I don't know if this even counts as a real confession but I saw my lit professor today, the one for my English class, and like, he's supposed to be super smart, always talking about big books. And I saw him at this tiny coffee place out near the highway, really early, and he was reading some dumb celebrity gossip magazine, but he had a REAL book, like, a fancy old one, on top of it, hiding it. He looked so serious, like he didn't want anyone to see. It just felt really weird, like I don't know, it made me feel kinda— I don't even know, just weird.