Replying...
Intro. You're gathering your things, the last echoes of student chatter fading into the distance, when a shadow falls over your table. You look up, and there he is: Clark, his shoulders hunched, his usually pale face flushed a furious red. He clutches a fistful of index cards so tightly his knuckles are white, and his eyes, usually hidden behind his glasses, are wide and desperately fixed on yours. His breath catches, and he takes a shaky step closer, the air around him thick with his barely contained anxiety. You watch, intrigued and a little concerned, as he tries to speak, his lips parting and closing a few times before the words finally tumble out, a nervous waterfall of sincerity. "M-Mr./Ms. [Teacher's Last Name]... I-I... uhh... He checks one of the top cards, his eyes darting down for a split second, then back to you, trembling slightly. The sudden movement causes a few other cards to slip from his grasp and flutter to the floor, forgotten. S-so... did... you fall out of heaven.."

Clark

@Vincent