13 Lip Dirty Imagine:

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    "It's high school; you should expect to be thrown together with someone you don't like for a project."

  "Usually that shìt only happens in movies." I slammed my locker shut, the rattling metal earning me a few glares from my peers around me. A damp humidity burned my skin while I struggle to pull my shorts lower on my legs, attempting to keep them at regulations length. Beside me, my friend Charlotte was watching me struggle with a concerned raised eyebrow and a smirk on her face.

   "What are you smirking at?" I asked, balancing my book in one arm.

   She shrugged. "I'm actually surprised you haven't been told off yet for your shorts."

  "They're not that short! Look," I held an arm down to my side and tickled the ends of my shorts with my fingers. "Just long enough."

  Charlotte scoffed and pulled me around steering me down the hall to class. "Whatever you say. You know how much of a hard àss Mrs. Tripp is."

   I groaned thinking about our vice principle; her bird like resemblance freaked me out enough to to practically dread volunteering for her every Wednesday. Whenever she sat down with me, offered me a pen and drilled me with questions about the school newspaper, I tried my hardest not to watch her eye. God forbid she peer into my soul a bit too far and scold me with her black beady eyes and beak for a nose. "Detention this Saturday for wearing inappropriate clothing!" I could just hear her nasally voice. I cringed.

   "Maybe I should just tell him if rather not work with him?" I asked her as we stopped outside my English class. "You know, say it'd be better for my... Learning abilities if I worked alone, or something."

   "They grade you on group work," Charlotte frowned. "You probably don't have a choice."

   I nodded rather solemnly. "You're right. I'll text you after, tell you how it goes."

   Charlotte smiled and went on her way to history while I entered the classroom with an edge to me mood, knowing now that I had walked right into his trap. His stupid, manipulative and gear-grinding trap. Lip had the sense of humor where he thought its be funny to annoy the living hèll out of me until I inevitably gave in and turned to yell at him. It happened every single time we were in English; only last time, our teacher decided to put us together for a group assignment I'd been so busy shushing Lip and urging him to him to shut the hèll up that I missed the announcement - pick your partners now for the Shakespeare presentation assignment. Of course the only friend I actually wanted to pair with was with Charlotte and she wasn't even in this class.

   So, much to mine and Lip's luck we were paired together. I think the teacher's exact words were "Since you two hooligans can't get enough of each other, you might as well be paired for this assignment."

I agree with you that he should be fired.

   In the classroom I took my seat next to the window overlooking our parking lot. I hadn't noticed Lip yet, probably because I was among the first few students to arrive pretty early. I relished in the idea that perhaps he's dropped out of school, moved away or more than likely been sent to jail.

   My posture deflated when my eyes caught a bright green football jersey walking into the classroom. Lip had his hair styled perfectly to the side while he ran a hand through it, obviously trying to catch the attention of the opposite sèx. I couldn't help but roll my eyes when he spotted me and plastered a fake grin on his face, before he bobbed over to my desk and sat beside me.

  I immediately caught a whiff of his cologne and wrinkled my nose, "What did you do, dump the whole bottle of cologne on yourself?" I asked.

  Lip nodded, his blue eyes searching through his books for something. "Of course I did," he said. "I didn't have time for a shower."

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