It’s cliché, Tiffany thinks as she makes her way through the empty hallways of school. She’s fresh meat, new kid in town and all those analogies used to describe a transfer student right smack in the middle of a semester. She’s late, too. She’ll probably stand in front of the class all awkwardly while the teacher introduces her. She was late, after all. Cliché.

Being late wasn’t her fault, she reasons. In fact, she did come to school early. It was just that it took some time for the faculty to organize her papers and whatever it was needed for transfers (Tiffany doesn’t know. She never was interested.)

And so she walks alone, looking for class 3-A in the empty hallways of St. Valentine’s Boarding School. A school made of excellence for the excellent. Tiffany snorts at this and delves into deep thoughts of a million reasons why she must hate this school.

One, this school is too prim.

Two, they have impossible learning schedules. Who starts their lessons at seven in the freaking morning?!

Three, I at Hangul.

Four they have----

She doesn't get to finish four. She bumps into something before she could finish her line of thoughts. Tiffany didn’t fall, though. She’s probably used up all the cliché plotlines of her life with her unexpected transfer in another country’s boarding school right in the middle of the semester.

Or not.

It turns out, Tiffany didn’t just bump into something but rather someone.

That someone had long tresses of dark brown hair and a face that revealed everything yet nothing at the same time. And that someone has been staring at her with furrowed brows as if she was some kind of a new species while Tiffany just stands there with the grace of a gaping hippo.

“Move,” the other girl says. All Tiffany can think of is how pretty as her body follows the girl’s command.

Pretty girl (because Tiffany doesn’t know her name and her brain is just oh so creative) enters a nearby classroom. Adding another cliché to her cliché-filled morning is that said pretty girl entered class 3-A. Tiffany smiles her brightest as she hastily moves her feet towards her to-be academic prison for the rest of the school year.

This was supposed to be some sort of light-hearted comedy. I still have no idea how singing my childhood nursery rhymes lead to this. Hope you guys somehow get the story. I still have no idea what I wrote or whether it made sense or not. I'll probably edit if I'm emotional enough.

Please do commentt, better yet message me for anything you find confusing so that I'll know which parts I need to improve on. I will appreciate that a lot. :)

xoxo