one wish ; marco reus au

eins

|| lowercase intended ||

chloé ceffalio

the hallways are usually so crowded in my school during passing periods. every type of person is mixed together, walking to where they need to go; the athletes, the music kids, the valedictorians, the divas.

as i'm walking to my locker with my maths textbook and notes in hand somebody grabs my shoulder. i turn to the direction where i sensed the feeling of the hand and see the bright and lively face of my classmate, philippe coutinho.

"hey chlo, how's it going?" he asks.

"pretty good, i guess. mornings, you know?" i casually reply.

"for sure. hey listen, can we meet later for the french revolution project?"

we're standing in the middle of the hallway and people are having to move around us so i motion for him to come with me to my locker which is a couple of metres away.

"sounds good," i agree as i open my locker. "what did you have in mind?"

"how about the university library, saturday? i imagine they have a nice selection of resources."

"do you think you'll still be intact enough to study on tomorrow after your party tonight?" i say with a laugh.

philippe snorts. "i'll hope."

i put the last of my things onto the top shelf. "alright, then text me about when you want to pick me up, yeah?"

"oh, i'm picking you up? last time i checked my knowledge of chloé ceffalio, i remembered that you are a fully functioning licensed driver."

i scoff before saying, "and miss a chance to ride in your sweet rolls royce? i think not."  

philippe snaps his fingers into finger-guns indicating a "yes". i giggle as he heads off to somewhere else, then close my locker door. i peer over my shoulder across the hallway to the section of lockers across from where i am; sure enough, paulo dybala is putting his books away. i smile massively to myself. i can't help it; just thinking about him makes my heart rate speed up. i've fancied this guy since year four of primary school. the only guy i think i've ever had more of the hots for is my dream boyfriend, marco; he's a european football player. don't judge, a girl can dream. back to the paulo thing- as far as i know he doesn't see me any other way than a "sort of friend". i know, perfect, right?

"whatcha got that stupid grin on your face for?" my best friend katelin says from beside me with a large smirk. i call her kate and so does everyone else.

"oh! you scared me. i didn't even know you were there."

"it's called being the stealth master, bitch." i roll my eyes. "so tell me what that smile is about."

"nothing," i simply reply. she looks over her shoulder to see paulo, who unexpectedly turns around. he gives a smile and a little wave. what the fuck. my breath hitches in my throat.

katelin snorts. "doesn't look like 'nothing'."

"piss off," i tell her, walking away. she strides to catch up to me with a quick pace.

"come on, chloé. you don't always have to have a stick up your arse."

"you keep talking and I'll put a stick up yours," i retort.

"hey, let's go get lunch," she says as she dramatically tugs on my sleeve. i give a large sigh to mock her level drama and then follow her to the lunch line.

"did you do the reading for martinelli's class? i didn't feel like homework last night, so i have no clue what to do for the lesson." typical kate, she is a total slacker when it comes to school. for that, she usually falls on me to catch her up before the lessons. it's a bit irritating sometimes but hey, what are best friends for?