𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛! ✧ ｡⁺ ˚࿐
cherry garcia teaches finney blake how to not be a loser.
❝𝗠𝗬 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗡𝗢𝗪.❞
❝𝗜𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔𝗡 𝗔𝗖𝗖𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧!❞
#1 in finnblake
#2 in theblackphone
#7 in finneyblake
#8 in enemiestolovers
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FINNEY SHUT HIS LOCKER!
The bell rang, signaling it was time to head to the next period of the day.
For Finney, it was AP Environmental Science. He stuffed the textbook into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
He joined the stream of kids moving down the hallway. Fortunately for him, it was a short walk. He pushed the door open. He didn't bother looking at the scattered students. He found an empty seat in the back row, setting his materials down.
The teacher began to move through the lesson. He listened intently, scribbling down what he thought was important in his notebook.
Twenty minutes late, Cherry Garcia stepped into the classroom, one hand holding onto a cup of iced coffee.
It was expected of her by now to not care so much about her studies. Finney didn't understand how she kept an A in the class without ever being present.
"You're late." The teacher commented as he took the tardy slip.
"Huh." She replied, making her way between the rows of seats to the back of the classroom.
The only empty seat was the one beside Finney. Her assigned seat, the space she would've been taking if she showed up to class more than a couple of times a month.
Finney had always been observant. He could pick up on things about her without having to actually talk to her. She wasn't a subject of interest to him. He didn't think much was going on in her brain.
What caught his eye was her appearance.
She expressed so much without saying anything. Her body language was always calm and relaxed. She carried herself like she'd never had any sort of anxiety a day in her life. Finney doubted she was capable of that.
The girl didn't lower her voice as she greeted her friends on the way to her seat.
Finney thought he had her boiled down to a couple of simple words. Abrasive, spirited, and self-centered.
He'd gained all knowledge of her from the way she presented herself. He overheard her conversations and took in the details of her outfit.
Oftentimes, he'd catch himself staring at her. His eyes were always drawn to her, no matter where he was, or who was in the room.
She existed in a way that declared attention. Bright red dyed hair and clothing equally as loud.
Vain, he'd determined from the way her tan skin reflected the light. She must've spent hours with her beauty products, because her skin looked like CGI.
Where other people looked at her and only saw what she presented herself as, he seemed to decipher her. He knew more than she knew about herself.
He'd never seen anybody like her before. She looked like a piece of artwork. He observed her from the corner of his eye, watching the way she stood out in the bland crowd of other people.
