ALASTAIR’S POV
When it struck three in the afternoon, Maxwell High’s campus was immediately consumed by the thundering noise of marching bands, yells, and the occasional shrill voices of the girls who were calling out names from the varsity teams and cheering squads. Almost immediately, the rest of us people who were not interested in grinding along with the tens of hundreds — if not thousands — of filthy bodies covered in sweat were forced to live with a migraine and a sudden thirst for a school shooting.
God, I wish some quiet kid would just snap in the middle of all of this teenage mutant ninja turtle chaos. I’ll bet Nathan’s bottom dollar this place would clear up in no time.
It was already thirty minutes into the Tristate School Competition or something when I was finally finished
