Mrs Watkins' class was otherwise unremarkable, and I began to wonder if I shouldn't have stayed in the back row. Still, a break from immature crude boys can be a nice thing from time to time. One thing I found interesting was how she managed to avoid eye contact with me, front row center, the entire fifteen minutes. I wondered if she could last a full class period. When class was over, the boy who volunteered to help me with my homework was probably heartbroken I didn't even acknowledge his presence. Sucks to be him, I guess.