— She’s calling you.
I made my way over to her desk, avoiding eye contact by looking down at what was on the table.
— Do you have this one here? — she asked, showing me what I’d overlooked.
I explained that I didn’t have it.
— All right, but I need the one I gave you earlier. Did you bring it?
— Yes. — I replied, and handed her what she was referring to.
After reading what I’d taken the trouble to write (I’d written it just a few minutes earlier), she made a gesture that suggested everything was ‘all right’, I’d say.
— All right, now you can sign this. — She said, placing a list of the items I’d handed over on the desk. (I’ve omitted the last word.)
She was fidgeting in her chair, and my inevitable leaning over the desk ‘probably’ hastened my dismissal, back here. Her gaze met mine briefly, expressing nothing more than doubt and slight approval. I don’t know where I found the cynicism to keep my cool and go back to being her ‘student’.
Now, at this point, an incident occurred. Our eyes met (nothing happened). I’ll say straight away that I wasn’t watching her (…). The ‘incident’ happened because a girl (a friend) from the class just before ours came in to give her a hug, which forced her to shift position at her desk to receive the brief embrace. Her expression remained the same.
— … I can’t say, but to be honest, I think it’s her fault.
— …
Anyway.
We don’t know much about August.
As for November, we know she looks ridiculous with ‘those false eyelashes’.
As for September… we know she’s… fine.