No Substitutes for the Bigshots' Dream Girl Anymore!-Chapter 1645 Arnold Simmons Extra (11)

The little girl was eating a bit slowly, pressing one hand against the collar of her school uniform, and holding a noodle with the other, blowing on it several times before taking a bite.

Her cheeks puffed up like a squirrel.

And she looked similar when eating.

By this time, the shapes of students were already starting to appear on the roads—not only from the main school but also younger students from the nearby elementary school, each running joyfully, racing to be the first one into their school.

Several vocational school students walked by the entrance of the noodle shop, none of them in uniform.

The boy walking at the front noticed Hannah sitting by the entrance first, then tapped his companion next to him and pointed in Hannah’s direction.

Several of the boys looked over, their eyes lighting up as they nudged and jostled each other with snickers and laughs, ready to walk into the noodle shop.

"A good student from First Middle, should be easy to hit it off with, don’t fight over her with me!"

While saying this, the boy took out his phone.

Stepping across the threshold, just as he was about to approach, a long leg suddenly stretched out in front of him.

The boy instinctively wanted to curse, but looking down into Arnold Simmons’s cold, steady eyes, the words got stuck in his throat.

Those who hung around Willow Lane knew of Arnold to some extent, aware that he was notoriously ferocious in fights and seemingly fearless; previously, a small-time thug who didn’t like him had called on several toughs armed with sticks and bricks and still hadn’t been able to beat him.

The scene had been brutal, the likes of which even these habitually fighting boys had never seen.

Since then, no one dared to provoke Arnold anymore.

The group came in a hurry and left in a hurry.

So much so that Hannah hadn’t even snapped out of it when the space in front of the noodle shop cleared out again.

"Did you know those guys just now?"

Arnold shook his head, "Don’t know them."

Hannah took a sip of water, still grasping the bottle, feeling the coolness seeping into her palm, "They seemed really scared of you."

Arnold glanced at her, his expression teasing but he didn’t speak.

Hannah’s grip on the bottle tightened before she asked, "They say, you often get into fights with outsiders."

"Them? Which ’them’?"

"Just... them."

Hannah vaguely acknowledged.

Arnold leaned in closer, and even across the table, he exuded a strong sense of intrusion. He stared straight into the girl’s eyes, "I’ve noticed you, this new classmate, seem to really be quite interested in me. You’re not—really crushing on me, are you?"

He drew out his words, lazily as if feathers were brushing against one’s heart.

Looking at the face so close to hers, Hannah pursed her lips, her gaze falling on the boy’s slender hand flipping the bottle cap, and casually threw out, "If that’s what you want to think, then there’s nothing I can do."

Damn it, the "jerk’s catchphrase."

In the instant their eyes met, a nearly imperceptible twitch crossed Arnold’s brow, a momentary pause, then his smile widened.

He didn’t speak, just looked at the girl opposite him with a smile, then tilted his head to drink some ice water.

The oppressive heat in his chest was finally stifled a little.

"Eaten enough?" After a few seconds of calm, he turned his head back.

Hannah nodded.

Arnold screwed the bottle cap back on, tossed the empty bottle into the nearby trash can, picked up his bag from the side, and stood up to leave the noodle shop.

Hannah followed close behind him, the straps of her bag entangled. Trying to untie them under the scorching sun had her forehead breaking out in sweat.

It was only when the footsteps behind him stopped that Arnold turned back to look.