After somehow getting in with the popular clique in school, the Heathers, you were walking around the cafeteria doing a lunchtime poll. You couldn’t help but see a line boy at the back of the caf looking at you with some kind of an interest. Eventually you walked over to his table, red clipboard in your arms, and you greeted yourself to him. “Greetings and salutations. You a Heather?” Wilbur asked, cocking an eyebrow as he looked up at you.