<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/RNUH4FB.png)</div><hr/><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Trisha Bousaid<br/><strong>Setting:</strong>Lockers<br/><strong>Company:</strong>Tyler<br/><strong>Apparel:</strong>urlhttps://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=236769038]Comfy at school[/url]<br/><strong>Event:</strong>Man, dad...<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Trisha woke up in the morning to something she really didn't want to hear. Her mom and dad was going on about the move while they were working on packing up their things at the army base house they lived in.<br/><br/><em>'We should return that dress to Ross. I don't think she's taken the tag off of it yet, has she? She won't be able to use it anyways.'<br/><br/>'That's her dress for her prom. Let her keep it.'<br/><br/>'Well, she isn't going to prom anymore, is she?'<br/><br/>'It's the only memory she'll have of here. She was excited to go.'<br/><br/>'And now it'll just be collecting dust. When is she going to wear something that ridiculous?'</em><br/><br/>It kept going on like that, and the words weighed heavily on her. She wasn't sure what she was expecting to come home to after school anymore. She imagined opening her closet door just to find that large void where her prom outfit had been sitting; they probably wouldn't even care for her opinion. They typically didn't. When they had to move, they had to move. That was orders. That was the life of a military brat.<br/><br/>Now, all she had to look forward to was finals. They were the only thing at school that was left for her now. That felt even more depressing. Her hands curled tight around her backpack straps as she headed into the school, going straight for her locker. It was close to Tyler; close enough for her to see him hit the ground as Brent came towards her. Brent; the big ol' brute from the wrestling team. She still remembered their conversation from last night and it just had her feeling winded right about now.<br/><br/>He made that beeline for her, but she shimmied past him to Ty;<strong> "hey, you alright? You look like you took a hard spill."<br/></strong><br/>That conversation didn't last long before an arm was hanging over her.<em>'Hey, babe. Don't bother with this twerp. Alright? Come walk with me to class.'</em>