“You know, we could go to hell for this.” I said as Amanda opened the door of the little chapel. She looked back at me and smiled. She led me thro...gh the chapel, past the statue of Jesus, to a small room in the front of building. She opened the door, the moon light was shining through the small window and gave the room a romantic glow. We walked to the center of the room and Amanda turned toward me and stepped back. Her fingers moved to her outfit, the same outfit she had worn all day. She. She had spotted more than a few of them checking her out as she walked from one class to another. In history, Mr. Fields always seemed to be staring at her legs. On the days she wore a skirt he rarely left his desk seat. Her desk was in front of the room and every time she crossed her legs his eyes fell on her in an attempt to look up her skirt. She ruled him out as he was a coach and his conversations never went beyond sports. Then there was Mr. Lance, her English teacher. They got along great. More

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