As I stare at my blank piece of paper (that should have lots of writing on it by now), I notice that Jake is balancing his pencil on his nose. He also, obviously, doesn't have anything on his paper. I look behind me at my friend and she isn't even writing an essay like we're supposed to be doing. She's just scribbling random letters to make it look like she's doing something. The teacher is looking at some student's rough drafts to correct them. The class nerd is already in the library typing his. The class clown is doing a classic. He goes to write and he pushes hard on his led pencil so the tip breaks. Then he goes to the pencil sharpener in the front of the class and sharpens it slowly. Then when he's back at his seat, he repeats. A classic way to not do your work.
We're supposed to be writing about an emotion that someone or something makes me feel. What do I feel? I feel agitated. No. Can't do that. I feel uncomfortable, only because these chairs are metal and it's really cold. So that's a no. What does someone make me feel? Jake makes me feel happy, in love is another way to put it. I could do that emotion. Love. That's easy. All I have to do is hang out with Jake and I'll have an essay.
After writing class is over, Jake walks over to me as I'm putting my paper back in my binder.
"Did you get anything written down?" Jake asks.
"Nope. Did you?" I ask.
"No." Jake says.
"You should come over tonight and we can work on them together." I say and Jake smiles.
"Sounds good to me." I say.
\/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ AUTHOR'S NOTE!! \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/
(A/N: This was just another stupid chapter but I hope you liked it anyways. I'm working on chapter 11 and I hope you will like it. Bye!)