Lovers #ShawRocketFundContest

『𝕌𝕟』

"Good morning class! My name is Mrs. Macey and I will be your teacher while Mr. Benson is away on parental leave!"

A plump, middle-aged woman wearing bright red high heels and several hipster-bead necklaces struts in obnoxiously, her heels clicking against the cold, tiled floor. She looks like the type who loves to listen to her own voice. 

Thursday had rolled around, and the students are all mentally dying, as no one wants to wait twenty-four hours to go home and not get up the next morning "I assume you did your homework?"

Head nods all around.

"Excellent, now today I have a series of videos for you to watch."

Mrs. Macey presses play on a YouTube playlist at least thirty videos long.

Amy tunes out halfway through the class, as on the screen, a creepy robotic-like child is explaining grammatical errors in the most rehearsed way possible.

She turns to look at her desk mate, an Asian boy, probably smaller than her (Which is impressive considering that Amy is only five-foot-six and they're both seniors in high school), with thin rimmed glasses in a pastel hoodie.

What was his name?

Ein? Erin? Something like that.

Amy grins as the boy pass a note to a taller, blonde-haired girl on the other side of the aisle. She watches with interest as the girl across the aisle whisper-yells at Amy's seatmate.

Don't eavesdrop, don't eavesdrop, don't eavesdrop. Amy chides herself.

Oh, screw it.

Amy strains her ears to hear her neighbor's very private conversation. (Yes, Amy is very aware she's going to hell. Give it a break.)

"Come on! Tell me!" The girl grumbles, crossing her arms and pouting.

Huh, Amy thinks, I didn't know she had a British accent.

The boy shakes his head fiercely and the girl whines "Please! You have got to tell me who you've like since freshmen year!"

Oh? Amy cocks her head. Interesting.

The boy whips his head around to check if anyone was listening before whisper scolding the girl "Be quiet Lydia! Someone could have heard you!"

If only he knew.

Amy smirks and clamps a hand over her mouth to stop her giggles.

Lydia, huh? Amy remembers. Didn't she transfer here halfway throughout the year?

After about five minutes of persuasion, the girl- Lydia finally gets the boy to scrawl a name on a torn-out page of her scribbler.

Lydia studies the paper carefully before scribbling an answer on the reverse and throwing it back. 

The two exchange pieces of scrapes for the remainder of the class and Amy grows ever increasingly curious.

Because she's as nosy as she is, Amy desperately tries to get a glimpse of the notes in the boy's hands.

Amy only sees a few words.

Football.

Brown hair.

Captain.

Green eyes.

Tall.

Amy pauses, the football team's captain had brown hair but blue eyes.

Wait, Lydia transferred in from the UK. Did they mean soccer?