or when you finally muster up the courage to try.
sure, it was nearly 11 pm, but it was worth a shot. i could just start small and work up to talking to him, that damn boy from that damn stupid excuse for a dream.
i didn't know how or where to start, so i just sent her—a once best friend who turned me into nothing in her mind—a simple "hey."
nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
