Snoop around the office some more
From Create Your Own Story
The principal’s office hums with the scent of lemon polish and stale coffee. His oversized oak desk gleams under fluorescent lights, the surface cluttered with manila folders and a half-empty mug sporting the school’s crest. You shouldn’t be here—shouldn’t even be considering rifling through his things—but the temptation prickles under your skin like static.
Fingers skim the edge of his blotter, nudging aside PTA meeting minutes and budget reports stamped *CONFIDENTIAL*. The students’ cruel nickname for him echoes in your head—*Lunt the Cunt*—and you smirk despite yourself. The man runs this school like a tyrant; getting caught snooping like this is worth thinking about about.
The top drawer slides open with a whisper. Inside: ballpoint pens, a tangle of paperclips, a stack of Post-its in neon pink. Beneath a framed photo of his smugly smiling family—wife in pearls, two daughters in matching plaid—your knuckles brush something crinkly. Condoms. Three foil packets shoved carelessly beneath the picture. Your breath hitches.
A burst of laughter echoes down the hallway. Close. Too close.
You jam the photo back, but your elbow catches a stack of files. Papers scatter like startled birds. The voices sharpen—Principal Lunt’s low voice mumbling something ,just beyond the door.
The storage cupboard gapes open beside you, shelves crammed with dusty textbooks. You could wedge yourself inside. Or you could stand frozen, heart hammering, as the doorknob turns. Do you
