2: Across Campus

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1) My computer shut down earlier, and deleted the chapter -.- So I've had to re-write like half of it, cos thankfully, I saved half of it to wattpad. *Sigh*

2) After a day of posting, we have rankings on the Romance / Humor lists! Humor #624 / Romance #963  And Chasing Chase: Romance #392 / Humor #262

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I couldn’t escape my creative writing class quick enough. Mr Gold had decided he wanted us to write about a pineapple. Yes, a freaking pineapple. According to him, us writing about a pineapple was more interesting than some of the stuff we wrote and handed in.

I’m seriously dreading giving in the piece I’m working on. He’s going to chew it to pieces, spit it out, and stamp on it.

Sighing, I continue to walk hurriedly away from the classroom. The last thing I needed was for him to call me back and tell my Pineapple lacked ‘feelings’.

“Harley!” someone calls from behind me. “Wait up!”

Turning around, I sigh in relief to see it’s just Nate. “Hey,” I say, as he gets closer to me. “What’s up?”

He shrugs, “Nothing much,” he replies, throwing his arm around my shoulders. I groan at the impact. “How was creative writing?”

“Terrible.” I groan.

“Oh,” he says, his lips turning downwards in a frown, “That sucks.”

I nod my head, “Tell me about it.”

“It’ll get better,” he smiles, nodding his head enthusiastically. “You’ll get better, and it’ll all become much easier. Trust me.”

I chuckle, “Nate, usually whenever you say ‘trust me’ it doesn’t end well. Don’t you remember the time with the hair dye?”

“Hey!” he gasps. “You rocked those green highlights.”

Rolling my eyes, I steer us in the direction of the cafeteria. I was starving.

“Anyways,” he says, “Don’t tease me. At least I wasn’t the one who thought I was pregnant, and then nearly killed my boyfriend because he nearly choked to death.”

Glaring at him, I murmur, “Shut up,” and push the doors open to the cafeteria. Immediately, I head over to the pizza stand, and Nate follows behind me.

I pick up a piece of warm, cheesy pizza. I’m expecting it to be warm, not burning hot, so when I pick it up, it nearly burns my fingers. Hissing, I quickly drop it back down on the side, and inspect the pads of my fingers. “Ow,” I moan, seeing that they’re really red. “That hurt.”

“You idget,” Nate says, copying Bobby Singers (from Supernatural) way of saying ‘idiot’. “I’ll carry it.”

He picks both of the pizza slices up, not hissing at the heat, and carries them to check out. All the while, I suck on my burning fingers, my eyebrows furrowed with the pain.

“Thanks,” I tell Nate, as he pays for them both. He replies with a roll of the eyes. He walks to a table, which is occupied by three other people.

Chase, Asher and Sammie occupy the table.

Nate and I sit down, and immediately all eyes go to me. “What did you do?” Chase asks, taking my fingers from my mouth.

“I burnt my fingers on my pizza.” I say frowning. Chase frowns, rolls his eyes, and picks my fingers up gently, and kisses the end of them. “Thanks.” I say, with a small smile.

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