[indent][indent][indent][code]SUBJECT: ILOVEYOU[/code][/indent][/indent][/indent][indent][code]► ATTACHMENTS: LOVE-LETTER-FOR-YOU.TXT.vbs[/code][/indent] [code]kindly check the attached LOVELETTER coming from me. rem barok -loveletter(vbe) rem by: ჰჩჩႣჩ / ჰჩჩႣჩ / ჰჩჩႣჩ / ჰჩჩႣჩ[/code] [indent][sub][color=85afd1][h3]r y a n m a y e z[/h3][/color][/sub][/indent] The wood seat of Ryan’s desk was cold against her bare, lower thighs and sent a small silent chill through her spine. In quiet nervousness, after having forgotten about this habitual sensation over Summer Vacation, Ryan brushed thin fingers through her dark bangs, straightening their positioning in a vain attempt to offset the uncomfortable feeling. Her finger-work was a subtle enough gesture — feminine in its wiles like the skirt causing her discomfort. Businesswomen were allowed to wear pants to work. Why were pants not part of the SCPC’s school uniform for female students? It was stupid, like the school was trying to uphold some outdated tradition. [i]This is like The - fucking - Lottery. I swear, and super fucking sexist.[/i] Ryan’s eyes shifted, casually glancing at the classroom door. There was an ardent look of annoyance towards the passé fashion as her eyes directed themselves through the front of the room. Ryan was seated in the front by the writing board. There was no way she was going to let some tall jock get in the way of her view, and who even cared if she looked pretentious? [i]Okay,[/i] maybe she did care, but it was [i]Calculus AB.[/i] There was no looking pretentious in Calculus AB, there was only looking [i]not stupid[/i]… right? Ryan’s arm shifted, cloth from her jacket nestled as her arm bent and rested her elbow on the top of her desk. Her palm flattened and curved around her relaxed jaw. Boredom glazed over her face as she tried to ignore any pessimism towards the future of the semester. Her other hand fidgeted with the texture of her skirt. [i]At least, I’m not the last one to class…[/i] her eyes rolled downward to her skirt and traced the pattern as she tuned out the conversations that walked into the classroom. [color=ebd4c7]“Good morning, Ryan.”[/color] The low, apathetic sound of a boy still trying to find vocal control over his voice shuffled into the desk next to Ryan. Her head shifted and turned, eyes lagging in movement. She knew that voice all too well. It was none other than, John Lee, her academic arch nemesis — or rival, whatever. He was harmless. He really was. Except, sometimes, he would smell weird or stale, as if he was wearing old laundry. It was probably his blazer, and Ryan was not one to not complain about it, especially if he made a better grade than her on an exam. Her hand and arm rested, and she straightened her back slightly, [color=85afd1]“Hi, Johnny,”[/color] a small sarcastic sigh wrapped around his name as it pressed from her lips that could not help but tilt upwards. Johnny had already began pulling school supplies from his backpack, a notebook, a mechanical pencil, which he had managed to salvage since the Middle School. The eraser was only a little blemished because he used a white Staedtler Mars Plastic Eraser, which are latex-free, since latex irritated his hands after sometime, supposedly. Ryan thought it was utterly stupid that he was always so overly specific with which brand of eraser he used. It really overly exemplified his virginity and just super gross to even think ab— For the second time this morning, Brandon interrupted Ryan’s thoughts. Not all of the male students had filled out, yet (Johnny was poster child proof), but even if they had, Ryan was pretty set on the pretty boy’s facial features and his wavy hair, [color=ebd4c7]“I’m glad we’re in the same class, considering we took Pre-Cal together,”[/color] Johnny rattled through the scene. His tan hand plucked a graphing calculator from his bag before his movements paused, caught by Ryan’s dwindling attention. She was normally fairly dismissive with him, but her facial expression was definitely off-kilter, [color=ebd4c7]“What?”[/color] his head tilted downwards as his brown, narrow eyes studied her through his thick, square lens. His fingers shifted over the buttons of his calculator, feeling the rounded corners of the buttons, [color=ebd4c7]“Ryan?”[/color] The boy’s voice flattened, eyelids drooping. [color=85afd1]“Oh…”[/color] Ryan quickly caste her eyes elsewhere, away from her schoolgirl crush, and more towards something less apparent, [color=85afd1]“Yeah,”[/color] she raised her eyebrows apathetically and then lowering them as she remembered who was talking to her. [i]Johnny was so…[/i] No, she could not think like that... He was a good distraction from her stupid crush, right? He would totally make sure she paid more attention to the teacher than the stupid, super hot rugby player that was — [i]Oh. My. Fucking. God. Is he actually sitting right behind me?[/i] A sensation ran through her spine, again, but it was a different sensation this time. Ryan was not sure if she preferred this sensation to the one her cold desk had given her. At least, she had more control over one of them. [color=ebd4c7]“I’m definitely making a better grade than you this semester,”[/color] Johnny retorted and drew his attention to his calculator. He had games he could play, and Ryan was being dumb, again. She normally would have jumped at his insult, and Johnny knew it, too. However, the girl simply folded both of her arms over her desktop and leaned her head into them. [i]Stupid tall jock,[/i] Ryan groaned inside her head.