“I know that you like him…” Her best friend whispered as they sat near a pond which was reflecting patterns of the scorching summer sun.
“The way you gaze at his hair as though you want to run your hands through it, and the way you watch the words that fall from his lips like you want to drink them forever!”
“Stop it, stop it; I don’t!”
“I don’t blame you; there are a lot of hot guys here.”
“There are not! You’ve got heatstroke if you think any of the others would be worth dating.”
“Besides… He’s our teacher.”