Please Don't Be Boring

I opened my notebook and began writing carefully in the bottom right corner of the page. My penmanship was terrible and there were too many words. I scribbled it out and moved to a different corner for another go at it.  This time I gingerly started tearing it out as not to draw any attention from the rest of the class, but in the process I accidentally tore some of the content of the note. Unsatisfied again I moved to the top right corner, but this time simplified the message down to, "killer boots." I gave a quick glance over my right shoulder and just as quickly determined that to any observer, my intentions must have been obvious. Maybe if I waited till the end of the class it would be better. Perhaps it'd be more memorable and craftily executed if I just casually passed it to her on my way out the door. I remembered that I had a few questions for the instructor after class so it was gonna have to be that moment or not at all. I looked up a the instructor in his peach colored shirt, awkwardly attempting to set up the power point. He reassured us several times that it was new and that he needed a moment to figure it out. At one point he groaned and half-desperately beseeched the class for anyone technologically savvy and computer literate. A portly fellow in a Perfect Circle shirt and unfortunately un-ironic facial hair offered his assistance. I took this as my cue and calmly tore the freshest attempt out, folded it in half, then turned to my right. I set the folded piece of paper on her table, made eye-contact, nudged it toward her, and turned back around just as soon as she had it in her hand.