"In California with my toes in the sand," he hummed, his body slowly swaying. I emerged from the corner I was hiding behind and smiled.
"Use the sleeves of my sweater," I sung. He turned around, a smirk playing on his lips. He approached me, intertw...
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One word for you, synonym for hell and no - it's not school.
Chemistry.
Sound the collective groans.
Mr. Paroli was blabbing about something I couldn't be bothered to focus on. All I could think about was the fruity scent of Jacksons' shirt and him right next to me.
His sandy-blonde hair was brushed across his forehead as he payed attention to the notebook in front of him. He was scribbling down notes at such a speed it was hard for me to keep up even if he was the center of my attention.
"The bell is about to ring, everybody pack up," those words triggered a few cheers from the students behind us and a sigh of relief from me. "I didn't know y'all hate me that much," Mr. Paroli grinned.
Jackson slid his notebook into his backpack and swung it over his shoulder. I copied his actions and pushed in my chair.
"And so we part," he grinned. His eyes were lit up like the sky on a cloudless summer day. His smile showed off his white teeth which could have been mistaken for pearls.
In all honesty, Jackson reminded me of a beach. The sandy-blonde hair, the ocean-blue eyes, and to top it off his teeth were so pearly that they looked like the treasures that laid at the bottom of the sea.
"Hasta luego," I waved (get it?) him off with a smile. As we walked out of the classroom, he went one way and I went to the other. From my knowledge, he had History next while I had lunch. We literally had the same schedule, other than that.
Faith was lingering outside the cafeteria with another girl. The girl next to Faith had a crown of straight, brown hair. She had green eyes, slightly darker than Faith's. Her outfit was a a hoodie (which I pay my respects to her, Florida is steaming) and paired with some Nike shorts.
"Hey guys," I grinned and shoved my hands into the pockets of my shorts.
"Sierra, Alana. Alana, Sierra," Faith introduced us with a genuine smile. I opened my arms for a hug which she politely declined, shaking my hand instead.
"Hi," I smiled. "Are you new?"
She nodded, "yeah. I moved here from Michigan."
"That's awesome, welcome to Florida," I laughed. "Quite the difference, hm?"
"Yeah," she snorted. "Quite the difference. I barely even wore shorts back up there."
We flung open the doors of the cafeteria, cursed by the ever-lasting stench of whatever they hide in the kitchens and in the lunch ladies hair nets'. I held my breath - that smell never gets old.
"We usually sit outside," Faith stated. "Nobody really wants to sit in here any longer than they have to."
Alana nodded with strands of her straightened-chocolate hair falling onto her forehead. I sped-walked to the doors to the outside world and quickly pushed them open.
