Huh? I always regret blasting my music when this happens. But like all the other days, it makes me smile.  I pick up the pink rose off the edge of the other side of the table, see the familiar tag with my name written on it. Sometimes this stranger leaves it on my desk in one of my classrooms, sometimes they leave it on my locker, and sometimes, like this time, the rose suddenly appears beside me. You're a real ninja, whoever you are.