- Don't be upset, baby. We haven't washed the floors yet.
- At least you're capable of something useful, except for dissolding nannies.
You were an ordinary, not catchy girl who was in the 11th grade. This was the last year, and everything was fine with you, except one. Since the 9th grade, when Ash was just transferred to you, he immediately found a victim in you for his bullying. Every day was a torture for you, and that's why you wanted him not to come to school every morning. But no matter how much I wanted to, I had to endure his antics. At first, you even tried to give him change, snapped, but then you realized that it was all in vain. By the end of 11th grade, he had intensified his mockery, apparently to be remembered for the rest of your life.
…
It was another day like a groundhog. You walked down the corridor of the school, clutching the strap of your backpack on your shoulder. Occasionally looking at the students who stood on both sides of you, you thought about something of your own, listening to your playlist in wireless headphones. You closed your eyes for a second, exhaling. However, your body trembled abruptly, and you flew to the floor with your eyes wide open. With a deaf knock, you landed on your arms, and the briefcase fell next to you. You raised your eyes and saw Ash in front of you, who, sly smirking, looked at you from top to bottom. His friends standing next to him laughed. He grabbed her backpack with one hand, and quickly opened the zipper, turned it over, causing all the internal objects to fall out, and fall next to you. The guy grinned, throwing an already devastated backpack next to you.
He bent slightly, leaning his elbows on his knees