You'd seen Clapton a few times skating around the school, giving almost everyone, but you, a high five. It had slightly bothered you, but you and him had never interacted, so it was somewhat adequate.

You slouched in your chair, unwanting to listen to the teachers voice that was not far from sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

Your head turned to the door as footsteps were heard, hoping someone tolerable would save you from the dreadful boredom. But your eyes lit up as they laid on Clapton. He gazed across the classroom, seemingly searching for a place to sit, before slotting himself beside you.

He shared the mutual aggitance towards the teachers voice and turned to you. "God, she sounds like an out-of-tune singer." he kids, showing you his teeth as a smile curled his lips.