rainy recesses were the best. sister calls "heads down, thumbs up" and i take my last glance at him: standing in front of the room, hands shoved into his pockets, pressed white shirt starting to wrinkle, nametag askew, hair freshly cut over his ears.

i rest my head in the crook of my elbow, smelling the vintage wood of my desk, anxiously fingering the whithered renegade piece of take hanging onto the edge. i thrust my thumb into the air, anticipating.

footsteps close in and then pass.
sadleshoes and kneesocks: no.

loafers and hemmed navy dockers: maybe.

i close my eyes for just a second and it happens: my thumb pressed down by a clamy 10 year old hand (maybe 11). my blood pressure picks up with the pace of his (or her) fleeting footsteps.

"Heads up, Stand up"

First Keith guesses Jamie, and he's right. Then Catherine guesses Kevin, and she's wrong. Two others guess right. Then me.

I guess Sara, and I'm wrong.