The Sarah I remember was a quiet girl, with
an incredibly beautiful smile. When she
smiled, she had a tiny dimple, like it was filled
with sugar.
She must have known me, I thought. For the
first time, I was grateful that the school published the “Most Attractive” rankings. I
looked at myself in the mirror again and
again. Yeah, she definitely knew me.
The eighty-sixth time I accidentally bumped
into her, I saw the surprise and joy in her
eyes. I knew, for sure, that she knew who I
was.
But how could I approach her without being
weird?
After rejecting five different plans, I overheard that someone had locked her in the supply
closet. I rushed to go save her.
Ashley? Wasn’t she her sister? I remember
her. She was a spoiled brat, all looks, no
substance.
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