Chapter Four: Your Own Personal Stalker!

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Chapter Four: Your Own Personal Stalker!

       “So, he came down there, just like that?” Piper asked, stuffing her face with a sliver of fried potato.

       “Yup,” I nodded gently, glancing down at my own lunch of vegetarian lasagna that had appeared about twelve times more appealing ten minutes ago when I had bought it. I wasn’t hungry anymore.

       Most medias portrayed high school cafeteria food to be about as edible as a piece of clichéd cardboard. With my school, that simply was not the case. To be perfectly honest, the food that our cafeteria served was probably the best thing in the whole damn school. The food was good. The contents ranged from the ever so minimal pizza to gourmet chocolate chip cookies, and the occasional lobster or caviar dishes every once in a while. Oh, the limited advantages to attending a private school…

       “Why?” my best friend asked, her question muffled by the mouthful of mashed up starches she had inserted into her mouth.

       “I have no idea,” I said, staring down at my lunch. I was in one of those moods when any form of nutrients wouldn’t fill the void. Anorexia wasn’t a word that ever crossed my mind in regards to my eating habits, but, sometimes, I just wasn’t in the temperament to eat.

       “He’s, like, a senior, though,” she commented, trying to make sense of my day so far.

       I had told Piper of how Luke randomly came down to the library, and then spent the rest of the morning with me. Not wanting to socialize with the human race, I tried to ignore him and draw. Once I got into the right mentality, it wasn’t a challenging task, but there was something about my disregarding him that he was bothered by. It was an odd situation, to say the least.

       “Yeah,” I shrugged.

       “And then when it was time for lunch, all you said was ‘bye’?” her face grew puzzled.

       “I just told you that,” I rolled my eyes, wondering why she had the need to recount every little detail I had told her. It wasn’t like we were in a book and the author had fast-forwarded, requiring the information to be conveyed through Piper or something ludicrous like that.

       “I know, but still,” she sighed. “So, let’s get to the real stuff. Is he as hot in person as he is on Facebook?”

       “You should ask him—he’s coming over to us, anyways,” my voice held an amused tone, as Piper rapidly turned her head to view the one and only Luke Daniels, who happened to be walking straight in our direction.

       “It’s like you have your own personal stalker! This is so cool, Livy!” Piper exclaimed, regaining her previous posture.

       “Or creepy,” I muttered dully, my eyes glued to Luke’s scuffed-up shoes as I saw his feet continue to near us. After an elongated few seconds, two, black, aged Converse came to halt right below my vision.

       “Hi,” a distinct voice belonging to the boy who had spent the morning with me greeted.

       “Holy fudge cakes! You’re Luke Daniels!” was Piper’s brilliant reaction to the unadorned, two-lettered salutation. My head snapped up, a smirk playing at the edges of my lips in response to Piper’s bluntness, as I regrettably locked eyes with the individual to whom she had been addressing.

       “And, I believe, that you’re Piper Kent,” he said, his eyes still locked with mine.

       “Livy, Luke Daniels knows my name! Oh my golly gosh! Now this, is something worth putting in that diary of yours!” she blabbed away enthusiastically.

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