They say the moment you step yourself into a room where you can change your life after elementary, that’s high school. You must cherish all the memories created in your school. So must I cherish the bad and embarrassing memories? I don’t think so. If a genie popped up in front of me and offered a wish that he would grant, I’d take three wishes.
One, I wish David Pluck didn’t know I was a virgin.
Two, I hope Blake will transfer to our school so that I won’t be lonely anymore.
Three, I wish to become a writer. Not a sloppy one, but a real writer. A writer who will have her own book signing event and hug her readers, thank them for reading my masterpiece and have a heart-to-heart talk about life. I almost imagine the scenario. However, it instantly vanishes when a loud ringing of my phone
