I waited until the next bell rang, then stood across the quad looking through a telephoto lens at Ann's locker. The hubub of the betweenclass activity hid me perfectly, and after two minutes or so I spied her heading toward her locker. She looked just as she always did, aloof and superior. I could not believe that such a debasing scene did nothing to change her attitude, but she clearly still held herself "above it all."

Just for a few moments longer, Ann, I thought.

She opened her locker and the envelop fell to the ground. I must have gasped a little when another girl picked it up, looked at it, and handed it to her. She said something, probably intended to be witty, but Ann frosted her with a snooty look and the girl walked away. Ann read the envelope, closed her locker, and walked over to sit on the planter that surrounded the flagpole. Checking to see that no one was near, she opened the envelope and unfolded the sheet.

She must have opened it to the photo side first, because her face went white, her eyes grew large as saucers, and she clasped the sheet immediately to her chest to hide the side where the photos where. She looked around again, frantic, then noticed the writing on the reverse side. She stuffed the sheet back into the envelope without reading it, then ran off to the girls room, looking a little ill.

I chuckled to myself. Ann looked about as un-superior as a person could, stumbling frantically off to the bathroom clutching sex photos of herself. I knew she was going there to read the note, to scan the photos again in disbelief. I knew she was scared and suffering, and in the darkest reaches of my heart I felt great. She was, I guess, a symbol for all the elite people of the world, to me. She was the embodiment of all the things a normal person never gets to have.