Romance in the classroom is the heady stuff that daydreams are truly made of. Every newly-pubescent teenager is eager to try their hand at the exciting sport of love that has kicked off in their midst, and while some have the option of actually taking to the court and handling the ball, others are unfortunately side-lined due to a lack of talent or appeal.
If you have known the pain of being on the alternates bench, forced to learn by observation rather than participation, eeking out small amounts of pleasure vicariously rather than viscerally, then you too may have turned your daydreams to loftier heights. After all, if you're not given the chance to take part in your own league, what's the harm in day-dreaming of playing at a higher standard...say, pro-ball?
During my tenure as a teenager, my eye was caught more than once by one of my learned teachers. As my intellectual equals they were more desirable than my classmates, who often seemed to have been raised by wolves. Pointless posturing and displays of supposed bravado were not for them - they were assured in their knowledge and power, and this assurance carried with it the power to attract people like myself who were hungry for the timeless, romantic side of love.
While I knew that I could never consumate my crushes on these secondary school superiors, dreaming held frission enough to satisfy...for the time being at least...