Chapter 3

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A/N: Woohoo, double the reads! THANKS! Y'all are the best 😍

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“That is not a girl, that is a whale!”

Monday morning, I realized I made the mistake of picking an early class. 8:30am to be exact. I thought that if I could get up early for high school then this class would be cake. Nope. Never had I been more wrong cause I didn’t calculate Ash keeping me up till three in the morning watching Supernatural. Nor did she mention her first class wasn’t until eleven.

It was now 8:24 and I was running. Yes, running. And I fail at running. It also didn’t help that I chose to wear another pair of skinny jeans and flip flops for the first day. I rounded a corner ignoring stares from passerby’s that were probably surprised someone my size could walk let alone run.

My pace slowed as I neared the classroom and I allowed myself a breather before walking in. Clutching my books to my chest, I stepped further into the small room to see maybe a quarter of the desks filled. I glanced up at the clock and saw it just change to 8:30; not even the professor was here yet. I ran for nothing.

With a huff, I kept to the side as I headed to the back and situated myself by the window. The professor soon followed and a couple other students, including the boy from the coffee shop. He wore a long sleeved tee that hugged his frame and a pair of jeans that hung loose on his hips.

He looked up then, surprise crossing his features. He smirked as he made a beeline for the empty seat to my right. I looked away then, eyes focused on the front; he chuckled beside me.

“Good morning class and welcome to Econ 101. I am Professor Striker or you can address me as Major. Now, get out your syllabus…”

The professor dived right in and I got out my recorder so I could pay more attention.

“A recorder? How old school,” the mysterious boy commented in a hushed tone.

I felt my cheeks go hot and I turned to glare at him. Instead, I was greeted with his smirking face. He held a hand out to me.

“Johnny Masters.”

Cautiously, I shook his hand. Feeling a jolt, I pulled away. “Lennon Jennings.”

“Lennon as in-”

“Yes, John Lennon. The Beatles, etc.” I replied with an eye roll. Times like this I hated my name.

He chuckled again, “your parents must be major hippies.”

“My dad yes,” I smiled softly.

“I understand; my mom was a big Johnny Depp fan, didn’t tell my dad till later.”

“Was?”

Something dark crossed his features and he faced the front, going silent. Lennon frowned, wondering where their conversation went wrong. Rather than questioning, she choose to face the professor, her main focus on the remaining class.

“…this project will be graded at the end of term and count for a third of your overall course grade. You have the option to work by yourself, with a partner, or in a group. But if you chose to work with others, chose wisely. If your partner or group mate doesn’t participate, they will receive a zero and that percentage will be included in your final grade. Class dismissed, see you all Wednesday.”

The majority of the class packed up and were out the door in a flash, even the professor which was interesting. Johnny kept his head down as he quietly packed and stood up just as quickly. Shouldering my bag, I bit my lip before taking the plunge.

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