I think I'm always going to be that piece of gum.

Not the one that's a metaphor from Selma, whose all hateful because someone "chewed her up and spit her out". Not the one that got stuck in Mikail's shoe and just added to his already climbing pile of ****. Not the one that got caught accidentally in Isabel's best friend's hair and had to be cut out with scissors and made them trust each other even more.

I mean the one that was offered from that nice girl in school who had a nice backpack and whose name you'll have forgotten long before she's gone.

I'm absolutely terrified of being that piece of gum.
Almost as irrelevant as the girl herself.