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Description
She can’t believe she’s running late again. Her math teacher made it very clear that she’d be in detention for a week if she was.

“It’s all your fault,” she hisses at her friend, probably her only friend, Jordan Hayes. Her brown eyes dart behind her to make sure the young man is still following her. Sure enough the black haired male jogs behind her, a grin plastered on his face.

Jordan Hayes is the only person she can stand to be around. She holds no romantic connection to him and the same goes for him. She calls him the male version of herself. The young man lives across the street from her. Her parents and his parents have been friends for a long time. He has messy black hair and a serious five o’clock shadow going on. He has bright blue eyes, which most girls often comment on and say “they’re beautiful” to which earns only an eye roll. He has an English accent, which people would find enticing, but since most of the words coming out of his mouth are words not meant for virgin ears, they don’t.

“I swear the clock said 7:23,” he laughs. He doesn’t care if he’s late to class. In fact, he doesn’t care much about anything.

“Ugh, shut up,” Florence hisses as she throws open the front doors to the school. She glances over at the clock. “Five minutes” she thinks grabbing onto her backpack straps.

“See you later, Flo,” Jordan yells as he dashes down the hallway to her left. She watches him for a moment as the young man declares verbally that anyone in his was is going to get run over and he won’t apologize because he gave fair warning.

She snorts at this and then proceeds on her way. She runs down the hallway dodging stragglers and the like. A few teachers tell her to stop running, but the ginger ignores them and carries on.

“Almost there,” she thinks as she rounds the corner.

And suddenly “WHAM”.

She’s thrown off of her feet and onto her back. Her head hits the floor with a loud crack, but she doesn’t feel it. “Jesus fuck! Watch where you’re going!” She hisses, slowly sitting up. She touches the back of her head to make sure she’s alright. She brings it forward. No blood.

And then she realizes the part where the idiot collided into her is tingling. Her eyes widen, looking over at the person in question.

“God damn brat. Watch your mouth,” the person snaps. She watches as he gets to his feet. He’s a short young man. He wears a while dress shirt with a green tie along with beige slacks and black dress shoes. He has short black hair and stormy grey eyes.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, touching at her chest. She can feel it. She can definitely feel it.

“I said watch your damn mouth,” he hisses.

But she isn’t paying attention to a single word he’s saying. She has to make sure she isn’t imagining things. She hopes she isn’t imagining things. She gets up quickly, grabbing at his hand.

She isn’t imagining this. She can actually feel the warmth from his rough hands.

“Holy shit.”

Description
She can’t believe she’s running late again. Her math teacher made it very clear that she’d be in detention for a week if she was.

“It’s all your fault,” she hisses at her friend, probably her only friend, Jordan Hayes. Her brown eyes dart behind her to make sure the young man is still following her. Sure enough the black haired male jogs behind her, a grin plastered on his face.

Jordan Hayes is the only person she can stand to be around. She holds no romantic connection to him and the same goes for him. She calls him the male version of herself. The young man lives across the street from her. Her parents and his parents have been friends for a long time. He has messy black hair and a serious five o’clock shadow going on. He has bright blue eyes, which most girls often comment on and say “they’re beautiful” to which earns only an eye roll. He has an English accent, which people would find enticing, but since most of the words coming out of his mouth are words not meant for virgin ears, they don’t.

“I swear the clock said 7:23,” he laughs. He doesn’t care if he’s late to class. In fact, he doesn’t care much about anything.

“Ugh, shut up,” Florence hisses as she throws open the front doors to the school. She glances over at the clock. “Five minutes” she thinks grabbing onto her backpack straps.

“See you later, Flo,” Jordan yells as he dashes down the hallway to her left. She watches him for a moment as the young man declares verbally that anyone in his was is going to get run over and he won’t apologize because he gave fair warning.

She snorts at this and then proceeds on her way. She runs down the hallway dodging stragglers and the like. A few teachers tell her to stop running, but the ginger ignores them and carries on.

“Almost there,” she thinks as she rounds the corner.

And suddenly “WHAM”.

She’s thrown off of her feet and onto her back. Her head hits the floor with a loud crack, but she doesn’t feel it. “Jesus fuck! Watch where you’re going!” She hisses, slowly sitting up. She touches the back of her head to make sure she’s alright. She brings it forward. No blood.

And then she realizes the part where the idiot collided into her is tingling. Her eyes widen, looking over at the person in question.

“God damn brat. Watch your mouth,” the person snaps. She watches as he gets to his feet. He’s a short young man. He wears a while dress shirt with a green tie along with beige slacks and black dress shoes. He has short black hair and stormy grey eyes.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, touching at her chest. She can feel it. She can definitely feel it.

“I said watch your damn mouth,” he hisses.

But she isn’t paying attention to a single word he’s saying. She has to make sure she isn’t imagining things. She hopes she isn’t imagining things. She gets up quickly, grabbing at his hand.

She isn’t imagining this. She can actually feel the warmth from his rough hands.

“Holy shit.”