“So, you’ve never kissed someone?”

Cleo tilted her head to the side, her legs curled, folding underneath her. Her hands went onto her oversized shirt, playing with the strings and pulling on them lightly. A small smirk grew on her lips, “Seriously?” She said.

Cleo was someone who could best be described as the stereotypical bitch-faced girl that has ridden the entire football team at-least 5 separate times and has found no enjoyment whatsoever. She was the kind of girl that believed, and was different. But it was what made her so attractive, it wasn’t just how different she looked, but just how contradicting she could be at times. It was like she was beautiful for all the wrong reasons.

Her smirk faded with her body leaning backwards to rest against the wooden board of her bed, sheet of paper in hand. Her sharp blue eyes stared deeply into yours, the eraser of her pencil found her mouth.

“I mean, It’s really not too surprising, considering as to how shy and quiet you tend to be…”

“It’s kind of sad,” she giggled, watching as your face morphed towards a more annoyed deadpan. Her lips curled up once again, but this time with a more gentle smile.

“But it’s not something to be insecure about.”