Mr.Player Meets Ms. Player While Playing Games

Chapter 1

"Holy mother!" Tessa shouted.

I leaned down to pick up my pencil and bumped my head in the process. Stupid Tessa, always shouting. One day, I'll duct tape her mouth shut.

"God, what now Tess?" I whispered in annoyance. The trig lesson wasn't over yet and shouting won't exactly help my test scores.

"Look at the new kid!", she whispered in excitement.

I quickly turned my head towards the direction she was pointing in, dropping my pencil once more. My jaw dropped.

Impossible! Seriously? Tessa only tells me now?

"Is..is that?", I stuttered, " Harry...mother of god...HARRY POTTER!"

The hyperventilation in my body organs tripled into over drive. He was hot. Like as hot as a jalepeño burrito on cinco de mayo.

He won't love me! I mean look at him. His dark unruly hair swaying in the air condtitioned math room, his forehead scar glistening sexily, his neck veins throbbing to the beat of his pencil tapping, and his cloak mysteriously covering his drool worthy abs.

Yup, you can tell he has abs, because its sculpted through his cloak. I bet they taste good, like unicorns! Yum, voldie can't suck that, cuz babe he's mine. Oh yes, that's what normal decent girls think of when you see a hot guy. If their abs are you know, lickable.

Tessa gave me a wierd look.

"No, Skye, thats Harry Shtiles" she whispered back.

I almost sobbed in dissapointment. Its ok, he still has unicorn abs.

"Oh" I whimpered.

The bell rang and I picked up my old, weather beaten, Gucci bag. Stupid thing, always making me look like a stuck up biotch.

Anyway, maybe I should approach this Harry Shtiles.

So I did, I walked right up to him.

"Hey, there! So your new?" I asked and bit my lip nervously. I twirled my hair violently and tried to avoid eye contact. So I stared at his cloak.

When I glanced up at him, I noticed that he looked at my bag in disgust.

"You look like a stuck up biotch, carrying a mother frucking Gucci bag, think of fricken Africa!" he hissed.

With that he flicked his dark, luminous, touchable hair aside and swooshed his perfectly round buns down the hall way.

I cried down and crumpled down to the floor.

Why? stupid Gucci! I hope everyone who ever created, sold, or bought a Guccie bag DIES!

I pulled my hair and cried some more. The pain was unbearable. I felt like a glass window being painfully shattered due to a baseball. A fish dragged out of water. A hyena with its laughter stolen.

Determination pumped through my veins as I picked my hearts broken pieces up off the school floor.

I'll show him.

I'll show that atrociously, good-looking, harry potter looka like, perfect haired, firm bunned, boy who he's messing with.

I furrowed my eye brows and stood up angrily with my fists bunched up.

"Here I come Sephora", I whispered.

Here I frucking come.