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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Friends / Friendship
- Published: 02/21/2023
Roller Coasters that Crash
Born 2011, F, from Boston / MA, United StatesI’ve always been told to start a story from the beginning. The exposition. The bottom of the plot map. The parking lot of a hike. But, where is the beginning? Is it when they started fighting, or is it when we decided to raise money at Movin’ Munchkins? Well, I guess you’ll need more of a beginning than that. Perhaps it’ll make more sense if I just start at the beginning of the beginning, where we first met.
It all started in Mr. Wallaby’s class last year, where Yiming, Sirei, and I met. I’d always believed that it was better for just two of us to be together - Yiming and I together on a tough math problem, Sirei and I together at sports, or Yiming and Sirei together on the all-secret “Da Boys” group. We sometimes all came together, though, perhaps to make a Chinese New Year presentation, or agree on the “PDN”, the “Panda-Duck Nation”, formed by two of my classmates (one who favored ducks, and one who favored pandas). No matter what, I always thought of us three as a group, an unbreakable bond, a friendship. Little did I know, that would all change soon. Very soon.
Let me give you a better view into grade 5 at Margaret Z. Neari Elementary School. Before the school year even began, I was already excited. Mostly. My neighbor Luk and friend Sirei were going to be in my class! The bad part? Those two were practically the only people I knew, and Yiming would be there too. He saw me as a competitor, not a friendly classmate. I had a completely different view, which I hoped would help change his perspective of me, not that I really cared what he thought. Turns out, classmates aren’t so bad when you’re known as one of the smartest people in the class and can be extremely mean when people insult or tease you. The year was a blast! I made so many new friends and had a lot of fun. At the 5th Grade Fairgel party, Yiming, Sirei, and I even took a photo shoot together! I felt our friendship come together at this moment. Apparently, we weren’t all thinking the same thing though.
“Mimi, would you like to join Yiming to raise money for kids with cancer over the summer? You’ll perform there by playing piano. Yiming says that he wants to borrow a space at Movin’ Munchkins. I need to reply to his mom soon!” Mom called from upstairs. By the way, Mimi’s the nickname that my mom calls me.
Complaining, I told her how I wasn’t prepared to perform in front of strangers. I never, and I mean, never, like performing my music live. Plus, I told her, vacation had just started and I wanted some rest. After my mom told me that Sirei would go, though, I agreed. How terrible would it be to play with my two best friends around?
After some discussion and planning, we got the owner of the Movin’ Munchkins to lend us the front of the place for five consecutive Saturday mornings, starting on July 9th. I was so excited! Just from the first week, we had raised over $200. During the second week, though, something unexpected happened.
“Leave me alone!” Sirei wails in anger. He had just finished his violin pieces and ran away to his car, crying. Apparently he thought we were judging his playing.
I was quite surprised - I’ve always known Sirei as the sunny kid he is. I didn’t know who he was mad at, since he didn’t respond to anyone who offered him the donuts we bought at Movin’ Munchkins after each session of performing. When his brothers, Aron and Anthoni told us that they’d bring the extra donuts back to Sirei, I decided to write an apology just in case I upset him. Where to write it, though?
“Pen, please!” I requested urgently, holding the receipt of the dozen donuts and drinks we just bought in my hand. Scribbling an apology note as fast as I could, legibly, my friends looked at me curiously as I covered the note with my spare hand.
Everyone chorused, “What are you doing? Can I see what you’re writing?”
“Ooh, are you writing him a love letter? Guys, she’s writing a love letter!” Aron taunted.
I was quite annoyed, even though this happened often. “No! Absolutely not!”
Putting the note in the donut box, and telling Aron and Anthoni that no one except Sirei was allowed to read it, I glanced again at his car worriedly. He was my friend, after all.
Turns out, he wasn’t mad at me - it was his brothers. The next day, his parents invited us over for a birthday party, for Anthoni. We had a lot of fun playing soccer, bouncing on the trampoline, and playing around with their chickens. We even ate Sirei’s homemade sushi (which had a layer too thick of rice, but nevertheless was still delicious)! Sirei forgives people very easily. That’s why I feel more free to be myself around him - it’s okay for me to make a few mistakes here and there without hours of anger, apology, and pressure.
