MARIANA

“You!” I shouted, wide-eyed.

“You! What the hell are you doing here?” The cute but arrogant guy from my workplace demanded loudly, his face contorted with surprise.

“What does it look like I’m doing here?” I retorted, standing up straight after gathering my scattered textbooks.

“How the hell did you get into this school? How can a drycleaner like you get into Royal Gate High? Did you bribe your way in?” He asked, clearly surprised.

“Hey, mister! Drycleaners are ...