Ashley Fuller giggled. Mr. Spencer was an old, clueless teacher--and the students in his sixth-grade class took full advantage of it. Today, for example, he thought nothing of all six girls going to the bathroom at the exact same time. It made what the girls were doing that much easier.
It's not like we're doing anything wrong, she rationalized. We just want to experiment with makeup. Our parents won't let us, so we just need to take matters into our own hands.
The laughing girls didn't hear the high heels clicking down the hall, coming closer...
As Ashley leaned closer to the mirror to apply eyeshadow, she heard a throat clear behind her. All six turned, and Ashley blushed scarlet.
Her mom had caught them.
"Girls, does Mr. Spencer know you're here doing this?"
Ashley gulped. "No, Mom."
Mrs. Fuller's eyebrows drew together in a frown. "I suggest you all get back to class now. Ashley, go up to your flute lesson. You're late."
All six girls filed meekly out the dorr. Ashley had never been more humiliated in her life.
Maybe sneaking out of class to mess around with makeup wasn't the brightest idea we've had...