James sat in the empty classroom watching the cheerleaders practice through the scope of his dad's Barrett M82.

"Mmm," he groaned as he scanned a pyramid of green miniskirts and bared midriffs.

She, the one he wanted, Amy Li, was at the top. James gritted his teeth, his face burning, his groin ached, as the crosshair passed the brown curves of her thighs. He passed between her melons, licking his lips. If he couldn't have them nobody was going to. He lined the reticle between her eyes and curled around the trigger.

BANG! A cloud of blood showered the cheerleaders.