In the end, I, along with my sister, Yiming and his younger sister, Sirei and his two older brothers, and another one of Yiming’s friends who was one grade level above us, ended up delivering many great pieces of music to people. In total, we raised almost $600 from just 5 times there! But was that enough? Sure, that’s great for a group of 8 people whose average age was 10.5, but would that be enough of an accomplishment? Would people remember us for donating $600? We wanted another chance to raise some more money.
Luckily, Yiming’s mom found it for us. The Summer Midnight event. Held by the Southboroo Recreation, the Summer Midnight consisted of foods, games, and fireworks. What fun!
The problem was, what would we sell there? After some research, brain wracking, and meetings, we finally came up with a list of ideas. I volunteered slime, friendship and bead bracelets, origami, and bookmarks. Yiming, however, disagreed.
“My mom says that this is a terrible idea. We don’t have the liability if a three-year-old eats the slime. We could get sued! My mom also says that we should just bring books. What reasonable kid wouldn’t want to read books?” he claimed.
“Listen, Yiming,” I started, laughing silently, “I agree that books are good, but have you ever considered that this is out in the open? At night? Do you really think that a group of people are going to come up to us and say, ‘Hey, I want to read some books’ in the middle of the night? Plus, there’s going to be a lot of little kids, some who can’t even read but want bookmarks, bracelets, slime, or origami!”
Still, Yiming wasn’t convinced. “My mom’s right and you know it.”
Finally, Sirei broke into the conversation. “Can’t we just sell everything? There’s nothing wrong with this option.”
I agreed, and everyone except Yiming and his sister voted in Sirei’s favor. After that vote, Yiming transferred his anger to Sirei instead and continued arguing again, beginning another long, long battle.
Out of nowhere, I received a text from Sirei in the middle of the night. How odd, I thought, glancing at the time, why would he send me a message this late?
Opening up a new tab and reading my new messages, I discovered why. “Help.” it read, “Yiming just sent me some angry texts.” Along with the texts, Sirei sent a screenshot of what Yiming sent him. Angry words, with no proof that he was right. Just claims, no proof. How silly, I thought.
瘸. That was the Chinese word Yiming sent him, along with the sentence “Are you just going to use google translate to search this up again? What is this, your seventh time using google translate already?”. “Lame”, the word meant. Yiming thought Sirei was lame because he didn’t take the time to learn Chinese. My mom always told me, Mandarin would be important when I grew up. If someone needed a translator, they would look for someone like me. Sirei, however, sacrificed his Chinese classes for soccer. A native language for a sport. Here in America, both are practically of the same level. Like Hammurabi’s code, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”, Sirei had made a fair decision. After all, even though his grades weren’t as good as Yiming and I, he was still an excelling student. He took writing and debate lessons, math classes, and possibly most importantly for him, soccer. I couldn’t believe Yiming would criticize a classmate in that manner, let alone his best friend!
Earlier in the school year, I had sometimes felt left out. Whenever Sirei had joined me and Yiming, they would start talking and I wouldn’t know what to do anymore. It had seemed like they were the two friends, and I never thought that Sirei would be coming to me for help.
After pep talking to Sirei with a few exchanges of texts, I could tell that I had boosted his confidence. Even though my dad had always said that helping someone else would make you happy yourself, I’d never believed it. What logic was in that nonsense? Surprisingly, it was really true. Maybe it took just more for me than giving a friend a snack. For me, perhaps making someone else simply smile wasn’t what created my joy. Perhaps it took more. This time, I felt it. The overwhelming joy of helping another one climb out of a ten-foot deep ditch that someone else dug for him. Somehow, seeing Sirei finally stand up for himself had motivated me.
Determined to prove Yiming wrong, I wrote some letters to the people at the Southboroo Recreation to ask about setting up there and selling slime. I will get this to work. I must get this to work. Yiming thinks he’s the best, but he really isn’t. Now we’ll show him why tyranny doesn’t work here. Well, guess what, after talking with my parents and creating a plan, we were able to accomplish it! Mr. D, the lead manager of the Southboroo Recreation, agreed to let us set up there for free, and said that we were allowed to sell the slime! Ha. Take that, Yiming! I thought proudly, glad that I could help.
Then came Michael’s birthday party. Michael was our other friend from 5th grade who also played soccer and really enjoyed sailing. For his birthday party, we’d go to the Fillet Stadium to watch a professional soccer match!
