❝ 𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔,
𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒔. ❞
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*DISCONTINUED*
why leave ideas in the open air when I can actually write about them?
basically drabbles about my imaginary world, and on occasion, my favorite f...
The first period bell had just rang, and for me, that meant the start of AP US History.
As he did every day, our teacher whisked his way in late, with Dunkin coffee in his hand and not a care in the world. Mr. Callahan was one of those teachers that was looking 40 in the eye, but he was as boring as a 65-year old teacher waiting on retirement.
I watched as he put down his large coffee, and sighed loudly. We were the worst of all his classes - and he wasn't afraid to say so. Our grades were the lowest of everyone's, and that had everything to do with our lack of work.
As if the procrastination storm wasn't bad enough, Callahan had a category 5 hurricane on his hands, and it had a name: Trea Turner.
By day, Trea stole bases on the varsity baseball team; by night, he stole girls' virginity. (Legend has it he's up to 9 girls already. Legend, as in the biggest jock in school, Nolan Arenado.)
