So. Awkward. Just thought I’d say that.



There is no class Priscilla enjoys less than English Comp. She has never understood why anyone should be required to take a lesson in the language they already speak totally fine. She doesn’t want to be a writer, can’t imagine any job she’d want to have where she’d have to either write or do math, the two least fun things she can think of. So, as the professor is going on about something, thesis statements or effective organization, or some other boring-ass shit, she’s zeroing in on only enough of the example on the board to start scribbling notes for a paper about her relationship with Brody Jenner.