Ariel Beckham.
I take a deep breath before stepping into the classroom. Yesterday was one of the best nights of my life. Why? Because I rode the hottest man in the whole of Southeast city until I felt him burst inside of me. But today feels like a different beast altogether—nerve-wracking is the word. My heart throbs as I look up at the sign above the door: Class A. I remind myself; I’m not scared. I can do this. This is my dream.
I inhale, pushing the door open. The first thing I notice is the buzz of lively conversation. Students are standing around, chatting in a few groups. As soon as I walk in, a few pairs of eyes glance at my way before returning to their conversations. Warm sunlight fills the room, casting beams across the wooden desks and walls. Where am I supposed to sit?
“Are
