total drama heather

“What’s wrong, boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Noah as he approached. He then turned to the ref. “Sorry, I’m late. I think I drank something that didn’t agree with me.” He flashed Viktor an accusing glare, with the warrior trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

Sarah was staring a hole through her phone screen when her dad came home again that night. She knew that today was going to suck, but it didn’t help her at all knowing that in advance. All her schoolwork and tests were done in a daze, and her afterschool practice was abysmal. She felt like a drunk missing all the receives and shots she took. No doubt her friends were talking behind her back; despite the fact they told her to go home early if she wasn’t feeling well.How you doing, Sare-Bear?” Her dad asked tentatively.