Entry 8. May 20th, 2014

It’s been twelve days since I last wrote in this journal, things are still just peachy, my life is still a hot mess and Kris is still ing gorgeous.

Wait. How’d that get in there. I mean...say what?

Okay, obviously I’m more than a little disheveled.

I’m scared, okay? I’ll admit it. I’m scared.

I finally went back to school today, after hiding out at the house for a while. But since the police would start prying in on my personal life if I skipped more than a week, even after being hospitalized for a few days, I came back. The school let us out at 4. It’s about 5 or 6 now. I’m still sticking around. Hanging around.  When the school’s security guards came and locked the school up, I hid in the bushes on the field. I can just hop the fence when I’m ready.

I’ll never be ready. Spending the night here won’t kill me either. No one’s waiting for me at home—or what I call home. I’ll just get to my classes looking like I spent the night in the bushes. Easy.

I made sure no one waited for me. I hid long enough so Bacon had to go home without me; I watched Kris (who is, despite puffy under-eyes due to effing life and finals coming up, still ing gorgeous and I don’t even know how he does it) sidle right on by, talking and laughing with his stupid friends that are probably douchebags and don’t give two s about the world.

So maybe I was a little jealous.

But Bacon knows me. Bacon knows everything about me. He knows where I live, how I dealt with the person who used to live there, even my Gucci collection, although I’d never let him touch it.

And now, thinking about it, Kris knows where I live too.

Kinda creepy-sounding. But it’s not creepy if your six foot-three god crush knows where your house is, or if your best friend happens to be called Bacon.

Syke! Bacon is a piece of real bacon and I’ve pretending he’s a real person all along!!!!!!

Okay. I’m seriously paranoid. I should probably stand up and walk around. Squatting in the school shrubbery is really numbing me from the waist down and making me go insane.

Or maybe this is just a metaphor for my screwy life. Look. I’m not even funny anymore. The only times I am funny is when I’m laughing at myself about my failing existence.

I got back my uniform on Sunday. I’d expected them to be dirty and blood-stained as if I’d run through hell instead of just the city streets, but they weren’t. Washed without a stain on the white fabric, even dry-cleaned. It was sent to the condo I sto live in. Anonymous.

I’m grateful. Really. But. I don’t have a family. It’s harsher as an exchange student, too.

Kind of shows when you’re sitting in the school foliage where it reeks suspiciously of dog . Yay.

Crap. I think one of the guards might be getting closer. Gotta go. I’ll leave you, dear diary, to ponder a brilliant question of the day:

What did Kris do in his previous life to make him so freakishly hot?

I need to learn his tricks.

A/N: Helloooo everybody! Another filler of an entry, but I will have a special entry coming up soon regarding Kris's lawsuit! It has the same idea even though it's not literal Kris literally filing a literal lawsuit in the story, and there's going to be a looong entry with Tao writing about it, so please subscribe for that and more!

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