“Happy birthday, Michael! I hope you enjoy the gift!” I said excitedly, coming into his house and taking off my outdoor shoes.
With a smile and taking the present, he responded, “TY. I hope you’re excited for the match. The Revs better win today!”
I really was. I’d never been to the Fillet Stadium before. Just then, I spotted Sirei practicing his soccer skills and ran over to him.
“Hey! How’s it goin’?” I rub his hair as I usually do.
Half-protesting jokingly, he yelped and ducked as he got into the more serious matters.
“Don’t tell anyone this,” he started, “but I’m intentionally avoiding him.”
I sighed but agreed not to tell. On the ride and the match, I made sure that Sirei was far enough from Yiming to avoid his attacks.
Over time, by some sort of charm, Sirei forgave Yiming. I think you know what I mean when I call him a sunny person now, right? If I were him, I’d never forgive the person who repeatedly bullied me and called me lame. At the beginning of 6th grade here, at Trotting Middle School, we all sat and ate lunch all together, along with Henry, yet another one of our former classmates.
After some days, Henry developed a habit of playing his game, “I’m walking here” with Sirei, which greatly annoyed him, because it involved slamming into each other. According to Sirei, Henry was Yiming’s accomplice and Yiming was the one who told Henry to play that “game”. In addition, Yiming would often call Sirei short. It was true, I suppose, when Sirei was standing next to Yiming, who always wore shoes with the sole at least two inches tall, but usually, Sirei is just about as tall as me, and Yiming doesn’t call me short. So there was only one explanation: bullying. Sirei didn’t show it, though. Then came the first incident. Backpack opening. That’s when I started thinking 6th grade might be one of those terrible school years where you just have to drag yourself through every day, not being able to do anything about it.
“How old are you guys? Two?” Sirei asked us in anger. With clenched teeth and tight fists,
Half-laughing, I respond, “Um, eleven?” Yiming did the same.
“Then don’t act that way. Stay away from my backpack.”
Even as a sunny kid, Sirei can be serious sometimes. It’s like he has three modes: “I really don’t care about what you think of me”, “Be prepared to laugh out loud”, and “Dead serious”. That was one of those “Dead serious” times. The rest of the day, I couldn’t get within six feet of Sirei for him to shout at me while I tried to deliver my apology speech, which meant there was only one more option… messages.
I apologized again to Sirei, sorry to have hurt him. Surprisingly, he responded with an apology himself. It read, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were trying to apologize to me. I was being too harsh to you back there. It was mostly Yiming anyway.”
I was shocked by his behavior. I had hurt his feelings, and he wrote me an apology letter in return? It really was rare to have a friend nearby who has a big heart, so I cherished the moment. Until Incident Number Two came along, of course…
“Wanna a pencil?” I asked Sirei playfully. I held out the pencil, partly shielding it from Yiming’s view. Half jumping towards him, I offer it eagerly.
It was Yiming’s, alright. Sure, it’s not right to take someone’s pencil, but who would have known that the person who steals pencils from other people would mind if one of their two hundred pencils were gone? I was going to return it later. I honestly would not have taken it if I had known this would happen.
Taking the pencil from me, confused, Sirei inspected it. Immediately, Yiming launched towards Sirei, seized the pencil out of his hands, and started looking through Sirei’s backpack, which was laying on the table, without permission again. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.
Evidently, it was the last straw. Sirei snatched his belongings back and started walking out of the cafeteria to who-knows-where.
That’s why I’m here now. Awaiting a possibly dreadful visit to Principal Harry’s office. Apparently, who-knows-where is a principal’s office. Of course, none of this is Sirei’s fault. I don’t blame him - he made the right decision. It’s me who didn’t, who deserves punishment for my actions. I was the one who repeatedly made Sirei hurt, who had to repeatedly say sorry. Other than Yiming, I’m the one who deserves the most punishment.
“Come in, Jean,” a voice calls out from inside the office. “Please close the door behind you.”
I take a deep breath and head in.
I’ve made the right choice. The truth always comes out in the end, no matter what. So, I just spilled it all out and he believed me. After some pictures, words, and honest writing, Yiming’s been put in 2 weeks of detention. Sirei, Michael, Patrik, and I now sit together at lunch, in the corner where no one bothers us. Perhaps this school year isn’t going to be so bad after all.
