Zara’s legs felt weak as she walked closer to Mr. Ramirez, and her heart was beating fast. She did not know why, but something about this moment felt entirely unnatural.
Mr. Ramirez was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie hung loose, the top button of his shirt undone. He looked calm, almost relaxed, like he had all the time in the world to watch her stand there trembling in her school uniform.
“Closer,” he said quietly.
Zara took two hesitant steps forward and stopped about three feet away. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. She kept her eyes on the floor, too afraid to meet his gaze.
He tilted his head slightly, studying her. His eyes moved slowly over her half-unbuttoned shirt, the navy skirt, the way her hand
