The school bell rang.

“Oh My God,” whispered a girl, who had just slided into her seat.
Ashley leaned closer to her, casually, to listen to what the girl was going to say.

“Did you see L.Joe this morning?” the random girl whispered, her voice cracking with excitement.

The girl’s friends squealed and leaned in closer.
So did Ashley.

“L.Joe has, like, this cloth band-aid over one eye. And it looks like he caught a cold or something. He’s like sneezing and coughing and his nose is all red and everything!” reported the girl.

The girl’s friends screamed louder and clutched at each other’s legs.

Ashley had an impulse to go to those girls and smack their heads together and stomp on their petite, little pink outfits. They were this close to getting Ashley into another temper tantrum.

“He look so hot with the band-aid on. And with the cold, he sounds so much like a gangster.”

Jealousy burned in Ashley’s heart. That was her guy that those impish, stupid girls were talking about!
A gasp went throughout the room. Ashley’s heart dropped. She gave Ann, who was sitting in the seat on her right, a confused glance. She looked up.
She died, spiritually.

“I cah-n’t fah-nd a shmeat, tchzer,” said the hot, L.Joe up front.

All the girls in the class leaned forward, fluttering their eyelashes and smiling, and daydreaming about L.Joe.

Ashley had to admit: he looked absolutely horrible. L.Joe’s hair wasn’t the fluffy, blond hair that he always swiped and tossed around. It wasn’t the normal soft hair that he spent looking at in the mirror, in the boys bathroom (Ashley knew this because she once peered in and spied on L.Joe performing this act...accidentally). It was wet, curling at the edges, and were spread apart; his bangs messily scattered across his forward and swirling into his luxurious, mocha colored eyes. It was so hot.
He didn’t have a perfectly layed out outfit either. His torn, navy blue jeans were streaked with mud and water (presumably rain from the outrageous storm the other day), and his once white shoes were brown: caked in a thick coat of slimy mud. His shirt was just a simple, white shirt, hanging loose from his skinny body. He looked gorgeous.

“Tehcheh, I cah-n’t fracking fah-nd a fah-king shmeat!”

The teacher leaned closer to the gangster and squinted her eyes. She was an abnormal person, thought Ashley, because she definitely was not falling for L.Joe’s charming face and his body.
“Stop pestering me, Byung Hyun,” said the teacher, sharply by calling L.Joe by his real, korean name. “Go find a seat.”

L.Joe groaned. “I cah-n’t frah-king fah-nd a smhitty shmeat, yah eedieet!”

Ann leaned over to Ashley and whispered, “He’s definetely

having a lot of trouble trying to speak with that annoying cold. How did he get it anyway?”
The memory of a boy jumping up and down in front of the window last night entered Ashley’s mind... but quickly left. She merely shrugged, while readjusting her seat- trying to get another, better look at L.Joe.

“I do not tolerate your jibberish in this class, boy,” said the teacher, her face bloating up more and more from anger. “What in the name of the heavens is a shmeat?”

L.Joe slammed his history book onto the floor below him and waved his hand around, yelling. “Theh ish nah shmeat! Unduhschand meh, you dahm old thahng! No fahlking shmeat!” He pointed an angry, but delicate and gorgeous looking finger, at a chair.

*Why is he pointing at a chair?* wondered Ashley.

“Shmeat!” roared L.Joe, flipping his hair out of his eyes which killed the first row of girls in the classroom.
The teacher got red in the face, when she noticed that she had just triggered the temper of THE gangster of the school. She backed away a few steps. She held up her wrinkly hands in front of her face, trying to protect herself from the sneering L.Joe.

“If you don’t take a seat at once, mister,” croaked the teacher, “I will make sure you have an expulsion from this neighborhood for at least a week... You ing...”

L.Joe took a massive step forward and reached down to the teacher. He grabbed the teacher’s chin and lifted it up so that he would be able to look at her straight in the eye. Several girls in the class whimpered in jealousy.

“You old beeatch, geht meh a frahking shmeat or I’ll mahke shuh you ahnd yah other annhaying tehcha frandzeh go downah!”

He cussed again and swiped at his nose, which seemed to be thoroughly and completely blocked.
The teacher looked like she was going to faint.

“You are speaking jibberish, you foolish young man!” she scorned. “Pull yourself together immediately! Or I'll make sure you that you're kicked out of this town for behaiving like this!”

Either from the fact that L.Joe’s lips were moments away from her face or that she was scared that L.Joe would rip her guts out, Ashley didn’t care. She wanted to be in that position with such strong yearning that she stood up to watch the scene better.

Just as Ashley thought that L.Joe was going to aim a punch at the teacher, she saw Ann stand up from beside of her. She took a big step forward and waved her hands around to gain the teacher’s, and unfortunately for Ashley, L.Joe’s attention as well.

“He’s trying to say that there is no seat in the classroom, and he’s commanding you to get him one and that he’ll murder you and your friends if you keep on treating him that way,” summarized Ann, who was nervously twiddling her hands with a piece of pink string.

The crowd turned around, with their mouths hanging open.
“You’re saying that L.Joe is pronouncing ‘seat’ as ‘shmeat’?” laughed the girl who was spazzing over how hot L.Joe looked with the band-aid over his eye just a few minutes ago. “Don’t be ridiculous. MY L.Joe darling isn’t that stupid.”

L.Joe glared at the girl and stuck up his middle finger.

The girl’s smile went from ear to ear as she gladly accepted L.Joe’s sign of his middle finger as ‘acknowledge of her presence.’ She squealed with happiness as L.Joe rolled his eyes in disgust at the girls.

“L.Joe!” screamed several girls at the front of the room. “Stick up the finger to me too! We’re your fans too!” They grabbed at his hand, which L.Joe forcefully pulled away and shoved into his denim pockets.

“Well then,” said the scared-out-of-her-wits teacher, but trying not to seem too scared, “Since...mmmm... Ashley! You are already standing, why don’t YOU give up your ‘shmeat’ to L.Joe.”

Ashley’s heart thumped inside her chest, as she heard the girls gasp in jealousy, same went for L.Joe.

“Uhmm, okay, I’ll move...”

*Anything for you L.Joe.* Just as Ashley were about to pick up all your belongings, she felt a hand fiercely grab at your arm. She looked up only to see L.Joe’s glorious face staring down at her. Her heart hurt seeing him so hurt and sick.

“No. I am nahhht taking youhr...” L.Joe took a breath and pronounced slowly. "Seat." L.Joe said, let go of her arm and walking towards the door. “Ugh, it doesn’t even matter. I have better things to do instead of staying in this ty classroom doing ty things.” He swiftly left the classroom after smirking around at the teacher.

Ashley and Ann looked at each other with confused, but smiling faces.
 

*OH MY GOSH! he touched me....* Ashley cheerfully thought. *In your faces, you girls*

In all your other classes, he was no where to be seen. *He must’ve went home.... good! he needs as much rest as he can get!* Ashley thought to herself .
Ann was staring at Ashley with a curious look, “Whatchya thinkin about Ash?”

“Oh... just.. nothing...”

“Mhhhm.. im so sure..”

Ashley, ignoring what Ann said, “Don’t you think it’s weird how L.Joe is so sick?”

“Awww, are you worried about him?” Ann said while nudging Ashley with her elbow.

“Ahem, I mean, after what happened last night.... remember, I swore I saw him! ….Maybe it was actually him....” Ashley excitedly announced. “But then... just... never mind... it probably wasn’t him...” Ashley second-guessed herself, afraid of what Ann’s reply would be. Ashley didn’t want Ann thinking that she was so in love with L.Joe....