The boy from across the road.

3

We walked in to the studio behind our other classmate.
The lights and cameras had been set up and everyone was talking excitedly about how they're grandchildren would see them in the future.

Let's face it, a little kid isn't going to walk up to his parents and ask to see a teen photo of they're grandparent, atleast I wouldn't.

A short fat man walked in to the room along with our principal Mr. Longshire.
Weird name I know I know.

"I want everyone standing in a line, when it's your turn you sit on the stool, smile, picture, next. All clear?"
Everyone silently nodded and the line formed.
Me and Riley were at the back considering we didn't really care about the whole thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's nearly my turn and can I just say, I'm considering just walking out and sending in a picture of my own.
Currently sat on the stool is Thomas Penson. His blonde hair is gelled up and his blue eyes seem tired, much like mine.
Thomas is best known in our school for being the lovable jock. He doesn't make friends based on social status, which I admire. He was nice and funny, and that was enough to get him in my good books.
The flash went off and Thomas rose from the seat and walked out.
"Next!" the photographer called.
And then in the stool sat none other than Jack Donacio.
His black hair messy as always and his eyes glistening. His black shirt tight to emphasize his muscular body and his various band bracelets all in an order that looked surprisingly tidy.
He smiled a dazzling smile, and it felt like a cage of butterflies were released in my stomach.

Are you trying to kill me Donacio?!

The flash went off and Jack stood, looking around the room quickly before spotting me and winking, then exiting the room.
How does he do that?! Seriously...

After a few minutes I sat in the stool, my nervousness was clearly obvious on my face because the photographer told me to just relax.
I smiled, and soon the flash went off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack's POV

I sat in English bored out of my mind.
Why do I need this again? I'm already fluent!
I sat back in my chair and started doodling in my notebook, I'm not an amazing artist if you ask me, but I'm not terrible either.
I felt a slight nudge on my shoulder and my attention snapped up to the person next to me. Zack Gordon. A.K.A my best mate.

"Dude you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

He shrugged. "You just doodled the name 'Olivia' on your notebook in permanent marker..."

I looked down to see he was right, Olivia? Who the heck is Olivia?