I approach his desk."What's up?" I ask. Mr. Desai sits down, sighing. He opens a desk drawer and flips through a row of files, finally pulling out a t...st with my name on it. Next to it is a huge "F" written in bright red ink. I stare at the test blankly."You have just failed this latest test. 20% is pathetic.," Mr. Desai says. "And you're constantly late for class." I say nothing. He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows."I know. I just get distracted easily," I stammer.Mr. Desai holds his. She still couldn’t really believe all that had happened in the past three weeks: Alex Hammond had spotted her in a supermarket. She hadn’t recognized him at first and had thought he was just another old man (well she was still in her teens) trying the patented ‘I’m an agent/director/producer and I’m going to make you a top model/actress/singer’ route. When she’d realized it wasn’t a joke nor a come on she’d panicked. She hadn’t ever acted, was quite possibly one of the only young women in this. She was sitting at a table by herself and for an hour I watched her turn away guy after guy when they asked her to dance. I couldn't figure it out; she was absolutely into the music, her body swayed and her fingers tapped the table to the beat. I had danced with a couple of different girls, but my attention kept being drawn back to her and that was something else I couldn't figure out. Taken as separate parts she wasn't much to look at; her face was OK, even pretty, but nothing special, and her. " A few days after that, she swapped her mid-calf length dresses for miniskirts and thin, cotton blouses. Not long after that, she stopped wearing bras. I remember thinking the first morning she came down to breakfast without a bra that she had never looked more beautiful or as sexy. At forty-something, she had a body that most twenty-year old girls would kill for. That morning changed our lives together forever.As we sat across the table from one another that morning, I couldn't take my eyes.