My attempts at acting sexy in front of Corban had been bungling at best, humiliating at worst. There was my awkward attempt at lip-licking, which I was convinced had made me look deranged. The neck-drawing debacle. A few days ago, I’d dropped a book in the hallway outside his office and slowly bent down to pick it up. When I was doubled over, I’d tried to check to see if he was watching, lost my balance, and toppled right into Pete the janitor. The only good thing about that situation was the fact that Corban hadn’t been in his office to see it.