Roller Coasters that Crash(Stella Guimaraes)
I’ve always been told to start a story from the beginning. The exposition. The bottom of the plot map. The parking lot of a hike. But, where is the beginning? Is it when they started fighting, or is it when we decided to raise money at Movin’ Munchkins? Well, I guess you’ll need more of a beginning than that. Perhaps it’ll make more sense if I just start at the beginning of the beginning, where we first met.
It all started in Mr. Wallaby’s class last year, where Yiming, Sirei, and I met. I’d always believed that it was better for just two of us to be together - Yiming and I together on a tough math problem, Sirei and I together at sports, or Yiming and Sirei together on the all-secret “Da Boys” group. We sometimes all came together, though, perhaps to make a Chinese New Year presentation, or agree on the “PDN”, the “Panda-Duck Nation”, formed by two of my classmates (one who favored ducks, and one who favored pandas). No matter what, I always thought of us three as a group, an unbreakable bond, a friendship. Little did I know, that would all change soon. Very soon.
Let me give you a better view into grade 5 at Margaret Z. Neari Elementary School. Before the school year even began, I was already excited. Mostly. My neighbor Luk and friend Sirei were going to be in my class! The bad part? Those two were practically the only people I knew, and Yiming would be there too. He saw me as a competitor, not a friendly classmate. I had a completely different view, which I hoped would help change his perspective of me, not that I really cared what he thought. Turns out, classmates aren’t so bad when you’re known as one of the smartest people in the class and can be extremely mean when people insult or tease you. The year was a blast! I made so many new friends and had a lot of fun. At the 5th Grade Fairgel party, Yiming, Sirei, and I even took a photo shoot together! I felt our friendship come together at this moment. Apparently, we weren’t all thinking the same thing though.
“Mimi, would you like to join Yiming to raise money for kids with cancer over the summer? You’ll perform there by playing piano. Yiming says that he wants to borrow a space at Movin’ Munchkins. I need to reply to his mom soon!” Mom called from upstairs. By the way, Mimi’s the nickname that my mom calls me.
Complaining, I told her how I wasn’t prepared to perform in front of strangers. I never, and I mean, never, like performing my music live. Plus, I told her, vacation had just started and I wanted some rest. After my mom told me that Sirei would go, though, I agreed. How terrible would it be to play with my two best friends around?
After some discussion and planning, we got the owner of the Movin’ Munchkins to lend us the front of the place for five consecutive Saturday mornings, starting on July 9th. I was so excited! Just from the first week, we had raised over $200. During the second week, though, something unexpected happened.
“Leave me alone!” Sirei wails in anger. He had just finished his violin pieces and ran away to his car, crying. Apparently he thought we were judging his playing.
I was quite surprised - I’ve always known Sirei as the sunny kid he is. I didn’t know who he was mad at, since he didn’t respond to anyone who offered him the donuts we bought at Movin’ Munchkins after each session of performing. When his brothers, Aron and Anthoni told us that they’d bring the extra donuts back to Sirei, I decided to write an apology just in case I upset him. Where to write it, though?
“Pen, please!” I requested urgently, holding the receipt of the dozen donuts and drinks we just bought in my hand. Scribbling an apology note as fast as I could, legibly, my friends looked at me curiously as I covered the note with my spare hand.
Everyone chorused, “What are you doing? Can I see what you’re writing?”
“Ooh, are you writing him a love letter? Guys, she’s writing a love letter!” Aron taunted.
I was quite annoyed, even though this happened often. “No! Absolutely not!”
Putting the note in the donut box, and telling Aron and Anthoni that no one except Sirei was allowed to read it, I glanced again at his car worriedly. He was my friend, after all.
Turns out, he wasn’t mad at me - it was his brothers. The next day, his parents invited us over for a birthday party, for Anthoni. We had a lot of fun playing soccer, bouncing on the trampoline, and playing around with their chickens. We even ate Sirei’s homemade sushi (which had a layer too thick of rice, but nevertheless was still delicious)! Sirei forgives people very easily. That’s why I feel more free to be myself around him - it’s okay for me to make a few mistakes here and there without hours of anger, apology, and pressure.
