Nicole Prescovia and Noreen Pune entered Mr. Syntars classroom and definitely looked the part of outcasts. As the heads of the Muslim Student Association, and considering the two of them alone made up a large portion of the Muslim Student Association, they were naturally isolated from the rest of the class, at least as much as the Flag Squad members were, if not more.
They mixed in as best they could it seemed, wearing blue jeans and cardigans today, just like any other teenager would've, but combined that with the black hijab or headscarves which only framed their makeup less faces. From what Anna had said, the two of them looked even more beautiful in the locker room, when the headscarves would come off and thick black hair would fall about their bare shoulders, framing their beautifully exotic faces in a way that no piece of clothing ever could.
And apparently both had quite exceptional bodies as well.
He could see the potential as the two young Muslim ladies, eyes seemingly perpetually aimed away from his eyes but still trying to indirectly look at his face but still smiled at him politely. "Hello Mr. Syntar," they both said, almost in synchronization as their dark eyes darted about curiously, as if they were sensing something was amiss already as they walked up to the front of his desk.
"We have the article for review Mr. Syntar," Nicole stated with a tight lipped smile, holding the apparent article in a folder in her hand. "Just like you asked."
They mixed in as best they could it seemed, wearing blue jeans and cardigans today, just like any other teenager would've, but combined that with the black hijab or headscarves which only framed their makeup less faces. From what Anna had said, the two of them looked even more beautiful in the locker room, when the headscarves would come off and thick black hair would fall about their bare shoulders, framing their beautifully exotic faces in a way that no piece of clothing ever could.
And apparently both had quite exceptional bodies as well.
He could see the potential as the two young Muslim ladies, eyes seemingly perpetually aimed away from his eyes but still trying to indirectly look at his face but still smiled at him politely. "Hello Mr. Syntar," they both said, almost in synchronization as their dark eyes darted about curiously, as if they were sensing something was amiss already as they walked up to the front of his desk.
"We have the article for review Mr. Syntar," Nicole stated with a tight lipped smile, holding the apparent article in a folder in her hand. "Just like you asked."