ACIR HILLS
Zaijian’s face was void of any emotions.
His stoic expression and taut features made me flabbergasted. As to how he seemed completely unfazed by what he witnessed was beyond me. I watched as he switched on the projector and connected his laptop to show the slides of the lessons we were going to tackle.
“Should we start?” He asked, leaving me undeniably astounded.
Why wasn’t he saying anything about what he just saw? He just witnessed two students making out in front of him, and he’s proceeding on with teaching me like nothing just happened.
“Ms. Hills,” Zaijian called, my focus reshifting. “I said, should we start with the lessons?” he added while looking straight into my eyes and into the depths of my soul—searching and unraveling parts of me that I didn’t even know.
One
