It’s been three years since I confessed my love to my English teacher–but my heart still did somersaults today when I saw him at work.
He was horrified by my letter back then, just like he was shocked to see me today. Well hey–I didn’t invite him to the library! He was on my turf. The big jerk.
And I’d give anything to stay far, far away from that knowing gaze, but his class will be coming here all semester. We’ll be in close quarters.
Yep, I’m going to die of humiliation every day.
Because even though he turned me down so harshly, even though I’m a grown woman now, I still want him. I still dream about him in bed each night.
Mr Finch can never know how I feel.
And he needs to stop staring at me like that.