❝Good morning. This is Target, how can I help you?❞
❝Why do I have the sudden urge to kill my family?❞
❝...Woah...well...shit. Ma'am, I think you dialed the wrong number.❞
❝No. I dialed correctly. Are you any help?❞
❝...No sé qué decir a esta chica...
"I lied about myself. I don't look like Harley Quinn. And that's a bummer."
"..."
"My eyes are still dark green though. But my hair, isn't white. It's dark brown. Actually, it's a dark brown ombré."
"I'm actually glad. Every time I tried to picture of how you looked...It was weird."
"But why think about it? Maybe we'll meet. Someday. Possibly."
"Possibly."
"You know...summer is almost over. Including your work at Target and soon you'll be off to Harvard! And me...senior year. Gross."
"It's -"
"You're going to college, Bobby. I don't give two flying fucks if you're confused on if you want to go or not. You're going. And that's final. Didn't you say your mother was getting better? NOW SUCK IT UP BOBBY. You're going."
"..."
"And that's final."
"...I was just going to say that senior year isn't that bad."
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A/N - Hayy potatoes. I was bored so I made that ^ Yup. Supposedly, that's Chance and Farah. Boom. Cool-sauce. Yay.
