I don’t remember what Ms. Farrell was reading, but I remember the look she gave me. It has stayed with me for seven years and will stay with me for seventy more. 

It was read aloud, her voice was a calming sound, the ebb and flow of ocean waves. It was my favorite part of the day, prime time for note-passing. Like any other day, I walked over to “get hand sanitizer” and pumped it into my hand to relieve suspicion. The scent, intoxicating and strong, filled the room.

 On my way back to my desk I slid my note to my friend. My mission was complete and I sat at my desk. As I looked up triumphantly, I met Ms. Farrell’s eyes. 

They pierced mine and I rapidly looked down. I felt my face flush and my stomach dropped, how did she see? I swear I was secretive enough!

I went back to coloring my picture and tried to act unaffected by what had just happened, but inside I was in turmoil. Would she tell my parents? Would I lose recess time? All these questions surrounded me like an avalanche. I promised myself I would never let myself feel this again, even if it meant no more note passing. 

Never will I forget the feeling inside. Never will I forget Ms. Farrel, whose looks can shake you to your core. Never will I forget the note passing. Never will I forget the moment when I looked up. Never will I forget when our eyes met and my brain went blank.

Never will I forget the feeling inside, even if the third grade was decades ago before. Never.