The principal cleared his throat with a pointed "ahem." Instantly, the students of Class 8 and Vivian Sheffield all looked toward the window.
The principal, the school director, and the top student with a score of 743 were standing outside.
The students, who had been listless just a moment before, perked up and sat straight. A student in the last row shielded his movements and slipped his phone into his desk drawer.
He had to go AFK in his game.
Beau Sullivan propped his head up with his hand and cursed under his breath, "Fuck. My penta-kill."
Mortimer Quincy watched as his wife slowly turned her head. She wasn't wearing her school uniform today; instead, she had on a sky-blue crewneck sweater over a collared shirt embroidered with two small, pale-yellow flowers.
Her fair, innocent face was captivating.
Holly Winslow met Mortimer Quincy's gaze and stuck her tongue out playfully. Mortimer lowered his head, the corner of his lip twitching into a small smile.
