This means nothing, right?

Chapter 4

Abbie.

It was another torturous mandatory hour in Art History. Mrs. Vincent kept blabbing on and on, and when it comes to Art History, there’s always going to be a slideshow we’ll be forced to watch.

Only today, she didn’t feel like it and instead blabbed on about how music nowadays have changed but if we listened closely, we can still see the small tiny resemblance to the music back then, how it- oh, you don’t give a crap, but still, today’s lesson is better than the lesson a week ago about Rembrandt. The slideshow...holy- We stayed over an hour because the show wasn’t done yet.

Everyone wasn’t really into this lesson, only a few who were sitting in the front and the middle, the people in the back was dead tired and looked at the front of the room not because they care but because they look like they’re just programmed to sit there and listen.

I really need to help these people.

I rolled my eyes and discreetly crossed my fingers as I did a small countdown in my head, the bell’s going to ring any second now.. 5...4...3...2...1...? Maybe not in 5 seconds exactly, let’s try again Abbie. 10...9...8...- BRINGGGG!!

Of course, only when I started counting again that the bell decided that it should actually give me-- Us the obviously needed break.

Normal school finished at, at least 2, or maybe 2.45, but of course Mirchoff’s too “awesome” to be let out that soon, our school’s out at 4. Yes, you’ve heard right. We got out from school at 4 PM, four post meridiem...that’s what P.M. stands for...you know...it’s in Latin?

Before you shake your pretty little head, thinking that Mirchoff’s must’ve been teaching us Latin, no, fortunately, they’re not teaching us Latin, (although there’s a dance class in Mirchoff’s and I’m pretty sure something Latin-y is involve in there) I found out the what P.M. stands for on my first week here, explained by the all perfect Jolina, though I think pretty much everyone knows that, whether they’re a genius or not? That’s basic knowledge, isn’t it? I don’t know.

I grabbed the still perfect book (perfect due to the lack of opening it) and made my way out of the classroom. The hall was pretty busy and everyone kept themselves occupied with their friends, talking and chattering.

Cue the emotionally unstable teenage girl sighs. Maybe I should go hang out with Evan- er, I mean, make out with him, he did suggest that we meet up after school earlier this morning. Or maybe I should go back to Brayden and Tristan’s, though I really think Bray could use a good sleep or something, and besides, Tristan’s not back yet.

I was about to let out a small groan of frustration but then a familiar hand covered my mouth gently and the other was rested against my waist as he dragged me towards a place, I later on recognized as the boys locker room.

“Someone’s back in school” Evan grinned as he sat down on one of the locker room’s benches and pulled me down to sit across him. “I thought you were ditching today”

“Believe me, I wanted to- I was ditching but then- wait, does it really matter?” I asked him, my eyebrows quirked up and leaned closer towards him, snaking my arms around his neck.

He didn’t even bother to answer, he crashed his lips on mine and the whole “emotionally unstable teenage girl” disappeared and hide back way deep down inside me. I let out all of the loneliness I felt into the kiss, making our kiss more needy.

He laid me down on my back and he started to run his fingers through my hair as I ran my fingers up and down his muscular chest. None of us wanted to end the kiss but eventually we had to, we need to breathe.