So who will it be for this hopelessly unromantic girl? The brooding best friend? Or the young and unquestionably attractive substitute teacher?
They say every person is worth the potential heartbreak of relationships not working out. That's why peop...
"You got this, Wendy," I told myself, staring at my reflection in the mirror that fine Thursday morning. Although I usually visited the ladies' room during the study period, I rarely stayed there for more than five minutes. But that day was different. I needed the extra minutes to coach myself with some kind and encouraging words.
Melissa had already submitted our script to Mr. Scott, and my brain wouldn't let me rest as thousands of questions swam through my mind.
What if it's not good enough? What if I didn't do enough research about the Regency romance period? What if he thought the characters were flawed and under-developed? What if...
As I let a bunch of what-ifs cloud my mind, my unruly brown hair caught my eye for the first time.
Did I seriously neglect the whole hair situation for way too long? Was I too caught up in life to even realize my hair's been on vacation without me? As I'm casually playing with my locks, a sudden urge to pee hits me. Apparently, I chugged way too much orange juice this morning. Usually, I could hold it in like a champ, but the combo of excitement and anxiety is giving my bladder a hard time.
Geez!
I hurriedly locked myself in a bathroom stall, unzipped my pants, and let out a sigh of relief as I started to pee. Just as I was about to grab some tissues, the door slammed open, and in came three voices I recognized all too well.
"Did you seriously dream about him last night?" The first voice, irritatingly high-pitched, belonged to Claudia, Megan's cousin and BFF.
Megan's giggles filled the room. "Oh, totally. It was... hot. Ben's hands were all over my body."
Ben? I felt an immediate urge to gag. She was clearly talking about Mr. Scott. I peeked through the crack in the door to eavesdrop.
"He's fine, alright," Lauren commented, adjusting her bra or... boobs? She was pushing things up for a more revealing cleavage. Among them, she used to be the standout beauty, a younger Nina Dobrev. But she faded into Megan's blonde crew after dyeing her hair to match theirs.
"I'd do him in a heartbeat," Claudia squealed. Seriously, how did they tolerate her voice and those giggles? It's like she had a helium tank stuck in her throat.
"Dream on, girl," Megan laughed. "I've already got my eyes set on him."
Claudia asked about Mason, and Megan responded, "Mason doesn't have to know."
Lauren raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Scott's a nice person, and I don't think he'd date students."
I silently agreed with you there, Lauren!
Megan turned to her. "Wanna bet?" she challenged.
Claudia, always enthusiastic, tugged at her hair. "Oh! Let's make it more fun. Whoever gets to kiss Mr. Scott gets $200. If you—" She pointed at Megan, "—get to kiss him, you'd get a hundred bucks each from Lauren and me. And if Lauren or I get to kiss him—"
"I get it," Megan interrupted. "Deal."
Claudia laughed. "This is gonna be fun!"
I shook my head, still perched on the toilet. Their bet was a one-way ticket for Mr. Scott to lose his job and end up behind bars. He didn't deserve that. After being kind to me instead of ratting me out to my parents, Mr. Scott deserved respect. It wasn't his fault he was born good-looking with undeniable sex appeal.
Nope, not his fault at all.
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