Perfect on Paper

by Sophie Gonzales

“He’s a snack. He looks like Bill Skarsgård!”

“If there’s one thing guys love, it’s an excuse to avoid accountability for their own role in causing the behavior they don’t like,”

Mr. Elliot burst in a minute after we had things set up, looking frazzled as usual, carrying a half-eaten rye sandwich. “Thank you, ladies,” he said, shuffling through his messenger bag with a free hand. “I got held up by a crazed fan. I told him I didn’t have time for autographs, but he started raving that I was his ‘teacher’ and I needed to ‘sign his pass’ so he could ‘access the music room.’ The demands of fame, am I right?” Mr. Elliot was one of the youngest teachers in the school. Everything about him screamed “approachable,” from his twinkling eyes, to his deep dimples, and his soft, rounded edges. He had dark brown skin, a pigeon-toed gait, and a chubby baby face that probably got him carded about as often as the seniors. Also, not to be dramatic, but I would have killed for him.

Please note, I am not your father, and I don’t love you, so appealing to my humanity is a waste of time you could be spending on your homework.

Please help, mrs_shawnmendes2020@gmail.com Locker 89 <locker89@gmail.com> 7:32 p.m. (0 min ago) to Mrs. Shawn Mendes Hi Mrs. Shawn Mendes!

“Finn has a website?” “Yeah,” Brougham said, eyes on his phone while he wrote to Finn. “It’s something like ‘Ryan Chad Truthers dot com,’ I think?”