I blinked and saw Dean's face, which had become many times younger.
He protected Abby Nicholson as if he was her knight.
He looked at me with disgust. "It's just a dress. So what if it gets dirty? You shouldn't give her a hard time."
Give her a hard time?
I looked down at the black ink on the white dress and recalled this memory from the depths of my mind.
Today was my piano competition, and Abby somehow got a bottle of ink and threw it at me.
She spilled ink on me.
And she smiled at me in a nasty way, saying, "Janice, wearing this dress to the competition will attract more attention."
Before I could say anything, Dean rushed out to defend her.
This attracted a group of onlookers who pointed at me while whispering.
Later, somehow the principal knew, and my parents had to come here. I received disciplinary action.
I, the victim, was punished.
How ridiculous it was.
The same plot happened again? Come on.
I reached out and picked up the ink bottle from the ground, smeared my hands with ink, and wiped it on Abby's dress in her astonished eyes.
I heard Dean angrily ask, "What are you doing?"
I smiled and said, "It's just a dress. So what if it gets dirty? Are you so biased?"