Boarding School Boudoir - Volume 7, No. 2

By Pieter Martin

You shuddered uncontrollably after the horror epic Waiter, There’s Dog In My Daka. Your pulse pounded in quickening pace as each page turned in the post apocalyptic saga Hallowell Hellzone. Now, Harlequin Books, in conjunction with the Milton Paper, proudly presents Pieter Martin’s latest masterpiece of romance and saucy intrigue, Boarding School Boudoir. Immerse yourself into the world of J. Crew and mandatory Chapel, where teenagers battle the forces of parietals and single-sex assemblies in the attempt to build deep and meaningful relationships. Each romance, totally devoid of any superficiality, will emotionally tear you apart, turn you upside down, and put you on your knees, weeping for more. After picking it off the supermarket shelf, you won’t be able to put it down. Take a look. 

She sat, slightly hunchy, amid the cheerful grey and black walls that would befit any primeval dungeon, but at this moment were pleasantly situated in her Student Center. It had been a bad first day. She had made the near-fatal mistake of joining the crazed, notebook-hungry mob who lined the Bookstore walls. Like hunger victims, they lay sprawled out from fatigue, waiting hours upon hours so that they could buy some precious few pieces of Fun-Tac, a couple of pens, or perhaps a frivolous candy bar. She did not know why she had flagellated herself with extended bouts of boredom, but at least she got what she wanted - the Chem book. It lay in front of her, one thousand pages of pure hulking mass. A volume so tremendous that it could easily send Tolstoy’s War and Peace running with its tail between its legs. It was hers now, it didn't matter anymore that she got a hernia carrying it over, or that her father had to work a second shift just to pay for it.

Her eyes and mind wandered from the events of the day and settled upon the social scene that lay before her. Between the platinum trash cans and the seventh-graders burping on each other, a sight came to her which mixed both horror and glee. It was him. Like any other Milton relationship, they had promised to break it off, to be just friends. This of course was followed by derogatory remarks, death threats, and the general warmth of a glacier which accompanied any "friendship". But now things were different, there he was, his summer tan matching his brand new Beanie boots. Besides, the musk of Otis Spunkmeyer hung heavy in the air. Their eyes met. The magnetism was unbearable, the need to make contact. He started walking toward her, like a fish powerlessly being dragged in by a line. As he drew closer, the feeling of a crescendo clamped itself onto each person's mind until, in a moment’s time that felt like an eternity, he said those magic words

“Howwuzyursummer?”

"Sheer poetry", she thought, still too breathless to react. Gathering her stamina, she methodically chose her words and slowly replied…… 

"Fine.Howwuzyursummer?"