In the end, I, along with my sister, Yiming and his younger sister, Sirei and his two older brothers, and another one of Yiming’s friends who was one grade level above us, ended up delivering many great pieces of music to people. In total, we raised almost $600 from just 5 times there! But was that enough? Sure, that’s great for a group of 8 people whose average age was 10.5, but would that be enough of an accomplishment? Would people remember us for donating $600? We wanted another chance to raise some more money.
Luckily, Yiming’s mom found it for us. The Summer Midnight event. Held by the Southboroo Recreation, the Summer Midnight consisted of foods, games, and fireworks. What fun!
The problem was, what would we sell there? After some research, brain wracking, and meetings, we finally came up with a list of ideas. I volunteered slime, friendship and bead bracelets, origami, and bookmarks. Yiming, however, disagreed.
“My mom says that this is a terrible idea. We don’t have the liability if a three-year-old eats the slime. We could get sued! My mom also says that we should just bring books. What reasonable kid wouldn’t want to read books?” he claimed.
“Listen, Yiming,” I started, laughing silently, “I agree that books are good, but have you ever considered that this is out in the open? At night? Do you really think that a group of people are going to come up to us and say, ‘Hey, I want to read some books’ in the middle of the night? Plus, there’s going to be a lot of little kids, some who can’t even read but want bookmarks, bracelets, slime, or origami!”
Still, Yiming wasn’t convinced. “My mom’s right and you know it.”
Finally, Sirei broke into the conversation. “Can’t we just sell everything? There’s nothing wrong with this option.”
I agreed, and everyone except Yiming and his sister voted in Sirei’s favor. After that vote, Yiming transferred his anger to Sirei instead and continued arguing again, beginning another long, long battle.
Out of nowhere, I received a text from Sirei in the middle of the night. How odd, I thought, glancing at the time, why would he send me a message this late?
Opening up a new tab and reading my new messages, I discovered why. “Help.” it read, “Yiming just sent me some angry texts.” Along with the texts, Sirei sent a screenshot of what Yiming sent him. Angry words, with no proof that he was right. Just claims, no proof. How silly, I thought.
瘸. That was the Chinese word Yiming sent him, along with the sentence “Are you just going to use google translate to search this up again? What is this, your seventh time using google translate already?”. “Lame”, the word meant. Yiming thought Sirei was lame because he didn’t take the time to learn Chinese. My mom always told me, Mandarin would be important when I grew up. If someone needed a translator, they would look for someone like me. Sirei, however, sacrificed his Chinese classes for soccer. A native language for a sport. Here in America, both are practically of the same level. Like Hammurabi’s code, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”, Sirei had made a fair decision. After all, even though his grades weren’t as good as Yiming and I, he was still an excelling student. He took writing and debate lessons, math classes, and possibly most importantly for him, soccer. I couldn’t believe Yiming would criticize a classmate in that manner, let alone his best friend!
Earlier in the school year, I had sometimes felt left out. Whenever Sirei had joined me and Yiming, they would start talking and I wouldn’t know what to do anymore. It had seemed like they were the two friends, and I never thought that Sirei would be coming to me for help.
After pep talking to Sirei with a few exchanges of texts, I could tell that I had boosted his confidence. Even though my dad had always said that helping someone else would make you happy yourself, I’d never believed it. What logic was in that nonsense? Surprisingly, it was really true. Maybe it took just more for me than giving a friend a snack. For me, perhaps making someone else simply smile wasn’t what created my joy. Perhaps it took more. This time, I felt it. The overwhelming joy of helping another one climb out of a ten-foot deep ditch that someone else dug for him. Somehow, seeing Sirei finally stand up for himself had motivated me.
Determined to prove Yiming wrong, I wrote some letters to the people at the Southboroo Recreation to ask about setting up there and selling slime. I will get this to work. I must get this to work. Yiming thinks he’s the best, but he really isn’t. Now we’ll show him why tyranny doesn’t work here. Well, guess what, after talking with my parents and creating a plan, we were able to accomplish it! Mr. D, the lead manager of the Southboroo Recreation, agreed to let us set up there for free, and said that we were allowed to sell the slime! Ha. Take that, Yiming! I thought proudly, glad that I could help.
Then came Michael’s birthday party. Michael was our other friend from 5th grade who also played soccer and really enjoyed sailing. For his birthday party, we’d go to the Fillet Stadium to watch a professional soccer match!
