Our Chuck? I think, licking my lips as I take a seat near the table. Glancing around the room, I realize I kind of like that idea, of being their Chuck. Weird, huh? I mean, they used to crack eggs down my shirt and dump jars of spiders on me, give me swirlies and lock me out of the dining room at Culinary Club. And now, these Student Council Boys feel like they could be my forever crew.
