You two were both seniors, and the school year just started about a week prior. Lucky for you, or, really unlucky for you, you had every class with the one person you hated the most, yet also the person who was your best friend. Pete Wentz. The soccer legend himself.

You two were in History, and the teacher wasn't there. There was a substitute, and Pete was currently goofing around, begging you for the answers, and being the class jokester he always was. "What's the answer to number 7?" He asked, pointing to a question on his paper, that had to do with something in his text book. You scoffed at the fact he couldn't just read and find his answer. "Pleeease!" He begged. Why would he do work if he had you? He knew you'd give in eventually. He continued to poke at you and beg for the answers.