No one knows about us yet. Maybe no one should know about us.
Certainly, my mother would have a heart attack with the appearance of a good Catholic she likes to maintain in front of others, even if only superficially. If my mother knew I was dating my little sister’s teacher – she would probably beat me like the bad old days. She would probably also have Veronika’s head on a platter. Or as I like to call her Ms. Santos. Six years ago she was also my teacher.
I recently met with her on a Friday night to go out to a Happy Hour and let the night take us where it may. I entered the familiar 11th grade Biology classroom and it never faltered that I entered that room as if it were a church. I am presently a Senior at college and still it feels like yesterday when I would enter this room in torment. The minute I took a seat at the front of the class I felt captured by Ms Santos curves in that deadly tight pencil skirt, the accompanying stiletto heels and button white shirt.