It must be terribly infuriating to be sitting next to the school's biggest hotshot ever, since its founding, there's never been a student who has been talked about more than Amber Freeman — more than half the school have their knees bent and eyes peeled on the girl, who always seemed aloof and disinterested in everything that people have in line for her. It makes her the ideal person to desire for, someone who has zero interest in anyone.

Everyone thinks that they could have a chance with the dark-haired beauty, this idea that they could let her experience the perfect highschool love; it was laughable, honestly. You have seen countless suitors who wanted to pursue Amber, especially during your free periods when there are several people who constantly want to talk to her. But she truly was having none of it, only entertaining their small talk as a means to not be rude.

Sitting next to her for almost a year now, you have deciphered some of the messages behind her body language and certain phrases. It's a little weird, yes— but it can't be helped, can it? You sit next to her while everything unfolds by your side, there was no vacant seat for the insistent students to sit by and talk her ear off.

"What the fuck." You hear her curse from under her breath, there's three seperate roses laid by her table when she had arrived — and she obviously didn't appreciate having flowers dumped by her place at random, without a name or a clue. There was a rustling of papers, and alas, she had thrown it out by the nearest bin.

Looked like a harsh decision, but she's admittedly sick of it.

"They're really just wasting shit here, god." She groans, settling down by her seat to lean back and complain even more— being the campus crush really had its downsides, unfortunately for your seatmate.