Diary of an Unorthadox Pedophile

Dealing with 11th graders isn't as bad as I rembered even though none of them want to do any homework. I've been trying to teach them about the French Revolution. I say 'trying' becuase I've really lost my way with kids since I left Lisa Marie and Powell. Not to mention that I've been severly distracted by that angel who sits in my classroom for 45 minutes a day. Me being 32 creates this huge problem, so I try not to stare a whole lot.

I "accidentally" bumped into Cherokee Williams in the hall. Her hand brushed my leg, and since then I've felt like I might burst into flames. She acted pretty pissed off. I asked her if she was okay, and her inner lioness seemed to die down momentarily. God, her wounded puppy dog eyes made me want to kill all the bad people in this fucking world. But she didn't say anything. My Aphrodite shrugged and walked off to next period.

Something's wrong, and even though I don't know her, I want to help her.