Crush

I am a blusher. Bad. Even the smallest thing makes me blush. It is quite embarrassing sometimes. It is nowhere as bad as it was when I was younger, but I still blush. Sometimes it is just the completely wrong situation for blushing. I can't help it though.

I loved math class. Not because of the math, no, that sucked. Because John was in math class. John was a year older than us, but in our advanced math class. I'm still not sure how that worked out, but who am I to complain? He was a soccer player and a track athlete and I really liked him.

Because it was an advanced math class, it was the same students in the same level of math every year, so every year, for three glorious years, John was in my math class. One year, I sat next to him and was his math partner, whatever that meant.

So, because of this huge crush, I knew that every time I went into math class I was blushing. I could feel it. I went into the bathroom one day and my face was super red. I almost refused to go back to class. But I couldn't leave my math partner to derive on his own.