Have you ever had that flavor, that you really didn't like? And when I say, didn't like, i mean REALLY didn't like? I think we all have that flavor, and that someday, most likely on the worst possible day, that flavor will come back to haunt you, leaving a bad taste in your mouth and a wry remembrance of that cursed flavor. This was my flavor:

I banged my head against the vending machine door, holding in choking tears as my threat tightened. my hands crumpled around the dollar bill in my pocket and i pulled it out, uncrinkling it to the best of my mess of an ability and shoving it into the machine, searching for any water, anything at all. My eyes landed on strawberry flavored water, no calories, just flavored water. i sighed, tension releasing from my shoulders as i eyed my hero, and hitting in 38b, before watching it slowly unravel and plunk into the bottom of the vending machine. "thank god." i mumbled under my breath and twisted the cap off thankfully. i pushed the damp strawberry-blond hair out of my face and tilted the bottle up, bringing it quickly to my mouth and taking a huge gulp.
i was sitting in math class, my notebook in front of me, as student after student was called up.
"please, don't call me, not me" "Gloria, come up please." death sentence, third row second seat had now become the death row as i swung my unruly clumsy legs out from under the chipped desk and stood, tugging my unruly hair back and straightening my glasses. "not again." i whispered, hoping some guardian angel from above would sweep down, speaking merciful words as my death sentence would be discussed and pulling an Obi-Wan Kenobi convincing her i was in fact "not the brain-dead student she was looking for." but, unfortunately, my guardian angel decides today is a great time for that back massage she's been missing out on, protecting the school clutz from constant humiliation (although one humiliation a day keeps the arrogance away)and skips out on her duty. So here i am, walking towards this huge, white board, praying that maybe some ninja would appear, or that cute kid in the first row would stand up, being my knight-in-shining-armor (i don't mind being a damsel in distress for once) and save me, but instead, he decides he has other plans, thrusting his sagging jean covered leg in front of me, causing me to fall headfirst, towards the dust- covered linoleum floor. laughter erupts as i straighten myself, dragging my fingers through my already knotted hair and carrying on as though it didn't happen. but the howls of laughter from the entire student body (and I'm fairly sure i heard a chuckle or two from that good-for-nothing guardian angel) kept me stuck in reality. as i finally reached the board i realized something. i honestly don't know how i hadn't noticed earlier (i think it was my mind putting up walls, trying to warn me against realizing my fatal mistake, more fatal than sitting in the third row, second seat on February twenty fourth) was that my glasses, my coffee brown glasses, now lay in the smug hands of not-so-cute-anymore boy in the front row, who swings them in a constant blurry line of taunting as i shuffle over. "here." he says, flinging them as i gasp. yet another humiliation. (i thought i only needed one!) i walked over, picking up my glasses, dusting them off, and pretending not to notice the now cracked left lens as i shuffled back to the board and looked up to the teacher. "the answer is 89. did i really need to come up here?" i asked quietly. "no. i tried to tell you that, now back to your seat." i burned with shame as he finished his sentence and i once again shuffled back to my own personal death row, picking up my notebook and gently pressing it into my bag already covered in footprints from the first five hours of torture. the bell rang, but i paid no attention as i carefully shoved my dollar bill into my pocket and fought the hot rush of tears threatening to fall down my face. "class dismissed." i heard the teacher say, but it barely mattered. half the kids were already gone, although it wasn't like the teacher cared. quite honestly, i think his entire day revolved around making a fool of me as i hobbled along my day of "hopefully one humiliation a day". i gasped sucking in air as i fought against the miserable taste in my mouth, my lips curled upward against the wretched taste of strawberry-fluoride lingering in my mouth. i spit into my sleeve, wiping my tongue against my t-shirt, desperately trying to rid myself of the aftertaste of the horrible water. "never that flavor, ever again." i muttered, before stopping. no more tears were in my eyes, only the aftertaste of strawberry-fluoride water remained as i slowly turned back to the now empty halls. maybe strawberry-fluoride wasn't so bad, after all.