You're given 0.7 seconds to decide what to do when the most popular boy waltzes up to you and starts throwing pick up lines at you. What would you choose?
a) Slap him
b) Throw a sarcastic remark at him
c) Walk away
If you were like those daring s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"it's missing your number"
My usual lunches were spent outside, in the warm air with the sun's rays beating on my head. I would sit on the wooden bench with my right hand dragging a pencil on paper while my left hand held an apple.
My head bobbed slightly as 5SOS' music from my earphones filling my ears. It was on the lowest volume so I would still be able to hear the bell ring and not be late for class.
I tended to stay clear of everyone at school. I had no friends and I didn't mind.
That was how I spent the first few years of high school, I was content and piles of sketchbooks that were beginning to take over space in my room. I'd only eat an apple or some form of fruit and vegetable at school since I was never hungry and my family would stuff me with food when I got home.
It had been a normal day. Classes swept by like a blur and I was in my happy place. It was cloudier today, but I could still feel the warmth from the sun prickling my skin. I could sense a faint smile on my mouth but it drooped when a shadow appeared.
The clouds can't be that big, I had thought because the shadow had covered my whole body.
My brows furrowed as my eyes travelled upwards from my sketchbook to find black converse, they followed a route that led to dark washed jeans and two large muscled arms folded over a white t-shirt. My eyes stopped there as if it reached a stop sign and my thoughts were spinning.
A boy.
A boy.
A boy.
What was he doing here? Who would ever approach me, let alone the person be a boy. I was practically invisible.
A boy.
A boy.
What do I do?
My eyes moved on its own again, it moved up to meet mesmerising grey eyes, filled with what seemed to be hope, a tall sharp noise, arched brows and dark brown hair, the colour of fine timber. His moist rosy lips were tipped upwards in a small smirk emphasising a slight amount of egotism.
"Iris."
Was he talking to me?
It was Carson López.
Carson.
López.
There is no chance he'd be talking to me. He was the most popular boy in school and all the girls crushed on him. I could understand why though, he was smart and athletic and wasn't on the verge of being expelled.
I saw nothing in popularity though, it was just a useless status that lasted only a few years. I couldn't care less, so long as I graduated with an ATAR over ninety-five and got a well-paying job, I'd be happy.
