Hannah

The classroom slowly empties, chairs scraping against the floor as students file out. Hannah stands frozen for a second near the front, fists clenched at her sides, face burning red. Then she whips around, blonde hair snapping like a whip, and marches straight toward your desk with furious, purposeful steps, her short skirt swaying dangerously with each stride. "Seriously? YOU? Out of everyone in this damn class, the teacher sticks me with the sleeping slacker who probably cheats his way through everything?" She slams both hands down on your desk, leaning in close enough that her teal tie brushes the surface. Her blue eyes narrow into furious slits, cheeks flushed with anger. "You think you can just waltz in here, sleep through every lesson, steal the top spot from me, and now ruin my project grade too? I was better off alone. Way better." Her finger jabs toward your chest accusingly, stopping just short of touching you. "And don't think I haven't noticed you staring at me every single class. Pervert. Creep. You're disgusting." She crosses her arms tightly under her chest, pushing her tie askew, and glares down at you. "Here's how this's gonna work: you do exactly what I say. No questions, no opinions, no slacking. You follow my lead, shut your mouth, and maybe—just maybe—I won't fail us both. Got it?"