i try to turn around before he notices me staring but he catches my eye and i turn around blushing. I know i shouldn't have feeling towards him but he is so attractive. He knows that too because he acts like a total jerk to girls and they fall for him. His hair is perfectly swayed like Justin Biebers hair with his Cali hat. Lots of people don't like Justin Bieber but i give him props for his hair, not recently though. I refuse to ever be one of those girls that fall for a guy but end up getting used.
"Hello?" Josh says
i ignore him because i dont want to be embarrassed if he isnt talking to me
"Madison"
"What?" i say as i turn about
"I caught you starring at me i mean i dont blame you, who wouldnt?" he says and starts laughing. i roll my eyes and turn around but that doesnt stop him from still carrying on the conversation.
"Im joking. You better get use to me because we are going to sitting in these seats the whole year" he says. i turn around with my mouth open.
"The whole year?! seriously?" i say a little louder than i intended and i get the attention from people sitting around us and i mouth sorry.
He starts laughing,"Yeah Mr. Jones is like that. every year he doesnt want to waste time making new seating charts so these are our permanent seats for the year and dont be so mad you can stare at me when you want, all you have to do it turn around" he smiles and laughs. i literally get butterflies when he laughs and i cant help but smile.
"What the fondue. You better be kidding about having these seats all year because i will go crazy if i am stuck by his desk forever" i say and turn around
The bell rings.
"Sorry if i am interrupting any conversations but my name is Mr. Jones and i am going to be your teacher for the year unless some of you chose to to drop this course. if that is the case dont waste my time"
Oh lord he is going to one of those angry teachers and i have to starts the day off with him all year. I need a Rebel from Dutch Bros to lighten my mood. i sigh at the thought becasue i dont have one right now.
