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Pens and High School Crushes"Hey, sorry, but do you have a spare pen?"
Neil spun towards Heather Madison. Frozen, he did not realize the golden-haired splendor had spoken to him and glanced around.
"Me?" he asked.
"Yeah, you. Do you have a pen I can borrow?" she chuckled, her voice lyrical even at a whisper.
Hastily, Neil nodded and fished through his backpack.
Please let me have a pen, he frantically thought. She's finally talking to me! Please let me have a pen!
Trembling slightly, Neil produced a pen and handed it to Heather, meekly avoiding eye contact. Her soft hands brushed his own as she grabbed it. Neil's heart lurched.
"Thanks," she smiled.
And class, for a time, whizzed by. Neil completely ignored his assignment, indifferent the test tubes of sodium and distilled water on his desk. Instead, he cherished the warm sensation of Heather's touch on his hand, and imagined it being other places.
If her hands feel this soft, I wonder what her lips feel like, he fantasized.
"Hey," her so
A moment with Dean and LunaDean Thomas admired the waves roaring and crashing against the beach. Since Harry, Hermione, and Ron's departure, staying at Bill and Fleur' house seemed dull. Aside from Bill, Luna Lovegood provide the only pleasant company. She stood a distance away, playfully twirling her wand about. Dean sighed. He miss his wand almost as much as he missed his family.
Luna spun to Dean, waving. She called out, "Do you think there are any cherbs flying around here?"
Dean tilted his head in confusion. "What's a cherb?"
"They're these small, fluffy white clouds that sneak up your nose and heighten your awareness," she smiled.
"Maybe," Dean shrugged.
Luna resumed playing about, making airborne trails of sparkling cherry blossoms dance around her. Dean watched her demonstration. Her blonde hair twirled with the dancing flowers as she spun about like a music box figure, bathed in sunlight. Dean felt his cheeks burn.
Then, a notion crossed him. Impulsively, he opened his mouth, as though to speak. Nothing
Principals hate gym teachers, tooSmart, young Evan watched Mr. Moore's protruding, hairy stomach jiggle beneath his tank top. Evan quickened his pace to the principal's office, nauseous from the sight. Seeing Principal Sanders did not worry, nor bother Evan; not nearly as much as Mr. Moore's spare tire did.
At least I'm out of class, Evan thought.
In the front office, Mr. Moore pointed to a chair. "Now sit there, you little runt, until Sanders comes to set you straight."
Evan obeyed, sniggering as he watched Mr. Moore waddle away.
Evan surveyed the front office, taking in all of the chocolate furniture and soulless, pale walls.
Not much happened. Some of the administrators and teachers chatted, sipped from their mugs, and nibbled on their sandwiches. The others sat behind their desks, typing away at keyboards and filling out paperwork. Every so often, someone raced by, carrying an armful of paper or folders. Nobody acknowledged Evan.
The phone rang constantly. A chubby lady behind her desk answered each call, constant
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More