‘My goodness… you kept this?’ she said. ‘After all these years?’ ‘It was my last good report card, Julia,’ I joked. ‘Why wouldn’t I ...eep it?’ The name ‘Julia’ sounded strange on my lips. She was, and in many ways would forever be, Miss Russell. She had been my teacher in the second grade, and she was the first woman upon whom I had a hopeless, heart aching crush. As I watched her study my report card, I thought about many things. I was still in her classroom, sitting at a tiny desk with an. My dad is either too focused on her blushing, jiggling cheeks to mind my position, or he enjoys a witness to his power and Chloe's humiliation. Seeing her butt stuck up in the air gives me guilty satisfaction. My shame, when I first heard her cry my name, has vanished with the sounds of the spanking, evaporated as the late afternoon golden sun rays shine on her exposed, tender cheeks. I feel unworthy superiority, as if I was directing this scene. I am ashamed by my feelings, but my body. More

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