A stranger leers at me before I take a seat on the bus. He readjusts his body in my direction preparing to say something, but before he can utter the full sentence I turn him down cold. 

“You look—”

“Not interested, thank you.” 


I look out the window. 

“Can I ask why?” 

This perks my interest, and I look directly at the man whose gaze hovers from my thighs and back to my face. “You really want to know why?” 

“Yeah, why aren’t you interested?” 

I smile a little, nod and say “Because men are trash, and I have no time to be ruined by anyone.” 

“Oh. Someone really hurt you.” 

“Nope, someone really taught me.” 

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