"lucy!" i whipped my head around to see sarah running toward me with full force. her ginger curled locks flowed elegantly in the fresh summer breeze. she slid to join me on the picnic table outside the sixth form building. i gestured for her to continue as i ate a pom bear.
"i just won the history competition! you were right, it was easy. that hottie mark almost beat me though." she rambled, as i struggled to keep up.
"i knew it! stop underestimating yourself, you are a history god!" we both squealed with glee.
suddenly, i heard a deep, cheeky chuckle that i instantly recognised, my features growing cold. as sarah's face grew to something of distaste, my suspicions had been confirmed: robert pitcher. AKA the worst person in the school. his mission is to torment me and he won't leave me alone, now matter how much i beg.
"hey loser lucy! whattya eating today? fluffy meat cake?" he shouts and his group falls into laughter as if it was synchronised.
i finally turn to face him and i hate to admit that he looks especially handsome today. his brunette hair was styled into effortless waves that were almost too long, looking shaggy and unkempt. he wears a varsity jacket with the letter 'A' on it for Augustine; our schools name. under that, a black shirt hangs off his collarbones and i hold back a disgusted expression as i notice the stains on it. for bottoms, he wears baggy black jeans and some new high top converse. he ruffles back his hair with a muscly hand and looks incredibly smug with his terrible insults.
"no, just pom bears. what about you, pitcher? a 5 year old melted chocolate bar?" i hear sarah gasp, the only times i talk back to him are when i'm feeling especially frustrated. for a second, i feel self conscious as he looks me up and down with an unreadable expression which morphs into a smirk.
"pom bears? what are you, five? go back to your mummy, lucy, and paint your little pictures." he says as he mindlessly spins the football under his foot. fortunately, the conversation is cut short as one of his asshole friends swerves the ball from under his feet, sprinting off. of course, in the his classic jock way, pitcher can't deny a football match and runs after him.
