School is fun, isn't it?

Not.

I'm currently about to bang my head against the desk because the English teacher wouldn't stop talking about English. If I could, I would run out of this class. It's definitely the most boring one yet.

"Project time which includes your favorite thing...essays!" The teacher squealed in excitement but the rest of the students just groaned in annoyance. "Guys, don't act too excited now."

I stared at her blankly as she made her joke, waiting for her to pass the papers out about the directions for this essay. I'm ready to get it over with.

"Now, this essay is different. It feels as if we are not as one, and that you all hate each other in this classroom." She spoke, glaring at each student she slapped the sheet down on their desk.

She's really not wrong about that.

"So I'm picking partners randomly and I want you both to type out a paper about the other. I want deep conversations, I want friendships made! This will not be presented, because I want you guys to dig deep on your pasts." She started to speak as if it was a speech and her life depended on it. My eyes blinked a few times as she kept going, unsure when it was going to stop.

I glanced around, not having Skye in here or Ryan. The only people I really knew were Travis and Sammy.

Sammy was surprisingly not sitting beside me today. He's a fucking weirdo who only sits by me to annoy me, but thankfully today, his seat was taken by another girl.

For Travis, he sat a few seats behind me and I tried so hard not to even make eye contact with him. He irks my nerves so badly just by looking at him. Especially after what he pulled the other day.

"I don't want to know the favorite colors of your partner, I want to know who they are even though most of you don't know who are are yet, and that's completely okay." She continued to ramble on with her speech, and for a moment I felt like she was the school counselor.

She placed a paper on my desk, and I started to read it with a few questions she wanted answered and wrote about your partner along with how many pages she wanted.

4 pages?!

She must be crazy, but I already knew that.

"Alright my rays of sunshine," She clasped her hands together at the front of the class and I shudder in disgust at her lame nickname for us, "Let's start the pairings."

She brought out another paper and started reading names at a time to be a pair. A lot of them were random, by what she says. I'm sure she hand-picked most of these names.

That was until my name was called along with the one person I hated most.

Sammy Sandars.

I closed my eyes with a long sigh as my eyes glanced over to Sammy who looked annoyed until his eyes connected with mine. He switched his expression from annoyance to a wide smile of satisfaction.

Him knowing I was annoyed by this pairing was all that he needed.

I wanted to so desperately ask for a different pairing but I knew that wasn't going to happen with everyone paired up now.

I ran my hands through my hair, bringing my eyes back onto the teacher who continued to ramble on about how it was due this Friday right before the Halloween Dance.

Finally, class ended as the bell rang. Students started to get up and leave as the teacher yelled at everyone not to forget because it was a huge part of our grade.

I get up as well, grabbing my books in my arm but felt a presence walking right up to me.

"What, Sammy?" I asked, already knowing who it was by the smell of his cologne which smelled amazing.

"Wow, I was just coming to greet my partner." His famous smirk played on his lips as my eyes narrowed on him.

"Sure you were."

"Hey, I was! I just wanted to say how happy I am to be working with such a wonderful soul." He spoke with pure sarcasm as his brown eyes filled with playfulness.

I glared at him, "Well, I really don't like my partner."

"Right back at you, anyway, how are we going to do this?" He asked, struggling to keep his books held up in the corner of his right arm.

I really don't know how he struggles so much with one broken hand.

"You mean, how are we going to hide this from our parents?" I sighed as I started to walk out of the classroom with Sammy trailing behind.

"Yeah," He stared ahead as we rounded the corner to my locker, "They will kill us if they found out we were partners."

"Oh trust me, I know." I opened my locker as we reached it, throwing my books inside before looking back at Sammy, "So where the hell do we go to write this essay then?"

"My house would be the best." He shrugged a shoulder before leaning onto the locker next to mine.

"Okay, and how about your parents?"

"They won't be home." He winked as a devilish grin played on the ends of his lips.

My cheeks heated up at his stupid joke, but I quickly looked away hoping he wouldn't notice.

"You make this sound terrible." I breathed out as I slammed my locker shut.

