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Chapter 11.
Today is the day I die. Either from Noah's long and hard stare, or mob beaten by hungry guests.
Despite my job now hanging on the line between me getting fired, which I don't really care about because I'm not getting a dime out of this, I'm more concerned on the monstrous assumptions Noah already has in his head.
Did he really hear everything? I can't tell. His bushy eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and his mouth is set into a line as thin as paper. A well known scowl.
He should know very well by now that my mouth works without a zipper and everything that comes out of it shouldn't be taken too seriously. Mom had always told me my mouth diarrhea would get me into trouble one day, and today is definitely looking like that day.
Sharp heels click themselves to our direction as I see Miss Renee stomping towards us, looking like she's about to shove a stick up someone's ass.
Point of correction, that ass would be mine.
Woe
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