I laughed, I stopped. "For real? You, S. P. Whitman writes?"
"Yeah. "
"I write too!" I smiled.
"You're so lame."
"But you write too. "
"Ha no. I actually don't. Those were my literature notes. " She just said she did.
"Oh..."
YOU ARE READING
The Leftovers
Teen FictionI had become a leftover. I am nothing more than a plate of food he forgets about, And soon he will dispose of me. He comes to me when he is hungry for love, I feed him hoping he'll stay, But he leaves. Because that's all I am to him, Just a leftover.
