sired • luke hemmings/5sos [au]

two // ignite

AS I BARREL TOWARDS TRIG class, I try my absolute best to shove strange pulses of electricity and fathomless blue eyes out of my mind, and, believe me, it is hard. I can't understand how his expression changed so quickly. I didn't exactly do anything to him, only stared. But he stared at me, too, so he shouldn't have acted so sourly. And he doesn't even know me! I know what I have to do - I have to give him back what he gave to me. Hate. If he acts like that towards me, I have to act as bitterly towards him. If he is going to be a Class A jerk, then guess what? So am I. I am beyond angry, I'm enraged, and that becomes obvious by the way I act when I enter the class room.

I shoot glares to anyone who looks at me. Bitchy, I know, but I am pissed off beyond belief. I barely mutter a quiet apology to Mrs Brooke for me being late, completely out of character for me. When I plonk myself down on my seat, the person who sits next to me cringes away from my mad rage. Which is a good thing, I don't want kick off on her. She's nice. Unlike someone.

I fold my arms on the table and rest my head on them, pushing the nameless idiot who obviously hates me for some unknown reason out of my mind. It goes on like that for most of my morning lessons, and when third period finally rolls in, I am so relieved that I feel like jumping for joy. I can finally relax, thank goodness!

I am still slightly angry as I enter the class room, but decide not to get myself all worked up about it again. This lesson is History, and that thought sends an overwhelming wave of calmness through my body, replacing the anger and keeping it at a bare minimum. Mr Steale, the History teacher, comes prancing into the classroom, being his usual chirpy self as he does the roll. I keep silent, barely lifting my head up to state that I am "here." He then tells us the daily announcements, usually a tedious task but today it takes a turn for the surprising.

"Alright, today we will be continuing with the documentary," he tells us, and there is a chorus of groans in protest. The next thing he says, I am not expecting. "But first, I would like to introduce our two new students."

What? Did he just say new students? My eyes shoot up, the sudden motion making me feel slightly dizzy, but as my vision comes into focus, my eyes meet gorgeous blue ones. He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, his face one of a bored boy who wants to get out of school. He looks exactly as he did before, but this time instead of looking at his face, I look at what he is wearing.

He wears what I think is a black and white tee that is of the Drop Dead brand, the material clinging to him and suits him quite well. For trousers, he wears black skinny jeans, and when I say they are tight, I mean real tight. They outline his long, thin legs perfectly. For shoes he has on black Vans, plain and simple, but they seem to reveal something about him, though I'm not sure what. A black hoodie is slung carelessly over his shoulder, not that I'm not setting myself on fire already or anything. Is there anything about this guy that isn't attractive? Yes. his unworthy hate towards me.

"This is Michael Clifford," Mr Steale says, motioning towards the guy that stands next to him. His hair is awesome. It is black and purple and is in a tousled mess. He must be his cousin, but the only thing that is the same about them both is that they are both frustratingly attractive. It sucks. "And this is his cousin, Luke Hemmings." Ah, so the stranger finally has a name. Luke Hemmings. Why does his name send a jolt through me? "Now, we just need to find you two somewhere to sit." Mr Steale's eyes scan the classroom, until he sees that my table has three, unattended seats. Please don't sit on my table. Please don't sit on my table. "Ridley?" Crap. "Would you mind if these two fine gentlemen sit with you from now on?"

And like that, every eye is on me. Including Luke's. He seems...smug? What? I shake my head, unable to speak. What could I say? That I don't want him to sit next to me because he causes this freaky electricity thing and makes me want to rip my eyes out because he has some old-fashioned, pre-determined hate towards me? That will just put me on the road heading to the mental institution. My class mates stare at me like they only just realized that I exist, before turning around to watch the new kids come sauntering to my table. Well, this lesson just turned into my least favorite lesson.