she sits at the corner of the room, trying to appear nondescript. she succeeds - people hardly pay attention to a girl who doesn't bother to run a comb through her hair, much less apply some rouge on her lips, even when she's surrounded by girls who spend a considerable amount of time fixing themselves up. she hardly says anything, just sits there and listens.
i've heard other professors - my wife included - say how well she performs in class, and how obedient she is, and how much she keeps to herself, unlike some of her classmates who would most likely try to draw my attention on the first day of my month-long training class with them, so it didn't really surprise me when she took out her notebook, scribbed on it with her left hand, and did not meet my gaze.
there was something about her seeming shyness that made me uncomfortable, probably because i was used to having students making a beeline for my attention. in all my years of being a training professor, i have yet to meet a student who could give me cold feet - but here she was, living silently in her corner, barely breathing, but setting my gears clicking.
heck, i told myself. i'm as stubborn as she is shy. let's pry open that shell.
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