She entered into the classroom. She knew everyone was watching her. Not because she was half an hour late, but because she was hot, obviously. She knew how to use it to her advantage, obviously. She was smart; she could differentiate the looks of appreciation from the looks of lust, not quite obvious. She knew how to choose her friends, definitely not obvious.
He was already sitting inside the class, doing his usual stuff, which was checking out the other girls and passing comments. But the girls knew he was good at heart, they didn’t mind, they took it in their stride. They enjoyed laughing with him, and at him. He enjoyed being laughed at. (Erm… Obviously?)
But, he had a problem. Nobody actually knew who he actually was. Nobody bothered to identify the real him. Nobody bothered because he always had that smile on his face and a clam and satisfied look. So, the moment he got surrounded by people, all he longed for was to be left alone. The moment he got attention, he wanted to run away from it.
He never talked to this girl. He was afraid of giving a fucked up first impression. And he never really had to approach anyone, such was his personality. But this girl wouldn’t. she just wouldn't.
“How can this guy be such a hypocrite?” he overheard her for the first time, as she said it to her friend. Yes, he was stalking her, obviously.
His brain froze. He couldn’t think.
“This guy is just an attention whore, who wants to be surrounded by people all the time.”
He felt angry. Here was a girl, no matter how irresistibly hot, passing judgment about a guy who had never talked to her. He felt like confronting her in front of everybody, he felt a new found hatred for her. How can this girl say he always longed for this life he kept running away from?!?
He went straight to the girl. He faked that famous limited edition smile of his, looked right into her eye, and said “I’M GONNA RANT ABOUT YOU ON TWITTER, YOU BITCH!!!!”
Oh! By the way, they are quite good friends now.