19. Don't you get it?

Annabeth Andrews was talking to the class, her eyes were on mine, while her lips were slightly up at the corners, revealing a dazzling smile.

So she knew I was standing here?

Her hair was dyed black and its volume amazed me. It fell a little under her shoulders, curled at the edges. Big golden earrings in the shape of a triangle and circle were in her ears. A long, multicolor flower dress was complimenting her tall, skinny figure, and comfortable, bright red flats were making her mobile. Her lively eyes were exactly like mine, or mine were like hers. I swallowed, a futile try to remove the dryness from my throat.

She started the lesson and acted like any other teacher, not even saying some sort of greeting to her daughter. Suddenly, I felt nauseous. I closed my notebook, grabbed my stuff, pushed them in my backpack, and stormed out of the room, ignoring the stares of my classmates.

I started running in the hall, and did not stop until I reached the schoolyard. Not sure which way to go