𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 ~ ✰☽ 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐜

~ seven ~

I hate school. I hate it so much. Right now, I could be traveling the world, achieving my dreams, practicing for the movie, or he'll even eating some baby puffs.
But no. Instead I'm stuck in Mr. Blake's gym class, with a boy I have to fall in love with for a movie.
And I hate it.

"Alright everyone get in a line!" The teacher yells, breaking off my conversation with Ruth which I wasn't very happy about. We were joking around about who's better at kickball. She's a pretty fun girl. One of those people that you talk to, but aren't really friends with.

"Today I'm giving you all an option," he begins, holding a ball under his arm and fidgeting with his whistle, "we can either go to the workout room, or do a couple games of dodge ball."

I cross my arms in front of my chest and sigh a bit. I guess I also hate gym. It's pointless. And honestly, more body shaming happens rather than exercise.
"So we're gonna take a vote," he finished off, "raise your hand for workout room."

I keep my expression unfazed and look left and right. Around half put their hand up.
"And who wants dodge ball?"

Once more, I look around again. The other half of the class raises a hand. I don't. I didn't for either of them.
I don't care enough to put a hand up.

"Ms. Downey," Mr. Blake eyes me, "you didn't put your hand up."
I shrug and nod, "That's right."

I watch as he sighs a bit and grips his clipboard, jumping off the bleachers, "You have to participate in my class. Drop down and give me ten push-ups."

Oh yeah, that's something he does. When things don't go his way, he punishes you and makes you do pushups in front of the whole class. And it's dumb.

But honestly I don't mind having eyes on me because I consider myself pretty good at them. And ten isn't horrible.
It's funny how in school, punishment is public humiliation. Now that isn't setting kids up for a bright future now is it?

I get into a plank position, my low pony swinging to my right shoulder as I begin to lower and raise myself.
Doing the push-ups isn't that pas. It's the awkward silence of everyone waiting for you.

Once I finish, I stand up and slide my hands on one another to brush off whatever dirt is on the gym floor.

"Join the class next time," he says with wrinkles on his forehead from the raising of his brows.
The second he looks away, I roll my eyes.

"Looks like more of you want to go to the workout room so let's head on down," he announces and turns around as we all follow.

"I fuckin' hate him," a familiar, cute voice says from behind me. I turn back to see those sea green eyes and honey blonde hair. And then I smile.
"Same..." I sigh as the tall figure walks beside me.

"If someone doesn't raise their hand it's literally not a big deal. Gym teachers are just pussies," he scoffs and I can't help but giggle a bit.
Connor's honestly a pretty funny guy. He's got it all. The looks, the humor, the kindness, he's great.

"Hey I was wondering if you're free today. After school? I mean it's Friday and I'm assuming your free?" He asked in question form as we turned the corner and made it to the workout room.

I smile at his curiosity and nod, "Yeah I'm free! You want me to go there? Or if not you can come to my house? I don't think my dad will be home until later, but you'll have to deal with my annoying brothers." I smile. The blonde boy nods and smiles when I mention my family.