Taylor Swift Imagines | gxg only!

hi guys. im so sorry about my like 3 month disappearance.. but im feeding you guys so shhh! this one's a long one so buckle up partners and i hope you enjoy i missed you all ! ❤️😖

i don't exactly know what this classifies as. academic rivalry/enemies to lovers sort of vibe but idk! whatever! :D

You hate the hallways. They're always too busy and crowded and noisy and they smell funky and there's people making out everywhere. Geez, can't they get a room? And it's literally 8 in the morning. You've got to get to your first period, don't they too? Plus, lugging around your heavy backpack and carrying like 3 history books in your arms while trying to put in your earbuds for some peace is not a simple task. But you should really watch where you're going, because the door almost slammed in your face as you were walking into class. Luckily someone held it open for you, their arm resting high above your head. That's so nice, you think, and maybe you'll finally be able to have some sort of social interaction that'll cheer you up. You turn to thank them gratefully before seeing who it is, your smile immediately changing to an expression of visible irritation.

"Seriously? Why did it have to be you of all people..." you mumble. The taller girl standing in front of you is smug, her annoying face gloating at the fact she "saved you," as she'll probably say. She nudges the door slightly to prop it open a bit more, holding it open with her shoulder now. She crosses her arms and stares at you.

"No 'thank you'? That's kinda rude. I know you're abnormal but isn't that common sense?" The girl tilts her head, making her curly blonde hair fall perfectly into place; despite one side now looking a bit longer than the other. She twirls the end of it with her finger and raises an eyebrow, "What? Are you mute now?"

While she waits for your response, she grabs the book on the top of your stack and reads the title out, "'For Dummies, The History of-"

You yank the book back, "None of your business."

Taylor sighs dramatically. "What, I can't even see what you're reading? And you still haven't said thank you."

"Thanks," you answer coldly.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you," she taunts, but it's obvious she won't leave you alone till you comply.

"I said, thank you!"

"Thank who?" God, she's annoying...

Gritting your teeth, you sigh, "Thank you, Taylor."

"Ohhh, you're welcome. You owe me one now," Taylor states bluntly before walking into the class. You stand there for a second, wondering if she's serious or not. She turns her head to stare you down, "You coming in or not?"

"I'm coming..." you mumble, and take your usual seat by the front. Taylor sits behind you, and you're trying to focus on the lecture your teacher is giving. Mr. Perfekly is already hard enough to understand as is, and you swear he's too old to be teaching here. Half the kids are always dozing off while he takes forever trying to remember which page he's supposed to talk about. The other half are probably shit-talking his usual suspenders-and-button-shirt combo. Normally you'd feel bad for an old man like him, but not when he assigns homework like there's no tomorrow. Well... maybe for him.

Taylor sure isn't helping you focus. The sweetness of her perfume makes you sick, and the tapping of her foot on the back of your chair. You can hear all the little movements she's making, her flipping the page, her dropping a pencil—her picking up that pencil. Why is she so noisy? It feels like the only thing you can focus on is her, no matter what. It's frustrating, and it doesn't help that she has a playful nature.

As you try to jot down as many notes as you can, she's leaning over her desk to get closer to yours. Despite being a generally good student, Taylor has a low attention span and gets bored easily. She taps your back repeatedly with her finger, trying to get you to entertain her needs. When you don't react she strokes down your spine, making you jolt. You know what she wants though, and you refuse to give in and turn around. She sighs, and you can just picture her face; she's definitely pouting. I mean, why do you care though? Good; she should learn she doesn't get everything she wants. And what is she, a pouting toddler?