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I hated Luke Hemmings. I absolutely hated everything about him. I hated his cocky, arrogant demeanor, how he goofed off in class constantly, and that he always seemed to make me the object of his jokes. It wasn’t bullying exactly, seeing as I could more than stand up for myself, and often did, telling him to fuck off and shove a dildo up his ass, but his constant tirades of jokes and pranks got tiresome. But most of all, I hated how undeniably attracted I was to him.
It made absolutely no sense, for me to allow myself to develop feelings for this arrogant, cocky bastard, but it happened nonetheless. I couldn’t tell if he knew it or not, but he kept up his attitude all the same. I ignored him most of the time, trying to tell myself I was being irrational and that no contact was the best kind, but I could never let a chance get away for me to embarrass him the way he so tried to embarrass me.
Such an opportunity arrived one day when I was putting my books in my locker, getting ready to head off to my art class, a class I often found solace in. I could tell he was walking down the hall by the obnoxious amount of noise he was creating, but I wasn’t exactly expecting him to lean up against the metal lockers to talk to me.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, sounding oddly nice. I just glanced up at him shrewdly, knowing that this could easily be something else he was trying to get a laugh out of his asshole friends. He smirked down at me, taking my lack of speech as a continuation to continue. “I think you should help me out in that Calc class,” he said, looking at his nails like it was no big deal. I let out a laugh and looked up at him.
“And why, pray tell, would I ever consider doing something like that?” I asked sarcastically. I thought he was actually doing fairly well it that class, honestly. It was just another thing that pissed me off about him, how he had so much natural talent but he wasted it away goofing off in class.
“Well, honestly, I’m having a bit of trouble focusing in that class,” he told me while eyeing me up and down, the same smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes at him, trying to ignore the way his obvious once over made my stomach tingle.
“Sounds like a problem with the student, not the subject matter then,” I told him, swiftly shutting my locker and heading down the hallway. Luke, however, caught up with me and I sighed in defeat, knowing he would pester me the entire way there. Luke and I had an obnoxious amount of classes together, making my time all the more difficult.
“C’mon, Y/N, don’t make me sound desperate,” he whined at my side, as if whining would do any good. I scoffed at him again.
“Desperate for what? You obviously don’t need my help, I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation,” I told him, entering the classroom and going over to an empty seat. He sat in the one directly adjacent to mine and began setting his materials up there.
“Come on, Y/N, I already had to make up some lame excuse to try and spend some time with you, don’t make me sound even more desperate by making me say it out loud,” he continued to whine, something I would’ve been obnoxiously annoyed at had his words not triggered my attention slightly.
“You want to spend time with me?” I asked, genuine concern in my tone. I didn’t understand why Luke would want to possibly spend any more time with me than he had to. He just rolled his eyes and nodded, which prompted my question of, “Why?” He smirked at me again.
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of hot,” he blurted out. While I felt my cheeks get red, Luke’s face remained impassive, that signature smirk still gracing his features. I managed to give a strangled sort of laugh as I began brushing my paintbrush across the canvas we were working on.
