Chapter 5: Fun Time in Chemistry with Mr. Argo

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A/N: Hello lovelies! Short little note before the chapter! Thank you all SO SO much for 150+ reads on my first fic ever on a new account!! It really means so much to me because I love this story and it's great to know that people are actually reading it. I'd also really appreciate it if you followed, voted, commented, etc. I don't bite I promise! I love y'all and onto the fic!
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The next forty-five minutes were complete and utter torture.

I'm not even exaggerating.

You could've repeatedly slammed my pinky in a car door, and it still wouldn't hurt as much as Ms. Achterberg's English class.

She was about a hundred years old, with a scent that can only be described as a mixture of cats, mothballs, and cheese which trailed behind her wherever she went.

I mean, I'm sure that she was a decent teacher back in the day, but at the time, she was practically blind and everything had to be repeated two or three times simply for her to hear it.

Which made for an extremely boring English class.

But that wasn't the worst part. Michael and his pack of asshats spent the entire period shooting spitballs at Luke. And I honestly did not particularly enjoy the sight of Luke's face dropping as he flinched and sunk deeper into his chair each time one of the little paper balls made contact with the back of his head.

It just doesn't add up.

Why Luke?

Sure, no one deserves to be bullied, but he really doesn't seem like the typical target.

I mean, he's definitely tall enough to kick their asses in.....

So why doesn't he?

And-not my opinion, just speaking factually here- he's pretty hot.

With that hair...and those eyes.

Which really doesn't make him seem like he'd be the victim of bullying.

No, I'd be more likely to peg him as the captain of some sports team-maybe basketball? The kind of guy who bullies other people and has girls flocking to his sides.

I mean, that's purely based off of stereotypes, but still....

It didn't make any sense. And I was going to figure it out.

After English class had finally passed, and French had come and gone, third period was next.

Which only meant one thing:

Chemistry time.

Chemistry was hands down my favorite class of all time-except for maybe Biology, but that was last year. And the best part of this particular Chemistry class was the fact that it was AP Chemistry.

Which meant no sophomores.

Or an intense scarcity of sophomores.

And that meant no dealing with disgustingly flirtatious devils or awkward blond tree boys that I just couldn't seem to avoid.

Nope. Not in this class.

So I strolled into Science Lab 4, feeling better than I had all day, and plopped down onto one of the four seats arranged around a table in the back row.

After I'd settled down, I quickly glanced around the room, taking in my surroundings.
So far, the classroom only consisted of three people:

A tall, muscular boy- probably a senior- wearing a Pine Crest Varsity Soccer jacket.

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