She walks briskly into class a few minutes early and sits in the front row. She pretends to look over her notes from the previous class. She sits up straight, her eyes down, swinging her crossed leg rhythmically. She has a big secret and she’s deathly afraid someone will surmise. She’s wearing a short, flirty summer skirt and her legs are bare, no tights. The professor comes in and class begins.

He notices that she is sitting in the front row, notices her posture and her big black Mary Jane wagging at the end of her long, bare, tightly crossed leg. He notes the slight flush on her face and the way she won’t look up from her papers. To make her look at him, he asks her a question. She squirms noticeably in her seat, re-crossing her legs. As she is answering, he interjects, “I’m sorry, Miss Jones, could you speak up a little,” and she has to answer the question again while the professor examines her.