"Oh, come on. You're really telling me being in my bedroom is that bad?" He tilted his head slightly as he awaited my answer, and I just glared at him.

"Yes, yes I am." I stared at him blankly, "I feel so sorry for all the girls you've brought into your room."

"That's not what they tell me."

"Well then, they're lying." An innocent smile was displayed on my face before I turned on my feet to walk away.

"Wait!" Sammy called out, making me turn back around to him, "Here's my address and number for the essay. Meet after school, yeah?" He started to write on his notebook those certain things and handed me the notebook.

I was clearly amused at the fact of how much he struggled in that process of writing it down due to him already struggling to hold a book with his broken hand. His handwriting was very messy, and I tilted my head to the side as I tried reading what he wrote down in the notebook.

"I'm left-handed, okay?" He defended himself with a chuckle.

"Oh, I couldn't tell." I looked at him with shocked eyes, teasing him for the messy handwriting.

I ripped the piece of paper out of his notebook and then handed it back to him, placing it on top of his books.

He rolled his eyes at my response, "You're making fun of me now, but you'll be the one writing the essay." He smirked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

My expression fell before slowly backing up toward class, "Not happening."

I faced the other way and started my way to class.

"See you then, Sam." His laughter faded in the distance making me roll my eyes at him.

I really hate him.

About 20 minutes ago I arrived at Sammy's house which let me remind you, is absolutely huge. He and Ryan have the biggest houses I've ever seen. It makes me wonder if the whole house even gets lived in for half the year.

Like do you really need 5 bathrooms?

Sammy's room was a decent size, and it surprised me, to say the least. He had posters hanging up on one wall of cars, and bands he'd like. Of course, your basic guy things. The room was a dark gray, and he had very minimal furniture inside.

It was very neat and clean, and he had a desk across from his bed which was where he was sitting with a TV hanging right above.

His bed was huge, the blankets being so soft, with them being mixed shades of green and gray.

And comfy to say the least. I was currently lying on his bed with my laptop about to fall asleep with papers scattered around me

"I didn't invite you over to sleep." Sammy swiveled in his desk chair to face my direction.

"I wish you didn't invite me at all," I replied, laying on my stomach as I pressed my face against his cozy blankets, breathing in the scent of him.

Oh wait, that's weird, isn't it?

His cologne just smells so good.

He let a long sigh out before closing his laptop and grabbing his papers. He stood up with them in his hands and plopped down onto the bed next to me.

"We haven't even really started, all we did was open up our laptops, and I'm pretty sure we have to handwrite these stupid essays."

"Uh-huh, that was the first direction on the paper she gave us." I reached for the certain paper, throwing it in his direction.

He narrowed his eyes at me for a short moment before picking it up and reading along the lines.

"What are these questions?" He scrunched his eyebrows together with a short, breathy laugh. "What's your partner's home life like?" He glanced up at me as the paper was in his hands below.

"Well?" I raised an eyebrow, motioning around us, "Tell your fellow partner."

He rolled his eyes as he handed the paper back to me. He stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed, and flopped down on it fully with his back resting against the headboard, "Well, get your paper and pen out because this is going to be a long one."

My eyes wandered over to his newly positioned self, making me quickly sit up as I moved the laptop in front of me, "Hit me with your home life, Mr. Sandars, I'll type it instead." I sat up straight, awaiting his answer with my teasing tone.

"Home life is shit."

I raised my hands to type, but slowly stopped before looking back at him with a tilt of the head, "It's shit?"

"Having a luxury home doesn't always mean you have a luxury life." He gave me a small smile as his eyes faded away from mine to the TV playing random music in the background.

Luckily, we have the same taste in music.

I licked my lips, before typing down his words. Once again, I felt bad for Sammy, and it's annoying to do so. To feel bad for the person that treated you so poorly throughout the years.

"Mom and Dad are business owners, and I help out a lot around the house, you can put that so it doesn't sound like it's so depressing." He added, making me smile at his humor on lightening the mood.

"Noted." I brushed a strand behind my ear, continuing to type the bullet points for the essay. "So like, you say it's not a luxury life...what life would you describe it?"

