Chapter 18

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----- Edited -----
Summer's POV:
2 weeks later

Soo, I've got detention. Again. But, at least it's with Ali-Nooh. This time we tried to make an obstacle course in the library. We always get caught!

Unfortunately Hayley and her boyfriend, Hassan Wasim- the one who proposed to me are here too. Thank god I found Ali.

Me and Ali are sat at a two-seat desk with Queenie and Mr. Player in front of us. And of course, as soon as Mr. McAllen left, Queenie starts whispering about me. I hit Ali with a pencil to get his attention.

"Monkey, man, calm down! Yes?" He said annoyed.
"Queenie is saying poop about me." He looked confused for a second but quickly caught on. At that second, Player turned around.

"Ali, I can't believe you're marrying HER."
"Why not?" He said.
"Because she's an absolute b*tch." I saw Ali's green eyes look full of fury.
"Excuse me?" He said.

"You know she turned me down? She's just as stupid as she looks. What have you got yourself into? Summer the sl*t." Hassan sneered.

Ali flipped over our desk and I backed away in shock as it fell to the ground. Ali pulled Hassan up by his collar. Though he's lanky, he's very strong.
"Don't you DARE say anything about Summer!" Ali said.

"Or what?" Player jeered. Suddenly, Ali's fist flew into Player's face. There was chanting from the back of the room.
"Fight! Fight! FIGHT!" A chorus of cheering came from the whole room.
Hassan tried to defend himself but Ali wasn't allowing it and Ali punched him so hard his nose started bleeding.

"ALI STOP!" I yelled over the cheering and 'oooh's, Hayley's screaming and threats. He looked at me and back at Hassan then stood up. And left Hassan there.

Hayley held him by his shoulder and Hassan trudged to the nurse. Everyone laughed at the fight until the teacher finally returned and released us from the hell-hole they call Clasroom 313.
"Summer, you playing football?" Ali said.
"Yeah, I should be. Are you ok?" I asked concerned.
"Yeah I'm fine." He replied.

Ali-Nooh's POV:

I watched Summer play football. She was pretty good at it. She looks at one with herself when she's doing something as care-free as playing football. Like the way I feel when I look into her warm-grey eyes.

"OW! Summer you've ruined any chances of us having kids." I whined when she hit me with her football very hard 'down there.' When we were walking home, Summer piped up.

"What would you name our son or daughter?" She said curiously. I thought about it.
"Well, Amelia for a girl and Haider for a boy. You?"

"The same for a girl and I don't mind for a boy." She said shrugging. We walked home in silence and I'm sure the same thoughts of us getting married and kids consumed us both.

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