"How did you find the homework that Mr. Randall gave us?" you ask, wanting to kick yourself around the room as soon as the words leave your mouth. Homework?? You talk to Sarah bloody Parker about HOMEWORK?? Oh Jeez, I'm never gonna get a girlfriend. Arching a thin eyebrow, Sarah snorts out a tiny laugh.
"You're serious?" she replies, "Mr. Randall's class is such a joke, and who cares about homework anyway?" Her gaze boring into yours, you flush and stammer, wondering how on earth you could possibly make yourself look any more stupid. An asthma attack would seal the deal, probably.
"Um, well...ahhh..." you mumble, wishing you had something witty to say. Shut up, shut up right now, you tell yourself, hoping that the school will somehow blow up at this very moment and thus put you out of your misery.
Give up your conversation and turn back to poor Donny
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