Her Yellow/Golden eyes follow my every move, burning right through my mind. She knows what she wants. And she’ll do whatever it takes to get it. One...look at each other, and it begins. We go to my room, and lie on my bed. “Do you like this shirt?” she asks me. Smiling, I tell her no, because Cathy spilt that bleach chemical on it when we were screwing around with our weapons at the clubhouse. “Good…..” she smiles. She tears into me with a kiss, ripping my shirt to shreds in the process. I moan. Wilson was so thoughtful and caring."You cooked for me?" She smiled at him."Well, my mother was an alcoholic, so I pretty much grew up on my own," he admitted, embarassed.Scarlet said nothing and just hugged him, resting her head on his muscular chest. Mr. Wilson offered to give her some time on her own, but she insisted he stay. They finished the pancakes; he then drove back to school to pick up his work and to give the assistant principal some bullshit excuse as to why he blew off the end of. More

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