𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘, chris sturniolo

𝟎𝟎𝟖, isn't he, like, a player?

★ S P A R K S   F L Y  ★

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chapter EIGHT! 💌

( "isn't he, like, a player?" )

— real life + imessage —

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

REAL LIFE! — 🍓

it was monday lunchtime, and annie was making the slow and treacherous walk from math to the cafeteria. her brain was fried from learning how to do identities from scratch, and her shoes dragged across the floor as she walked out onto the upper foyer, tiredness clouding her vision.

truth be told, annie was still hungover from saturday night, which was something she was clearly alone in, as everyone was in seemingly good spirits today... well, everyone except her. annie rarely drank, hence why she was still feeling the effects of mason's alcoholic fruit punch, tied in with the multiple beers and shots.

upon reflection, maybe the party life wasn't for her; annie swore she could still smell the cherry vodka in her hair, and her head still felt fuzzy, the lights too bright as she made her way down the stairs, taking two at a time.

annie had been much worse yesterday — she'd spent the entire day wrapped up in her blanket on the couch, binging brooklyn 99, before inhaling a cane's chicken sandwich, which was promptly thrown back up. in fact, she'd been awful when she'd been dropped back home the saturday night. according to her dad, annie had fallen asleep next to the toilet, and had dropped her phone into the water.

her phone had been sitting in a bag of rice since then, and it was for this reason that annie hadn't had the chance to update any of her friends on the incident with chris sturniolo on the porch swing... hence why she was dreading stepping foot into the cafeteria, already sensing faye's anger, cove's questions, and iris' small nods of agreement.

annie reached the double doors, exhaling loudly, before pushing them open, her nose subconsciously scrunching up in disgust at the overwhelming smell of meatloaf. god, she hated the cafeteria; it was cramped and noisy, and faye always chose the table the furthest away from the entrance, which was why annie was having to weave her way through the busy room, purposely bumping into all the slow walkers.

she quickly scanned the area in hopes of finding faye's distinguishable red hair, or cove's bright pink shirt, but instead finding her eyes falling on the one, the only, chris sturniolo, sat near her three friends, in conversation with jackson harris.

their eyes locked briefly, and annie swore she could see a genuine smile lining chris' face, his features almost lighting up. she felt her lips twist downwards, disgusted that he could even have the audacity to look her way after the arm over shoulder stunt at the party.

annie ignored the unwanted butterflies filling her stomach, and silently willed the blush spreading across her cheeks to die down, before continuing to walk forwards, her eyes trained on the linoleum tiles beneath her. she still felt chris' eyes burning into her side, and annie picked up her pace in response, holding out her middle finger as she passed his table.