"Shitty." He deeply chuckles once again, making me lock my eyes on his face as his eyes are elsewhere.

"Sammy, I can't put that word on paper." I joked, making him roll his eyes playfully.

"Fine, my parents just work a lot so I'm here to pick up the pieces. Making sure the yard looks nice, cooking-"

"Wait, you cook?"

He just looked at me blankly before leaning forward to grab my laptop from me, "Let me see this."

"No!" I quickly pulled it away from his grasp, holding the laptop like it was my baby, "I'll continue to type out my bullet points, your hand is broken anyway."

"I can still type!" He exclaimed, leaning his back against the headboard once more with a pout on his lips.

"So, that means you can still write too?" I raised my eyebrows at him in questioning referring back to when he wanted me to write his paper for him.

"Writing and typing are different, don't be silly, Sam."

I was about to respond before waving my hand in the air as I blinked a few times, "Hey! You're getting us off topic, continue on."

"You're right, someone got us off topic." He gave me an innocent smile before letting it fall with a sigh, "But yeah, my home life is just me. My parents are never home, but don't put that because I don't want pity." He played with his fingers as I took in his words.

I nodded slowly as I was typing what he said down, making sure not to add the last part. My face fell into a frown realizing he was probably just as lonely as I was every night.

"Done." I typed a few words with the clicking sounds from the keys, and looked up to Sammy with a smile.

"Good, now let me uno reverse that question onto you." He smirked with the dimple on his left cheek being more visible as he spoke.

I scoffed at his wording, what a nerd.

"Alright, my home life is just me and my parents. Pretty average home, you know...nothing like your fancy house." I chuckled lightly as I looked down onto the bed, playing with the blankets below me as I was in thought, "Um, yeah. We work hard for the home we have, well my parents do with the diner they own. I love my home life, actually." I smiled as my heart warmed at my family members.

Only one person was missing from it though...my brother.

I heard clicking noises from Sammy typing from his laptop and waited for him to be done not wanting to make eye contact.

I hate sharing personal details with him, it just was an odd feeling, to say the least. What if he uses this against me?

What if he thinks I'm a freak for the things I have going on in my life? Like, imagine being out of a year relationship after being cheated on multiple times, and not leaving until the second time of finding out.

Wait, I really hope that's not a question to be answered, but who knows with this teacher.

I just feel like she wants to be noisy in our personal lives, and honestly, is that even allowed?

"Hm, your home life seems nice. I wonder why my parents hate yours." Sammy ended his typing as he shut his laptop, placing it on his nightstand as his attention was brought back to me.

"I wondered the same thing." I sighed, closing my laptop too, and leaning back as my back hit the bed. The comfortable feeling of his bed engulfed me, and l closed my eyes as I took it in.

Damn, I want this bed.

"Maybe your parents hate mine because I'm so much smarter and better-looking than you." He was radiating with cockiness and I wanted to slap him right then and there.

I could sense it with my eyes closed.

"Sammy shut the hell up. We both know I'm way smarter and better looking than you." I spoke, keeping my eyes closed.

"Very funny, Sam. Keep dreaming that dream of yours." Sammy trailed on, leaning forward as the bed dipped in next to me, making me shoot my eyes open to see what he was doing, but all he did was give my head two small pats.

"There there, little one. No need to act this defeated over it." He grinned as his eyes squinted with amusement.

I scoffed, "Leave me alone." I swatted his hand away, making him let out a small chuckle.

"Hey, that's better than your slaps I get 24/7." He added, leaning back into his old position before getting out of bed.

"You're going to receive more than a slap if you keep annoying me," I say, sitting up as I watch him walk to his doorframe.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes playfully before waving his hand toward the doorframe, "Come on, let's get snacks so we can continue with this dumb essay."

"Snacks?! I thought you said you knew how to cook." A grin sprawled across my lips before I flung my legs over the bed to get out of it.

He narrowed his brown eyes onto me as I continued to smile, hoping he'd give in and give me some delicious food.

"Fine, but I'm not cooking a five-star meal."

"Deal."