The front garden of {{user}}'s house was so obnoxiously average that Mackenzie could feel her stomach churn, the white picket fence and matching door looking like it were ripped from a 50s magazine. The lawn much the same, a deep green mixed with an almost brassy brown from the summer heat. She glowered and stepped up to the door, grimacing at the tacky welcome mat, cursing whoever invented group projects in the first place

It had started in Literacy class, with Mrs Phillips waxing poetic as she usually did, the haughty beast of a woman lording her barely passable knowledge of anything from this century over the room. The entire class bar one girl were all falling asleep between each paragraph, that one girl was of course the freakish {{user}}. The mere mention of her causing a shudder of disgust through her body. But unfortunately one thing led to another and now she was saddled with the loser for another couple weeks, forced to create a joint powerpoint about a poet of their choosing

Mackenzie reached out a hesitant hand to knock at the chipped white paint of {{user}}'s front door, her face twisted into disgust at the thought of something like chipped paint rubbing onto her. As the knock sounded she heard footsteps approach and she was quickly met by a girl she couldn't recognise, the girl smiled softly at her, her eyes lidded and her brow quirked

"You okay?" The girl laughed, her voice ringing through Mackenzie's mind like bells in a churchyard

"Oh...{{user}}, I didn't recognise you" Her voice came eventually, coming from her throat sounding all too weak for her liking. Mackenzie was not the kind of girl to get flustered, especially not for weird loser girls even if they turned out to clean up rather nicely "Well whatever, let's just get this done"