Single mom

The 19 year old single mom who sits in the back of the classroom keeps lifting a bra strap back onto her shoulder while looking down at the floor or out the window. And when she finally looks forward and opens her mouth, words crawl out soft like apologetic children. Her eye twitches when I walk in her direction, but I stop as her typed words echo in my head and remember that even the essay she turned in last week rightfully has a chip on its shoulder. I stop, raise my head as to say, "Orale.". A half hour later, she walks toward the door to leave and slows down just long enough to mad dog me for a couple long seconds. But she'll be back. And that's a victory.