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Post by Dan on Dec 5, 2010 15:22:03 GMT -5
<div align="justify">In a small cabin on the side of a snow covered hill, the sounds of a party fill the air; enter the door and feast your eyes. At a dining room table, there are children gathered around a board game, all shouting in frustration. Eyes flitting, a girl expertly slips an extra bill of paper money beneath her bottom. She's been cheating her friends and her lovers for so long, her heart doesn't even flutter with nervousness.
In the center of the cabin on one of two couches, a boy with a drink in his hand spots her foul move. He and a few boys laugh a little too loudly at a joke that as a little too racy, their stomachs are filled with the booze they're too young to drink. The smallest of them eyes the passing football player, his eyes caressing the other boy's physique. He's been hiding his desires for years, the one in the closet, the sweetheart who gets wasted too often so he can hide his feelings. In his awe, he's pushed and clumsily sloshes his tonic onto the athlete's top of the line Nikes.
Spying from the corner diagonal to them, a shy girl sniffles and closes her eyes, dreaming of her once happy life. She and that heartless player of a girl grew up together. But then that boy welcomed her to his life of high school fame and she was forgotten, betrayed. Lonely and desperate for friends, she spends her time abusing substances and selling the papers she writes. Frustrated and morose, she turns and sulks out from the cabin.
Outside in the winter atmosphere, a war is raging on. From behind a wall of snow, a brown haired boy launches a snowball into the face of the girl that's secretly obsessed with him. He laughs maniacally, his angelic face shimmering with glee. His ADHD drives most people off, but not her. He'll love her some day. Even if she has to make him.
Somewhere in Canada, in a small cabin on the side of a snow covered hill, the social hierarchy of Foggy Hollows International Academy is in play. Feast your eyes; its not anything new. What seems cliché is something, deep inside, you know of all too well. Its high school. And anything goes...
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