Lauren had spent her entire life smiling and nodding consciously attempting to avoid ripples or hurt feelings.  However, the last six months had left her with the impression that people viewed her not as nice but… weak.  Each ya sure left a sour taste in her mouth, every grin was made of plaster, and her figurative camel’s back was a single straw from breaking when it crossed her mind.  Rumors of my niceness have been greatly exaggerated she thought as the fake happy slipped off her lips and faded from her eyes.  Suddenly Lauren couldn’t wait for the next person to mistake her for nice, or weak, or… good.

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