“You don’t need to wait,” I replied.Tasha smiled and proffered a wink at me.“Stop that,” I replied.“Stop what?” she demurely responded, ...rossing her arms across her chest.“Don’t play games,” I shot back.“Who is playing games?” Tasha asked. “Certainly not me!”I chuckled.“You and I both know what’s going on,” I retorted.Tasha stood stoic about six feet from me, at the entry point to her cubicle. She bit down on her lower lip, once again, and then, this time, she hand-brushed her long wavy brown. After some short (and some other that not short) conversations, I felt really attracted to him. For me was certainly handsome, funny and very intelligent. He was one of the youngest teachers at school, but he had some of the most advanced grades at his subject. Sometimes I found myself writing his initials in notebook, books and my school bag or even in the school furniture. My friends started making jokes about it, because we shared lots of things in common and I think I was the one who he. More

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