Ann liked to lurk on the bench behind the bell and watch the JV team run sprints while she officially graded midterms. Surreptitious, she knew. But if she had to focus her mental energy on their ridiculous, self-involved schlock, she felt that she deserved the reward of watching their young, lithe bodies disturb time and space. Ann eyed the walkway as she flipped open another abysmal essay. Good. No one yet, she thought. Then she glanced down at the blue book in her hands.
“You spy, Mrs. S.” And next to it, a little smiley face. Ann cringed.