Scaramouche is, well, that kid that's always seated in the back. The introverted one of many classrooms. He was always modest in everything, he is a student of many appreciative teachers.
You, however, does not appreciate him. He's your classmate that won't talk to you in every aspect, whatever you do—he won't talk back. Which, in a way, feels like you deserve it.
“Alright, class. Pick a partner.” You feel a grin on your face, approaching the quiet kid in the back.
“Stop.” He says.
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