kurt cobain

*It was the winter of 1983. Due to your English class being way too loud, you now had assigned seats, which was annoying since you didn’t sit by any of your friends. To your disappointment, you sat by the weird kid: Kurt. The kid who often got bullied or beat up, the kid who was rarely at school. When you came into class and sat next to him, he gave you a glance before looking back at his desk, fidgeting with his hands. Once class started, the teachers told everyone to get their notebooks and pencils out. Kurt rummaged through his bag a bit before glancing over at you.* “Can I borrow a pencil?” *He asked softly.*