Skinny Love (completed)

"Jasmine, you'll be late ... "

"Jasmine, you'll be late for school." Dad pressed as he watched me finish my due-today-homework. "I don't understand why you didn't do it last night." He grumbled. I smiled at him and opened my binder.

"All finished!" I proudly announce as I stick the piece of homework in my binder. "Let's go!" I slip off the stool I was sitting at and went to run out to the car until dad stopped me.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"I don't have time, dad, let's go,"

"Grab something, then." I roll my eyes and grab a granola bar.

"I can't wait to drive," I express as I buckle myself in at the driver's seat. My dad sighs and beckons for me to go.

"Me neither, I can go back to sleeping in." I giggle and drive to school with the radio turned down low so that dad can get a few extra minutes of sleep. Just a few more days and I can test for my license.

I get to school, switch seats with dad, then wave goodbye. Upon walking into the school my friends wave to me and I run over to them while gripping my backpack straps.

The bell rings immediately and I'm left with telling my friends how I almost didn't get my homework done earlier on the way to class.

"I hate math." My friend, Miley, commented as she settled in her desk right in front of me. Her brown curls block my view of the board but it's been that way since the beginning of the school year and I don't let it bother me.

"This is the easiest math class, Mi, how hard is this to you?" She groaned at my teasing. "You're pathetic," another groan. I get out the homework I hurriedly had done earlier and began checking my answers with my friend's. Kids flocked in and conversation rose. A large shadow walked past me and I couldn't help but look up.

It was just Tristan Cole. It's always Tristan Cole. He's the tall kid in school that looms over you while walking in the halls. He's really cute but freakishly tall. I think the yearbook last year said that he was six feet tall and seven inches. That's really tall. At least to everyone around him in the school. There are rumors that his mom is 6'5" and his dad is 6'11". Talk about giants.

My eyes followed him to the back of the room and watched as he stretched his legs out all the way under the next chair in front of him. He pulled out his earplugs and shoved them into his backpack. He then grabbed out his binder and pulled the homework out. I turned my attention back to Miley and then the second bell rang, allowing the teacher to start Algebra II.

"Did you hear T Swift's song, "Shake It Off"?" Hannah asked at lunch. Hannah was my other friend. Me, Miley, and Hannah. The three musketeers since freshman year. And Hannah is our Taylor Swift fan. Even though the artist's new album was released half a year ago, Hannah was still trying to get us to listen to her music.

"Naw," Miley responded. "She's all pop now, I like her old country self."

"I love her." Hannah reminisced to herself. I shook my head, unable to get a Twenty-One Pilot song out of my head.

"He's looking over here again," Hannah whispered.

"Who?" I questioned.

"Tristan," I turned around and my friend was right, Tristan was indeed staring at us, or even better, me.

"He's totally checking you out," Miley giggled. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah right. We don't even know each other."

"So, get to know him."

"Why?"

"'Cause he's cute!"