What's goes on afterschool, stays afterschool.
I'm sitting on my desk, a ruler in my hand, legs crossed. Jason is looking over at me, a bit nervous. "Misses, am I in trouble?" he asks, looking up at me. "Yes, you've been a bad boy," I reply with a smirk. I get of the desk, and walk over to where he's sitting. "Jason, how old are you?" I ask, poking him in the chest with the ruler. "I've just turned eighteen misses," he answers. "Do...Read On