Someday My Prince Will Come (epic love story) Read Free Page A

rest of my life. Besides, I liked cooking.
     
    The class was pretty full, seeing as how I got in late. I searched the room for an open seat. No. No. Way. This probably sounds so very cliché, but I swear the only spot open was right next to the ominous Freddie. I seriously almost walked out of the classroom right then and there.
     
    Freddie looked up and we made eye contact. I wanted to give him the most evil look I could possibly muster. Curse him for making my life complicated! Why did he
     
    "Miss Weathers?" My professor, Mrs. McCabe said calmly, breaking into my thoughts. "Please take a seat. The class is about to begin."
     
    I nodded solemnly and walked over to my doom. Freddie wasn't looking at me, thank God, and I put my stuff down under the seat. All I could feel was this incredible heat coming directly from his body. It was definitely impossible to forget about him right now
     
    I snapped myself out of thinking about him and chastised myself for doing it. 'Shape up, Arie.' I thought to myself bitterly. 'He's just a random guy that you met last night. It's not like he feels the same way.' Then came the pain. It was subtle. Very small and innocent at first, but it grew larger as I realized the truth. He wouldn't feel the same way, ever. And that sickened me more than I would have liked it to. I was staring at my professor and rubbing my head, trying to pay attention, when suddenly I felt someone bump my elbow. I looked down and saw Freddie's arm next to mine.
     
    The exhilaration of my body was too immense to describe, and I literally had to grab my arm to keep it from exploding! Freddie bumped me again, and I inwardly cursed him for being so drop dead gorgeous.
     
    "Hey!" I heard him whisper. "Arianne."
     
    Could it be!? Casually, I looked at his face and saw him smiling at me. The light seemed to bring out his eyes all the more than it had in the dimly lit hallway. I found myself smiling at him. It seemed to be a reaction to his face. I couldn't help but smile.
     
    "Yes?" I whispered back, still smiling.
     
    "Hey." He casually said, then grinned and leaned back in his chair, still making eye contact with me.
     
    I felt my cheeks bloom and I looked down at my notebook. All that was there was, well, nothing was there. I then remembered that I needed to focus. I looked back at Freddie once more, who was still smiling broadly at me, flushed all the more, and then turned my attention back toward Mrs. McCabe; as best I could, under these circumstances. However, about five seconds later:
     
    "Arianne."
     
    This time, I turned my head to him a little bit more sharply and whispered, "What?" Again, I couldn't help but smile. He was smiling too, and I watched his luscious lips as they parted to speak.
     
    "What's your next class?"
     
    I found myself rolling my eyes and answered, "Economics. Pay attention, Freddie." For a student who just entered mid-semester, he had a lot to catch up on. I looked back to my professor, but this time, fully knew what to expect.
     
    "Arianne."
     
    I smiled to myself, but didn't look at him. I really DID need to pay attention. I then felt Freddie's arm bump my elbow again, but this time he slid his notebook over to me. It said (in beautiful cursive, I must add) 'What's after that?'
     
    I accidentally giggled and brought Mrs. McCabe's attention, on me. Crap.
     
    "Silence please." She said to no-one in particular. Oh whatever, she was staring right at me. I mouthed 'sorry' to her, then scooted Freddie's notebook away from me. This was getting to be a little bit risky. I promised my uncle when he brought me here, that I would get good grades in every class. If I didn't, he would stop paying for my bills; phone and car. If I didn't pay attention soon, then I knew there would be less social life then I already had. Focus, Arie. Focus.
     
    Throughout the rest of the class, Freddie tried writing notes to me three more times, kicking me under the table, whispering my name repeatedly, and