Before she walked away I said, “Let’s meet in the school library after last period to do our homework.” She nodded and mouthed you over everyone before she walked away.
On the other hand, in addition to homeroom, I had three classes with Dom: chemistry, geometry, and AP lit with Ms. Novak. When I stepped into English, Dom was already there, sitting in the front row, a book open on his desk.
“Hey,” he said when I walked in, like we were old friends or something.
“Hi,” I muttered, still a little annoyed about how different my and Layla’s schedules were.
“What are you reading?” he asked me. I’d grabbed a seat in the row behind him, diagonal from his desk which was front and center, so that he had to twist almost all the way around to see me.
“Othello,” I told him. “It’s one of my favorites.”
He pressed his lips together. “So you like betrayal, huh?” he whispered.
“No. What I like is the language.” I recited a few of my favorite lines. “What wound did ever heal but by degrees? She gave me for my pain a world of kisses. Men should be what they seem.”
Dom poked out his bottom lip like he was impressed.
“But I won’t lie,” I continue. “The jealousy, betrayal, and revenge are pretty entertaining.”
Dom let out a breathy laugh.
“Okay, okay,” Ms. Novak said, calling class to order. “Welcome to AP English Literature and Composition. This year we’ll explore novels, poetry, and plays from several different time periods in order to prepare you for the AP exam at the end of the year. Keep in mind, this is a college preparatory course, so this isn’t easy stuff. But all of you are in this class because I believe my regular literature class wouldn’t be challenging enough for your reading and writing levels.”
Ms. Novak winked at me and I grinned.
I wouldn’t say I was a teacher’s pet, or that I was Novak’s favorite, but she definitely liked me. She and my dad were really good friends, and after I aced her class last year, I knew I wanted to take her every year I was at Chisholm Charter.
She passed around a syllabus and I read the list of required reading to myself. I was really excited to see Hamlet as one of the first plays we’d be diving into.
“We’ll spend most of the year learning to interpret the meanings behind the language in the works on the list in front of you, and learning to write about those interpretations. In other words, welcome to the art of coming up with convincing bullcrap, people.”
The class laughed.
“In all seriousness, though, it’s gonna be hard, but it’s gonna be fun. I promise.”
* * *
—
The rest of the day made me forget about the morning’s weirdness, so when I stepped into the library after school to meet Layla, I wasn’t thinking about homeroom or Sloane. But when I saw Layla sitting on the floor right by the door texting, I couldn’t help but wonder who was on the receiving end. Luckily, Ms. Novak was there too, and she was leaning over the circulation desk talking to my dad.
“…the application is pretty straightforward,” I heard her say.
“Is she telling you about London?” I asked, skipping over to his desk. The application for the Young Scholars Program at Shakespeare’s Globe was up on his computer. I gleefully clapped my hands. “It sounds friggin’ perfect, doesn’t it?” I asked him.
Ms. Novak pulled up some pictures next—all the photos she took while she was there over the summer. The three of us—me, Daddy, and Layla—crowded around the computer to see. Daddy shook his head and straightened his glasses. “It sounds perfect for you, Baby Girl.”
“Daddy,” I said, looking around. I hated when he called me Baby Girl at school. I glanced at Layla and we both cringed.
“Oh, right. Cleo,” he said, correcting himself. I reached out and tugged his tie.
“I was explaining that you have to write a short statement of interest, and that the deadline is anytime between now and the end of October. I think you’ll find out if you’re accepted in December,” Ms. Novak said to me.
“You’ll read it, right? My statement of interest when I’m done?” I asked her. “I want to make sure it’s perfect.”
“Duh,” she said, and I giggled.
“Stacks?” Layla asked after we’d gone through about a hundred of Ms. Novak’s photos and I was in a full-on London-induced trance. I tore myself away.
“See ya later, Novak,” I said. “Daddy, come grab me when you’re heading home.”
We walked back to our favorite corner of the library, and I started spreading out my books and papers and pens.
“How was the rest of your day?” I asked Layla. She had started taking her stuff out of her bag, but once everything was unpacked, she didn’t open any of her notebooks. She was back on her phone, texting again.
“Eh, okay, I g-g-guess.” She put her phone down and turned to me, dipping her head and sweeping all her messy waves up into a bun. “AP c-calc is going to be c-c-crazy hard. And I weirdly have a b-b-bunch of classes with Sloane.”
All the kids at Chisholm are brainy, but Layla and I are brainy in different ways. She’s great with numbers. I’m better with words. But I didn’t think this would divide us in any real way until college. I wonder if Sloane is on the same track as Layla because she’s into math and science too.
“Sounds like a nightmare,” I said. I meant the math class, but it sounded like I was talking about Sloane.
Layla forced out a rush of air before she was able to speak the words, “Harsh, C.”
“I meant calc!”
“Suuuure you did.”
Her phone buzzed again and when she picked it up she grinned. Her fingers tapped across the screen. She paused. She laughed. “Sorry,” she said, glancing at me. But she kept texting.
“I have a bunch of classes with Dom,” I said. That got her attention, and she put the phone facedown on the floor.
“Were you staring at him as much in those c-c-classes as you were in homeroom?”
“Hahaha. You’re so funny,” I said. Layla nudged my arm.
“I’m just fucking with you. He’s c-c-cute. You interested?”
“Not sure yet,” I said. “I’m more concerned with not screwing up in Novak’s class and getting into this Shakespeare program at the moment.”
Layla nodded. “Well, you’re bloody brilliant. You’re quite a shoo-in, Cleo Baker, if you ask me. They should pick you over everyone, love. Always and forever.” She said it all theatrically, in a much better British accent than she’d been using during the summer.