I got into the car and drove off. My temper slowly went away as I drove farther and farther away from my house.

That was when I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of Kwik-E-Mart. I got out and casually walked my way into the store and head for the back, where the bread is.

As I cut through and aisle I pass Mary Rose, one of my mother’s friends. She looked up at me, smiled, and said (ever so politely and inconveniently), “Oh, why hello Genevieve.”

...

I smiled nicely and say,”Hello.” Then quickly walk away, basically running down the aisle.

“Why does everyone have to call me that? My friends don’t. They get that I hate that name. But grown up. Oh, no, grown-ups have to call me by my first name, I have a nickname for a reason,” I mutter on my way. Why does this bother me so?

And as I stared at my feet, walked must faster than needed, and turned the corner at the same time, my anger suddenly vanished.

Becuase as I did this, I ran into someone.

And that someone, was a boy.