[𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒]

because the more he makes you feel bad, the more you're going to believe the things he says, and then it's going to take time for you to recover from this verbal and physical abuse."

Priscilla was finally looking me in the eye. It killed me that I didn't know whether I was getting through to her or not.

"I know we have our differences or whatever, but I don't really think you're this bad person I painted in my head. And I can tell you that I'm not a very horrible person either. Sure I used to do shitty things, and maybe I still do, but I want to mature from that."

Priscilla didn't say anything, she had a soft expression that made me want to hug her.

The silence between us was unbearable, and eventually, I did. I wrapped my arms around her. She didn't recoil or keep her arms at her side. Priscilla actually hugged me back.

I had gone back to my seat at some point, after our hug, Priscilla's exchanged no words. We were quiet for the rest of our time together in detention.

I was fine with that because I had time to think, about myself and my attitude.

Being in detention with Priscilla had taught me something. No matter how much you think you know a person, and no matter how bitchy they may come off — they could be going through something.

It's one thing to know you're an asshole and change, it's another to be aware of your asshole-ness and just shrug it off.

I knew I was conceited but didn't do anything about it. That was a problem. I made my ultimate decision to work on myself to become a better person.

When detention ended and Ms. Dove let us go, Priscilla and I simply smiled at each other as we or separated ways.

To me, becoming a better person involved steps. Step one: admitting you're the problem, check. Step two: admitting your faults and apologizing.

I wrote a list of people I'd said rude and hurtful things to, and I wrote a list of things I'd said or done to them. The first person to apologize to was darling man, London.

I marched to his room and stayed by the door. He was studying for something, I forgot what.

"London," I began. When I had his attention I spoke. "I'm sorry for taking a a long time in the shower when you first came; telling everyone that you had a weapon in your backpack; calling you dirty even though I was joking; calling you England behind your back; calling you bitch that one time; joking that you were my family's charity case; and . . ."

"That's enough. I forgive you."

"But I'm not done."

"Yes, I can see that this 'I'm sorry' list is very long. I really do forgive you, though."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Paris."

"Oh, okay." I smiled and decided to make more 'I'm sorry' list. London caught me writing and got curious. I told him what I was doing and he decided to help me with the lists.

When the weekend was over and school came, I read the "I'm sorry" lists to my friends and a bunch of other people at school.

"You know, I'm proud of you, P," Shannon suddenly said when we were in the bathroom.

"Why?" I asked, running my brush through my hair again.

"It's seems like you're maturing with these 'I'm sorry' list."

"Yeah, if only people would forgive me, though."

"Were your apologies genuine?"

"Yes."

"So then that's all that matters. If they don't want to forgive then that's fine, too."

"I guess."

"Alrighty, then, I'm going to class."

"Bye."

I looked down at my phone for minute then.

"You got something you want to say, Priscilla?"

I looked up and saw Priscilla looking Shannon up and down.

"Shannon, I'm not worried about you, girl."

Shannon's walked out and Priscilla walked in with a soft expression that was still new to me.

"Hi," I breathed with a smile.

"Hey."

"So what's new?"

"Well, I broke up with Darion."

It was almost as if my ears had perked up.

I turned to Priscilla. "Really?!"

"Yeah." She smiled.

"That's great! What was his reaction, though?"

"He called me a couple of names then tried to make me feel bad, the usual. I don't care anymore, though. I'm going to be at New Haven next fall so it doesn't really matter."

"Make sure you have him blocked on all socials."

"That's done already," Priscilla told me.

"Well, I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks, and I really appreciate the talk you gave me in detention."

"Yeah of course. Oh, um, I have to give you something." I went into my purse and pulled out my notepad that had all my apologies in it. Priscilla's was the first page. I ripped her page out and gave it to her.

"What's this?" she chuckled.

"An 'I'm sorry' note for all the mean things I've done or said to you."

"Don't tell me you wrote this for me because you felt bad about my relationship situation."

"Oh, no, that's not the case at all."

"Okay, good. I really don't like pity."

"I've written 'I'm sorry' notes for other people, too."

"Oh," she realized. "Huh!"

"What?"

"That's actually really mature of you to do."

"Well, I am trying to mature."

"Well, so far, you're doing a good job."