"What are we doing?" I ask him under my breath, because our English teacher is rambling on about the Titanic sinking, oblivious to us walking in late. I take my pencil case and organiser out of my bag but Chris is simply leaning back into his chair, looking as though he's lounging at home, not at school.
He shrugs mutely and puts his hands behind his head. He looks as though he's bored as hell, and I can't help but feel a bit hurt even though it's aimed at the lesson, not me.
"Okay," I say. "Great." I cannot help the sarcasm leaking through my voice, and he turns his head and smirks at me.
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken Desires
RomanceThis is a story I'm writing with @yourworshipfulnesss, we are taking it in turns to write :)
