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(L/f/c) stands for least favorite class Readers pov: I looked around the hallway, bored out of my mind. I left class to use the bathroom, but walking back, I wanted nothing more than to not have to go back into that torture chamber of (L/f/c). I paused suddenly, feeling like someone else was around. I turned my head to the left, spotting someone anyone could recognize. Duke, the one and only. The one who girls worshipped and guys envied. The one who would constantly get into fights with joey. The one who was obsessed with dice. The one I happened to have a large crush on. He was leaning against a wall, one hand was playing with his jet black locks, the other hand was turning a dice over, as he examined it with a smirk. He was probably skipping class again. Only the fourth time this week...and it's Monday. As I walked past, I failed to notice him eyeing me carefully, his smirk never leaving his face. Looking down, I felt my face crash into a lean chest, making me stumble backwards. When I saw it was Duke, I blushed. "Are you a happy meal? Cause I'm lovin it." I blink once, then twice. I can't Help but start to laugh. " That's the best you can do? " Duke gives me a insulted look, though I can tell he's only playing around. "Whatever, I tried ok!" I grinned up at him, me being the shorter one. " Skipping class? " He smirked, leaning against the wall and doing a small hair flip. "You know it babe." My face was so red, it would make a ripe cherry seem dull. I turned, so he couldn't see my red face. "Well, nice chatting with ya, but I gotta get to class." He nodded, still smirking as I walked away. At the end of the day, when I opened my locker, a small sticky note fell out of my locker. I'm no photographer, but I can picture me and you together. Will you go out with me? -Duke
