INSIDE GLASS TOWERS

Thinking about Alva, I remember the swagger when he walked into my Boca Raton office for that business appointment. A haunting nervous twitch—fueled by his sexual charisma—drove me wild. Every time we locked eyes, I felt as if I’d stepped into a chemistry lesson. Every cell in my brain’s electronic circuit board of logic rebooted with a three-finger salute: Control-Alt-Delete. I looked Alva up and down, playfully as a 3D printer, never once thinking about hitting delete. It’s a sensation I’ll never forget. Every neuron in my head explodes—he’s burned into my memory. They say you learn by watching; the day I met Alva, I earned my four-year degree in chemistry.