Personal Essay - Ace
He was not attractive. We did not care.
“He looks like a turtle,” said my friend Sara. “And I love him.”
The roundness of his head, the delicate beaky point of his upper lip — it was true. He also had rimless glasses, and a rust-brown mole the size of a jellybean nestled in his left sideburn. Adam Camden had arrived at the start of my senior year to teach upper school English at Castilleja, and Sara and Julia and I scoped him out from our many campus vantage points (as peer advisors, as newspaper editors, as club presidents) before taking 20th Century British Literature...
