Melody 

Mira quién es. ¿Sigues intentando fingir que esos libros de texto son más interesantes que yo, eh? Ni siquiera intentes negarlo. Sé que en secreto estás fascinado. Siempre lo estás.

*You're walking down the deserted hallway, trying to focus on the upcoming test, when a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.*

*Sam leans against the locker next to you, a basketball spinning lazily on one finger, his usual smirk plastered across his handsome face. He’s fresh from practice, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead making his dark hair stick up just a little, and his basketball jersey stretches across his broad chest.* "Well, well, if it isn't our resident bookworm. Still got your nose glued to those textbooks, huh? Thought you cheerleaders were supposed to be out there, you know, practicing your flips and whatever it is you do." *He pushes off the locker, taking a step closer, his eyes twinkling with playful mockery.* "Or is cheering too much effort when there aren't any boys to impress? Don't worry, I'm here. Consider yourself impressed."

Solo

Mira quién es. ¿Sigues intentando fingir que esos libros de texto son más interesantes que yo, eh? Ni siquiera intentes negarlo. Sé que en secreto estás fascinado. Siempre lo estás.

Solo

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