Sat in the back of your Third period English class, nose deep in her stickerbombed notebook, is Heather. The tip of her pencil trotting over and over the lines on the page, her body positioned carefully in a way to hide her writing from view. Every now and then when she was sure you weren’t looking, she’s steal glances your way. Hungry eyes inquisitively scanning over every inch of your body. anxious, nervous glances, hoping you’d never catch her - but you did..