Trust me.

Prologue

Levi's P.O.V.  

I stumbled into my history classroom, my bag half falling off my shoulder, my school books in my hand , key to my locker pressing into the skin of my palm. Yep, classy as hell. 

I grinned apologetically at Professor. Jason Ford, my history teacher, "sorry bout that, prof. I was caught between finishing looking devilishly handsome or todays assignment. In an attempt to do both, I missed the bus." 

"I see you failed miserably at both," Prof. Ford declared after a brief glance at the assignment I handed him, he earned a few giggles from the class but I wasn't insulted, Bored-Ford was actually quite cool, just very grumpy in the mornings. 

"At my report, maybe, but my looks? Nah, I'm always covered in that department." I joked, running my free hand though my honey-brown hair, which was long enough to be annoying but thankfully not long enough to get in my eyes. 

A couple of girls near the back giggled, but the majority of students just rolled their eyes or hadn't been paying attention. 

I sighed inwardly, although history generally interested me, only one other good friend took this class, so I had one hour, three times a week to listen in about the French revolution, while my piers I knew but had never really talked to, threw spit-wads or were annoying in other ways. 
But it was fine, seeing as Olly Brown, the best, most annoying friend you get sat next to me, always knowing what to say to keep me out of a near-comatose status. 

"Are you going to drink in the attention all hour, or do I actually get the pleasure of continuing my lesson?" Prof. Ford asked, his husky voice dripping with sarcasm, here's the thing about Ford, he's in his early forties but dresses like my grandfather with the whole bow-tie, cord suit, get-up, which was why one of the many nick-names me and Olly had given him in the beginning of our freshman year was 'Cord-Ford'  

"Oh no, it's fine you can continue." I informed him with a sly smile. 

Ford rolled him eyes, and I made my way over to the table I shared with Olly.

See, my school had been a school for a long while, it was founded in 1854, way before girls where even aloud to go to school, it survived the civil war and every other dispute after that, but St. Patrick's didn't ever get redone, sure it got modernised a bit; gym, cafeteria, lockers,.. but our lockers still had little keyholes instead of padlocks, which sucked because I forgot my key a lot. And most of our classrooms still had these desks which seated two people, mostly it was just inconvenient.

As I sat down Olive greeted me with a nod, a on-going joke we had since watching this crazy 80's show 'Real talk' basically it was about this late-twenty-year-old dude who got drunk alot.
It was pointless, from a my twenty year old sister's point of view anyhow. But, from the perspective of the three other guys I considered my best friends, and mine, the show was unbelieveably fantastic. 
With a grin I returned the nod, acknowledging his presence. 

  

"-Anyway, as I was saying before Mr. Norton so kindly interrupted," 

"Any time, Professor!" I called, inturrupting him once more and earning me a few titters and/eye rolls from my class. 
Olly shook his head slightly, "you're so full of yourself, Norton." He whispered, his blue eyes gleaming with a hint of ammusment.
"You're saying that like it's a new disscovery, why so surprised, Olly?" I asked, using the nick-name he loathed the most.
"Surprise? Oh, that's because I was hoping you'd outgrown your meager exsistance and had actually started living in the real world, where bunnies fall out of the sky on Sundays." He said, quoting 'Real Talk' with a grin. 
"Real talk, huh?" 
"I saw an opportunity and I took it."