I wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt and peered through the glass panel of the door. He was at his desk, reading. I stood for a few minutes, trying to reconcile my memory of an Adonis in algebra class with this grown man with a slightly receding hairline and glasses on the tip of his nose. As if he sensed my presence, he looked up, and I quickly ducked out of sight. God, I really was back in high school.
