Fuck. In the building for thirty seconds, and I've already made an idiot of myself. Not that I'm worried, because I really don't care what these people think of me. Still, the floor was not the first entity I wanted to meet today. Dazed and confused, stars still circling my head, I stand up and face the person who knocked me off my feet. Tall, handsome, and... older. Too old.
"Are you okay?" He asked me. The obvious question after you blatantly hurt someone. I kept staring at him unable to respond, as if his presence had paralyzed me. A teacher. He was a teacher. I just wiped out in front of everyone and the only person to help me up is the teacher that ran into me. No big deal. Whether or not I'm remembered for this, it doesn't matter. None of this matters.
"Are you okay?" He seemed concerned. His hands were on my shoulders, he was searching for a person behind my eyes. My blank stare left and personality flooded my face.
"Uh yeah. I'm fine. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I'm pretty clumsy."
"I was definitely the one who didn't notice you, not your fault." A mischievous but forgiving smile crossed his face. I nodded to him and walked away, trying to find my first class.
He didn't notice me, why did that sting? Did I want him to notice me? And not just notice me, but notice me in that way. I mean, I'm used to getting some attention from guys. I know how I seem to them, an easy target. Something about the way I dress and my lack of eagerness for conversation lead them to think I'm vulnerable and open to sex as my way of connecting with people. I may not be a virgin, but I am no whore. I'm also not going to say anything else to defend myself on the matter, because that would show weakness, and I don't need to explain my values to anyone.
There is a part of me, though, that loves being misunderstood. I don't mind if others view me as this girl calling out for help, and will do anything to get it. The whole world is starved for attention, that's not an original trait.
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