She came into the room at the beginning of the sixth period final. It was the last exam of the year. But she was exempt, so I was surprised to see her.
“Here, Mr. Hasan,” she said. “Thank you,” her long dark hair framing a relaxed smile.
She handed me a card and then left for the cafeteria, where the exempt students were assembling. It was a long, sweet note that concluded with these words:
I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m going to miss algebra. I hope your summer is full of cashews and pickles!
They know us really, really well.