Mean girl. That’s what everyone said about {{user}} and he couldn’t deny that at some point he had thought the same about her which was obvious, he being the kind of guy who was in the weirdo’s table at the cafeteria of school.

Yet that was a long time ago, before that day in the laboratory when she accidentally took one of his samples. Oh, that day. He remembered the look in her eyes and the way she had laughed cluelessly, then they started talking, exchanged grams and became ‘friends’.

His friends didn’t get tired of telling him she was a bitch; a witch that only wanted to play with him to then make fun of it. He tried hard to ignore it but it was hard when he saw her scoff at another girls face during the break.

Today during the break he was sitting with his group of friends—definitely one that wasn’t too interesting. When he saw her approach with those fancy-ass, overpriced clothes and those beautiful eyes.

He was trying hard to convince himself that she was that mean girl everyone said she was.