Finally, to Kay’s relief, they began to talk about their sexual feelings. For a while, she thought the boys in the back of the room were going to do nothing but smirk and wisecrack. For eleventh graders, some of them were remarkably immature.

It was her last class of the day, and she was glad when the bell rang. “Hold it one more second,” she ordered. “On Monday, I want you each to bring me pictures from magazines or newspapers that tell us more about sexual roles in our-” she spotted Mitch in the doorway, and gulped in shock “-society. Be prepared to talk about what you think is sensible in those roles, and what you think is unimportant, illogical or unfair.”

The class, dismissed, headed toward the open door with the collective grace of a charging bull. For a minute, Mitch’s face was lost in the shuffle. Maybe she had only imagined he was there? She hadn’t heard from him since the previous Saturday and hadn’t expected to; they hadn’t even exchanged last names.

But when the kids cleared out, he was definitely there, leaning against the doorway, an old brown leather jacket slung over one shoulder and a brown-corded leg shoved forward as he waited for her. She felt a flush climbing her cheeks as she hurriedly retrieved her books and papers.

“I’ve gone through more trouble than you know to find you, Kay Lucretia Sanders.” His voice boomed out in the empty room.

She grabbed her coat with a sudden smile. “I can understand how you might have learned my last name, and even how you tracked me to this school. But not how you uncovered Lucretia. That middle name’s been buried for years.” Her eyes flashed impish glints. “You must be a very determined man,” she said solemnly. “Either that, or unbelievably nosy. Did you enjoy the lesson?”

“I wanted to come in and sit on the kid in the back row, but I controlled myself.”

She chuckled, switching out the light as they left the room. “Jeff will come around one of these days. Compassion and patience work a great deal better than stem reprimands, at least for my subject.”