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EIGHTEEN

BRITNEY ASTON.

I felt proud of myself.

Or rather, knew I had to be proud of myself. So whether I felt it at that moment or not, I was going to gaslight myself into feeling extremely proud of myself until it became a reality. After all, I’d successfully drawn the line between Travis and I, ensuring our relationship was nothing but plain and basic.

Taking the now familiar route, I made my way to school and was able to get there in less than thirty minutes. On walking through the college gates, I headed straight towards my faculty, fresh thoughts making its way to my mind.

I didn’t have classes until 2pm yet I was several hours early. But it wasn’t a mere coincidence. It was planned as I had a reason for wanting to get to school earlier than usual.

I needed to socialize.
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