"Stop writing about me."
I remember, one time, shit. She had these mesh shorts on and a tank top. I met her after her run. Girls are so trusting together. Not that IM anyone to not trust. She ran in and threw her books on the table. The usual sigh, "ugh, look at this." She proceeded to hop up and down and her mesh shorts hurriedly fell to her ankles. She let out her usual casual smile, looked at me, raising her eyebrows, "this is what I had to deal with the whole run." I released some animated curse, identifying with her frustration, fuck, maybe shit. I stared at her for the split second she left her shorts down to absorb my curse. She looked so innocent with the 'wife beater' clinging to her, baby blue underwear resting low, and her shorts around her ankles. I felt like corrupting her. She soon revealed a half nod in agreement to my curse and pulled her shorts back up. "I'm taking a shower, one moment." I wanted to follow her and watch through the keyhole. I wanted to. But I went over the notes instead.