Chapter 1: Spam, um, I mean Sam

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"Hey there, Spam," I heared his voice annoyingly close to my ear. 

"What do you want, Harry?" I asked in annoyance. I spun on my heels to face him, and I saw that he had a smug grin on his face. "What did you do to me now?" 

"Nothing, but, um, you've got a little bit of blue paint on your bum." He cracked up laughing and his friends did along with him. 

"Oh, so you were just staring at my ass? Or did it just pop out and slap you saying, "Look at me. I'm Sam's ass, and I have blue paint on me!"?" I asked sarcastically.

"Erm, the second one?" 

I groaned and turned around to continue walking down the hall towards my locker. I could still hear his footsteps right behind me as he followed me down the hall. "What do you want, Harry?"

"Um, how about a kiss?" he asks. Everyone in the hall around us stopped what they're doing, and they looked at us with wide eyes while trying to decipher my emotions from the expression on my face. 

"How about no?" I asked rhetorically. 

"Aw, come on, Spam. Just one kiss," he said while making kissing noises as he continued to follow me through the hall. 

"Two things: My name is Sam, not Spam, and I will never, ever kiss you, Harry Styles. Ever!" I opened my locker and shoved my sketchpad into it. Art class was my least favorite, and I always left the classroom with some kind of stain on my clothing. I grabbed my geometry book and started to walk in the opposite direction. Once again Harry was right on my heels. "Go away Harry."

"Spam, um, I mean Sam, we have the same class together. I have to go this way," he told me. 

"Right. I forgot. I guess that's what happens when you ignore someone so utterly annoying as you," I saed as we walked down the hall of scattered students. 

"I'm not that bad. You love it, really." 

"Hah! I'll love anything involving you when pigs fly," I snorted. 

His eyes grew wide, and he looked at me with complete insanity in his expression. "I can make that happen," he whispered to me. 

I rolled my eyes and took my seat once we're in the classroom. Mr. Brown was my favorite teacher, and not to mention he was young and hot. Sure, I was only fifteen, but that didn't mean that I couldn't think that. All of the girls would make oogly eyes at him whenever he walked into the room, and the boys would just puff out their chests and act more manly than him. In reality, all of the boys were jealous, and none of the girls stood a chance with him because of age difference, the entire fact that he was our teacher, and his beautiful wife. 

"Good morning class," he said happily as he walked into the room with a steaming cup of tea. 

"Good morning, Mr. Brown," the girls cooed while the boys remained silent. 

"Well, since I had been up grading tests all night I hadn't been able to get anything ready for class today, so were just going to watch a movie," he said. He pulled a movie from his desk drawer and put it into the dvd player. I got out my notebook and began to doodle while the rest of the class' eyes were glued to the television screen watching a boring movie. 

"What are you doing?" Harry asked me from the desk behind me. 

"What's it to you?" I whispered back to him. He leaned in closer, and I could feel his breath hot on my neck. 

"I'm very curious. Come on, Spam, just let me see it." He reached over my shoulder and grabbed the notebook from my hands. 

"Hey! Give that back, Styles!" I yelled. I got up from my seat and tried to get my notebook back, but Mr. Brown's booming voice stopped me. 

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