He's a law student, I thought, which explains his rhetorical skills. Every so often he would turn to look at me. Somewhat mischievously, although in the most unaffected manner, I started unbuttoning my blouse from the neck down, revealing the white swell of my breasts. Perhaps he noticed my gesture. At any rate, he began to turn more frequently, and with a mixture of curiosity and slight embarrassment he started making eyes at me, or at least so I thought. After finishing his speech, he sat down again and stuck the pen back in his mouth, ignoring the applause that was directed at him. Then he turned toward me-I had meanwhile gone back to writing my report-and said, "I don't recall your name."

I felt like playing. "I still haven't told you," I replied.

He lifted his head a bit and said, "Right…"

I smiled and watched him resume taking notes, pleased that he might be waiting for me to tell him my name.

"Aren't you going to tell me?" he asked, scrutinizing my face.

I beamed. "Melissa," I said.

"Mmmm… Your name is the Greek for 'bee.' Do you like honey?"

"Too sweet," I replied. "I prefer stronger tastes."

He shook his head, smiled, and each of us continued writing on our own. After a while he stood up to smoke a cigarette, and I saw him laugh and gesture excitedly to another guy (who was also quite handsome). At times he would glance at me and smile, letting the cigarette dangle from his mouth. From a distance he appeared thinner, and his hair seemed soft and scented, bronze-colored ringlets that fell gently on his face. He stood leaning against the streetlight, shifting all his weight to one hip, which he seemed to be holding up with the hand in his trouser pocket. A green-checked shirt flounced out, disarranged, and round glasses completed his intellectual look. I'd seen his friend a few times outside of school, handing out leaflets. He invariably had a small cigar in his mouth, lit or not.