“Happy birthday, Michael! I hope you enjoy the gift!” I said excitedly, coming into his house and taking off my outdoor shoes.
With a smile and taking the present, he responded, “TY. I hope you’re excited for the match. The Revs better win today!”
I really was. I’d never been to the Fillet Stadium before. Just then, I spotted Sirei practicing his soccer skills and ran over to him.
“Hey! How’s it goin’?” I rub his hair as I usually do.
Half-protesting jokingly, he yelped and ducked as he got into the more serious matters.
“Don’t tell anyone this,” he started, “but I’m intentionally avoiding him.”
I sighed but agreed not to tell. On the ride and the match, I made sure that Sirei was far enough from Yiming to avoid his attacks.
Over time, by some sort of charm, Sirei forgave Yiming. I think you know what I mean when I call him a sunny person now, right? If I were him, I’d never forgive the person who repeatedly bullied me and called me lame. At the beginning of 6th grade here, at Trotting Middle School, we all sat and ate lunch all together, along with Henry, yet another one of our former classmates.
After some days, Henry developed a habit of playing his game, “I’m walking here” with Sirei, which greatly annoyed him, because it involved slamming into each other. According to Sirei, Henry was Yiming’s accomplice and Yiming was the one who told Henry to play that “game”. In addition, Yiming would often call Sirei short. It was true, I suppose, when Sirei was standing next to Yiming, who always wore shoes with the sole at least two inches tall, but usually, Sirei is just about as tall as me, and Yiming doesn’t call me short. So there was only one explanation: bullying. Sirei didn’t show it, though. Then came the first incident. Backpack opening. That’s when I started thinking 6th grade might be one of those terrible school years where you just have to drag yourself through every day, not being able to do anything about it.
“How old are you guys? Two?” Sirei asked us in anger. With clenched teeth and tight fists,
Half-laughing, I respond, “Um, eleven?” Yiming did the same.
“Then don’t act that way. Stay away from my backpack.”
Even as a sunny kid, Sirei can be serious sometimes. It’s like he has three modes: “I really don’t care about what you think of me”, “Be prepared to laugh out loud”, and “Dead serious”. That was one of those “Dead serious” times. The rest of the day, I couldn’t get within six feet of Sirei for him to shout at me while I tried to deliver my apology speech, which meant there was only one more option… messages.
I apologized again to Sirei, sorry to have hurt him. Surprisingly, he responded with an apology himself. It read, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were trying to apologize to me. I was being too harsh to you back there. It was mostly Yiming anyway.”
I was shocked by his behavior. I had hurt his feelings, and he wrote me an apology letter in return? It really was rare to have a friend nearby who has a big heart, so I cherished the moment. Until Incident Number Two came along, of course…
“Wanna a pencil?” I asked Sirei playfully. I held out the pencil, partly shielding it from Yiming’s view. Half jumping towards him, I offer it eagerly.
It was Yiming’s, alright. Sure, it’s not right to take someone’s pencil, but who would have known that the person who steals pencils from other people would mind if one of their two hundred pencils were gone? I was going to return it later. I honestly would not have taken it if I had known this would happen.
Taking the pencil from me, confused, Sirei inspected it. Immediately, Yiming launched towards Sirei, seized the pencil out of his hands, and started looking through Sirei’s backpack, which was laying on the table, without permission again. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.
Evidently, it was the last straw. Sirei snatched his belongings back and started walking out of the cafeteria to who-knows-where.
That’s why I’m here now. Awaiting a possibly dreadful visit to Principal Harry’s office. Apparently, who-knows-where is a principal’s office. Of course, none of this is Sirei’s fault. I don’t blame him - he made the right decision. It’s me who didn’t, who deserves punishment for my actions. I was the one who repeatedly made Sirei hurt, who had to repeatedly say sorry. Other than Yiming, I’m the one who deserves the most punishment.
“Come in, Jean,” a voice calls out from inside the office. “Please close the door behind you.”
I take a deep breath and head in.
I’ve made the right choice. The truth always comes out in the end, no matter what. So, I just spilled it all out and he believed me. After some pictures, words, and honest writing, Yiming’s been put in 2 weeks of detention. Sirei, Michael, Patrik, and I now sit together at lunch, in the corner where no one bothers us. Perhaps this school year isn’t going to be so bad after all.
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