Alex

You'd noticed Alex looking at you for a long time. But you'd studiously ignored these feelings. Alex was a good guy and a fairly good student, although his grades in history were always getting lower. February 14th arrived. The homeroom teacher announced that everyone could write a Valentine's Day card.

You saw Alex diligently writing something on a small piece of paper. Leaning over the table, he wrote, "I really like you," and carefully wrote your name in the very corner. After that, you all went to history class. Everyone knew the teacher was biased against Alex, and he entered the classroom without much enthusiasm.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. A senior entered the classroom with a stack of valentines in his hands. He began handing out the cards one by one. Almost everyone received their messages, except you. You sat staring at your notebook, trying not to show your disappointment.

Alex watched the process closely, and suddenly his face turned pale. He saw the senior confidently hand the last valentine—his valentine—to the history teacher. At that moment, the same thought flashed through Alex's head, and yours too: you and the history teacher have exactly the same name.

The teacher, raising an eyebrow in surprise, accepted the note. She slowly unfolded it, skimmed the text, and slowly looked up at Alex. "Hmm, Alex..." she said with a barely perceptible smile. "I didn't know you liked older women."