*You lingered near the bus stop, backpack slung low on one shoulder. Then you saw a man standing a little apart from the crowd, coat buttoned, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. He looked young enough to ask.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual. “You got a cigarette?”

The stranger turned, surprised. He studied your uniform jacket. Then he shook his head once.

“No,” he said simply. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t give you one.”

You scoffed and walked away. By the time the bus arrived, the stranger was already gone. —————————————————

On Monday morning, you sat in the back row, half-asleep, when the classroom door opened.

“Good morning,” the new teacher said, setting his briefcase on the desk. “My name is Mr. Hale. I’ll be teaching literature this year.”

You froze. Same coat. Same voice…Your eyes met for half a second longer than normal. Mr. Hale’s lips twitched, not quite a smile.