𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘, chris sturniolo

𝟎𝟏𝟏, i don't need borrowing

★ S P A R K S   F L Y  ★

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chapter ELEVEN! 💌

( "i don't need borrowing." )

— real life + imessage —

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

REAL LIFE! — 🍓

the sound of the bell at the end of lunch was like music to annie's ears, and she jumped out of her chair victoriously, a smile resting on her lips. no chris for another week! it was almost like a reward for putting effort into a club she never wanted to join in the first place. although, when she stole a glance at said boy, his face was twisted into a frown, watching her intently as she packed her stuff away. way to make someone feel uncomfortable.

annie shook her head, and started to walk away from chris, already feeling a weight lifting off her shoulders. but, just when she thought she was rid of him, his shrill voice cut straight through her.

"you're not gonna walk me to english?"

the response to that was obvious — a scowl, and a middle finger, which is exactly what annie gave chris as she continued her path towards the door. she couldn't believe he still had the audacity to flirt with her, when it was so clear that she held no interest in him.

okay, so maybe the green eyes incident at the party overruled this, and was probably why chris was so persistent, but still. annie's guard was up, and nothing was going to bring it down.

she left mrs charley's classroom, still thinking about chris (in a disgusted way!) as she pushed her way through the crowded halls, on a mission to get to mr browne history. why she was in a rush was beyond her, because, last time annie checked, she hated mr browne.

oh fuck. mr browne history. she'd been too swept up in chris, and his gross flirtatious comments, that she'd somehow managed to forget that he was her teacher for her last period that day. annie groaned, tilting her head back in annoyance. it wasn't even like annie hated history — she just despised mr browne.

he was a textbook teacher, with a bald spot, coffee breath, and a personal vendetta against her. it was very rare that mr browne didn't shout annie's name in an angry tone at least once each lesson, even if she wasn't doing anything wrong. i mean, yes, he was usually annoyed at the whole history class, but the irritation was somehow always directed at her.

and, the most annoying thing of all was that annie genuinely enjoyed what they were learning about; cold war was something she found quite interesting, but it was real hard to focus when mr browne was glaring at the entire class over his laptop.

the second bell rang through the corridors, and made annie jump, her once good mood due to not having to see chris for another week now dampened as she realised mr browne would probably shout at her for being late. so, with reluctance, she pushed open the door into the history classroom, observing how she was the last one to arrive. fuck.

"glad you could finally join us, miss wickes." mr browne hissed the last two words, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

annie sighed. she really wasn't in the mood to be subject to his glares. "sorry, sir. i went to the toilet."