"That look. I can feel your eyes on me. Those boring brown eyes. I hate your face. I do. You keep looking at me and all I can I think is, I hate your fucking face. But I don't glance up. I don't say that. I never say the thoughts in my head.The oscillating fan blows one strand of flyaway hair in my face and I re-tuck it for the hundredth time. I should switch seats, but it'll only provoke him more. It's hot. Shirt-sticking, sweat-beading kind of hot,...