I remember my first crush. She was a TA at my Montessori kindergarten. I don’t remember her name. All I remember is that she wore her jet-black hair in a bob, and that she had red lips. I walked in on her in the toilet. That’s where it all began. She used the boy’s. Her panties were at her ankles. She hadn’t locked the door. I just stared. She smiled warmly and gently pushed the door closed.