Imajinative

Max sat in the class gazing at Clare Jones. He watched as she leaned over to her friend Julie and passed her a note. Her small school blouse and shorter-than-normal skirt defined her curvaceous body. Julie saw Max watching her friend. She giggled and motioned to Clare to look behind her. Clare turned and looked back at Max. Max was caught out. His elbow slipped on the desk and dislodged his small tin pencil box. It crashed to the floor making a loud noise. The entire class turned and laughed at Max. He felt the heat of a crimson blush as a rush of prickles ran up his back from embarrassment. He glanced back at Clare and Julie who were still looking at him, giggling. A quiet fury surged inside him. He hated it when people laughed at him. It was worse when Clare did though. She seemed to know he liked her. Humiliated, Max slumped in his chair. He lowered his gaze to his desk. Surely no more ridicule would eventuate if he lay low for the rest of the lesson.
‘Max Faulkner!’ shouted t...