Thirty-six • Cravings

•Benjamin•

Heather moved closer to me - If that was even possible because she's been glued to my side the entire afternoon. I wondered what that was about but I did not mind it all. What I need mind, however, was her nervous shifting and it didn't take much to realize that something was bothering her.

I looked over at the notes that she had written on her papers, the blue ink contrasting greatly with the black print. Unlike her usual neat scribbles, her writing right now was quick and tough to read.

I chuckled in amusement and Heather looked at me curiously. "What is it?" She asked.

"I won't judge if you tell me that Brigette writes your reports for you," I replied, making her brows furrow in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm having a hard time believing that this handwriting and the ones in your resports come from the same person."

She let out a soft gasp and hid her writing by pressing the documents to her chest. "Don't tease me. I write all my reports myself."

"Is that so?"

"Yes.