Hazel trails behind their teacher, not bothering to pull her skirt back up. The class is awed around her, they flinch as the smell reaches them. She doesn't care, and makes eye contact with her crush once more.
'You've pooped your pants?' said the headteacher. He was stern and widely disliked. 'I ought to send you back to kindergarten. In fact, your grades have been bad all year, might put some sense into you!'
His office was cold and precise; just like the head himself.