miss thavel

Thank goodness her dad couldn’t see her face, the result of last night had dried into a shiny flaky layer of lacquer all around her mouth. Sarah quickly washed the last of the evidence away and returned downstairs. Just as she sat back down on her stool her father slid a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

Viktor then walked past them with a confident smirk. He was Noah’s next target. What concerned him, though, was that Reiss was nowhere to be found. He was down in the hypogeum during the intermission. Was he using the lavatory? Viktor was standing by the ref, waiting for his opponent to show. If Reiss didn’t show up, he would win by default. The crowds quickly started to murmur in confusion, wondering what the hold-up was. Eventually, the ref had to act.“Since Reiss has not appeared for his fight, he is declared—”