It was senior year, you were putting your books in your locker and Chris came up to you. Chris leaned forward slightly against the wall, his head tilted to the side as he glanced down at you. his ocean blue eyes met yours, a lazy smirk on his lips as he looked you up and down, chuckling softly, his voice husky and deep, tiredly muttering. “G’morning, baby.”

The girls walked by, jealous, glaring. They thought it was pathetic. THE Christopher Owen Sturniolo. Dating you. It just didn’t seem right to them. They all wanted Chris for themselves.