Chapter 23- And There Was The Tight Fitting Shirt

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Annalise Woods
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Second semester.

A time of starting over; wether it be grades, goals, friends , or new classes.

Grades- I'm doing pretty well in that aspect.
Goals- Gain my reputation back from being the Prince's local whore!
Friends- .... no question there.

And classes; probably my favorite class I will have ever taken in my seventeen years of life.

Targles.

I loved playing targles with the little kids when I was in Gregerson. I was quite good at them too, but when I got older it wasn't acceptable for kids my age with such different social class to play together.

I was a smart little girl; I purposely nailed screws into the pipe for footing to climb down and sneak out at night. I can vividly remember the dark alleyway to the fields, mystery water splashing on my shoes and damp grass beneath my feet as I took shot after shot into the goal; scoring nonstop.

When I arrived to the class, all the students were already there. I was subconsciously pulling the short shorts down that the school required us to wear, not trying to show so much thigh.

Do they actually want us to look like a strumpet?

I spotted Hazalen and waved her over not wanting to be alone in the crowd of people. She smiled at me and be-willingly walked over.

"At least we have the worst class ever made in the world together." She retorts with a scoff.

I laughed and tugged at my shorts again,"Believe it or not, but I like targles."

"How can you like targles? I never understand what is going on. Especially in racketball. The ball is going so fast it gives me a migraine." Hazalen complained. I just smiled at her, never playing racketball so I can't say anything.  The Gregerson kids couldn't afford rackets.

"What's up with these uniforms? I feel so... revealing." I whisper to her.

She laughed,"You get used to them. Our principal is a male after all, who would have known. Rumor has it he's a little bit of a perv." I cringed at her words.

I do not like Mr. Roswell.

"Speaking of guys... there's your Prince." She winked at me. The uniform the boys wore were very tight fitting, showing off their body in a way that would leave girls staring at them all day long.

Especially one Darius of Deltora.

It was if the shirt was made for him... now that I think about it, he probably did have somebody craft it for him. The shirt sculpted his already bulging biceps, his wide frame giving a pretty good idea of what his chest looked like underneath.

You could see his six pack from behind the shirt, it was as obvious as the color of the sky. Toned and refined, his body look as out of a museum; an image you could pay money for just to marvel at. The shirt was doing him much justice, but for me on the other hand...

I couldn't look away.

Yet I then spotted Isabelle in the mix, narrowing my eyes in displeasure. I decided not to entertain anything. She was honestly just reflecting the kind of person she was, and me a better person for not continuing it.

The coach called all of us to the benches and we huddled around him. Hazalen was rubbing her hands together, obviously nervous for what was to come.

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