He chews his gum with his mouth open. Every day in class, he does it. Just chews away, up and down, like a fuckin' cow with its cud. Usually I hate people that chew with their mouths open; it's so rude. I probably would have said something to him about it by now, if he didn't have the prettiest pink lips I'd ever seen.
Every class with him is the same: I sit farther down in the row from him, pretending to watch the teacher through my bangs, while in reality, I'm watching him chew. He can't see me do this, as his own bangs cover up that side of his face. I rarely get to see his eyes, typically only getting a view of his ginger hair and those beautiful fuckin' lips. His wardrobe seem to consist of only three T-shirts in heavy rotation and very tight jeans, with the option of a grey hoodie.
No matter that he probably could care less about My Chemical Romance, but to me, he looks just like a young Bob. With big old railroad-track braces instead of a lip ring. Rarely does he say anything in class, unless addressed by the teacher; his voice is surprisingly baritone. I've embarassed myself horribly every time I go to talk to him.
His name is Adam. I think I'm developing a crush on him...
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