"Is it finally Friday?" Tess shoved her book bag into her locker, smothering a yawn.

Jacqui laughed, screwing the top back onto a bottle of orange juice she had just finished. "Look on the bright side: we're through the first week. Only a few dozen more weeks to go."

It was such a depressing thought that Tess could almost laugh, too. She'd been in school for five days and it already felt like an eternity.

"You look a little tired," said Jacqui.

"I am. How did your proposal go?"

"Great. I think I might actually enjoy this research paper. How'd yours go?"

Tess shrugged one shoulder. "I couldn't think of anything to write about. I managed to refine my stupid 'dentists' topic down to 'flossing.'"

Jacqui looked thoughtful. "That's not a half-bad paper topic. I bet no one in our class flosses. Maybe you'll encourage some good habits."

"Even I don't floss as often as I should."

"I thought your dad was a dentist?"

"He is. He gets on my case about it, but one time he forgot his own dentist appointment, so I blame it on his genes." Tess grabbed her Spanish books and closed her locker, then headed down the hall with Jacqui. "Anything exciting going on in your classes today?"

"Not that I know of. But I think this SAT Prep class is gonna be worth it. The teacher doesn't mess around, but I guess that's what you want when you're preppin' for a test like that."

"I know what you mean. There's enough stuff in that book for ten years of studying. You'll have to let me know if you learn any tricks." Tess was lucky she'd been able to fit an SAT prep class into her schedule—it was a small attempt to plan for the future.

"I will," Jacqui said, "and you do the same. I honestly don't know if there's any trick though...What can you do but study everything you can think of, cross your fingers, and hope for the best?"

"That describes my entire academic life," Tess said with a laugh. Tess waved to Jacqui at the intersection of the halls. "See you at lunch."

One thing to look forward to in Spanish class was seeing Isaac. Isaac, the boy with whom Tess now had a date.

A date.

It was all Tess could do to focus on the vocabulary lesson. As the minute hand crept forward and the end of the class approached, Tess stared at her notebook, wondering for the sixth time in a row what charco de barro meant. She was sure Señora López had defined the term at least twice, but she'd missed it, too preoccupied with the anxious ache in her stomach.

Would Isaac wait for her after class like he had the first couple of days?

She had to focus. Her Spanish grade was not going to be good, or even decent, unless she really applied herself.

When the bell rang, Tess gathered up her books, avoiding Señora López's gaze. She was left without a definition for charco de barro and without a solid understanding of the homework assignment written up on the board. Tess wondered if the teacher suspected that she was struggling, or whether the tutoring pamphlet she'd given her on the first day of school was just a courtesy she extended to all new students.

Isaac was at the door when she made her way out; he was smiling that dimpled smile. "Hey."

"Hey." She smiled back at him. "Did you find a good time for the movie?"

"There's a showing at 2:10 at the West Circle Mall. You okay with that theater?"

"You'll probably think it's weird, but I haven't been to any movies since I moved here, so I don't know which theater is the good one. I'll be easy to impress."

Isaac laughed. "Well, it isn't the nicest theater, but I think they have the best popcorn. The tickets are a little less, too. Not that that matters—my treat, obviously."

Tess's cheeks reddened. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"Okay, well, next time is my treat, then." The words were out before she could think. She glanced up at Isaac's face, searching his expression for any sign of confusion or distaste. Would he think her presumptuous for assuming there would be a next time?

But he didn't look taken aback at all. "All right, that sounds fair. I'm really looking forward to this weekend. Can I pick you up at, like, 1:30? That'll give us plenty of time to get there and get snacks."

"That sounds great. You don't mind picking me up?"

"Not at all." He winked. "See you later, Math Girl."

Tess paused for a moment, watching Isaac walk away. There had been something teasing in his tone when he called her "Math Girl," but it hadn't sounded unfriendly, so she decided to take it as a compliment. She didn't even have Calc that day, though—it was straight to Sociology from Spanish.

Sociology passed uneventfully, as did lunch, and it was full steam ahead to Senior English. Tess was worried about going back given how Wednesday had gone, but as she settled into her seat and saw Ms. Keene's welcoming smile, she began to feel less anxious.

"Good afternoon, class! I could barely sleep last night I was so excited about your research projects." Ms. Keene raised her hands and made a "bring it on" gesture. "Let's see those proposals, kids. Hand 'em over!"

Turning in her research proposal was a nerve wracking moment, but Jacqui gave her a reassuring smile as she held her own neatly-printed page aloft. Tess flipped through her English folder—how did she have so many hand-outs and papers already?—and found her proposal. She realized she had forgotten to date it and snatched up her pencil to jot a hasty date in the upper right-hand corner.

Would Ms. Keene dock for that?

Hopefully not. It was just a thinking exercise, wasn't that what she'd said?

Weaving her way through the desks and plucking papers out of students' hands, Ms. Keene lingered here and there and browsed the printed pages, making noncommittal, thoughtful sounds. To Tess's chagrin, the teacher stopped by her desk and scanned her paper.

"Hm. An interesting choice, Ms. Morrison." She moved on and, a few desks down the line, exclaimed, "Octopuses! I am delighted to meet another lover of the noble cephalopod."

For the rest of the class period, they focused on the elements of an essay, a lesson that was actually helpful; Tess took copious notes and, as she left the class with the rest of the students after the final bell of the day, she felt a little better about the assignment ahead. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Her dad was the one waiting for her at the curb when she stepped out of the building. With a smile on her lips, Tess headed toward his car, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders.

"Someone's in a good mood," Robert said as she climbed into the car.

"How was work?" she replied.

"Deflection. A clever tactic. It was good, Tess. A light day, appointment-wise. I appreciated the breather. And you? Did you get a good score on an assignment, or does that smile betoken something different? Perhaps a new-found appreciation for—"

"Dad, I just don't like The Scarlet Letter, okay? You're so weird. I didn't even have that class today."

As he pulled away from the school, Robert shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Fine. They warned me about sullen teenage silences; I'm prepared."

"Isaac and I are going to go see a movie on Saturday," Tess said, unable to let even a second pass between her dad's teasing and her news. "He's going to pick me up at 1:30."

"Excellent! I'll be ready to go."

Startled, Tess stared at him, but his attention was on the road. "What?"

"I said I'll be ready to go with you."

"Dad, are you serious?"

He broke into laughter. "God, no, I'm not serious. I don't want to go on a date with you guys."

Sinking back into her seat, she sighed in relief. "You scared the crap out of me for a second there."

"But do me a favor and pretend like I'm there. Watching. From the shadows. Like a ninja of paternal vigilance. If he gets fresh, I'll nail him with a shuriken. You can tell him that, too."

"Dad. No. Just, no." He could be so dorky sometimes. But when she looked back at him, she caught him smiling at her—a tender, affectionate smile. "What?"

"I hope you have fun, is all. It's good seeing you so happy, punkin."