Tess's second Senior English class took place that Wednesday. While The Scarlet Letter was the focus in Lit, Senior English seemed to be more about preparing students for college by teaching them to write research papers.

Fun.

Ms. Keene taught both classes, and while Tess did not enjoy the subject matter, she did appreciate Ms. Keene's wit. The other perk to Senior English was that Jacqui shared the class and, happily, they were seated near one another again.

"Day Two, dear students," Ms. Keene announced as everyone settled into their seats. "Wait, wait." She paused, looking up at the ceiling. Tess watched her, wondering what was wrong. She glanced around to the other students, seeing confused expressions on more than one face.

The bell rang.

"There!" said Ms. Keene. "Never let it be said that Minerva Keene impinges upon your sacred passing period. Day Two! With a show of hands, who among us knows what 'MLA' is?"

Once again, Tess looked around at her peers. Within three seconds, every hand in the class was raised, including Jacqui's. On impulse, Tess raised her own, although she had no idea what "MLA" was. It did sound familiar, but she couldn't place the acronym.

"Excellent! I won't waste my time explaining, then. Yesterday, we went over the syllabus and briefly touched on the fact that this class will be nothing but a tortuous succession of research papers with steadily-ascending page requirements."

Ms. Keene turned toward the board and snatched up a dry erase marker. "I give you quite a bit of freedom in choosing your specific topics. In my personal experience, it's easier to write when you care about the subject. That being said, you'll have to find something that fits in with my guidelines for each paper.

"For your first paper, you will simply be doing a report." She paused to write "Report" on the board, and began to bullet out a list of requirements. "Your topic must be sufficiently complex that you can write three to four pages, double-spaced because I am merciful. Consider when you choose your topic that your audience is 'an average reader'—someone who might have heard of your topic before, but likely has no specific knowledge of the subject. For example, if you're writing about a video game-related topic, pretend...well, pretend your reader is me, because the last video game I played was Tetris on the original Game Boy. Make sense?"

She glanced over her shoulder, waited until a few heads were nodded, and then turned back to the board. "You will use the MLA style guide for your citations and include a Works Cited page, which must contain no fewer than four academic sources. And," she turned fully to face the class, pointing her marker at the students as a whole, "One of them must be a print resource—that is, a book."

There were a few groans.

Ms. Keene snatched up a copy of The Scarlet Letter from her desk and held it aloft. "You know books, I hope, especially those of you I've seen in Lit class: two covers, pages, made of paper. I suggest looking in the library; they have been known to congregate there. I will accept a periodical as a resource. So, as you choose your topics for your research paper, please think of something that's likely to be addressed in print."

Her stomach churning, Tess wrote down the requirements Ms. Keene was explaining, trying to keep up.

Turning back to the board, Ms. Keene moved to the side to start a new list. She wrote PROPOSAL: and, underneath it, What, Who, and Why. "For each of the papers you write in my class, I require more than just a final draft to be turned in; there are stages. First, you'll write a proposal. Then, you will turn in the research you've done—your list of sources. I'll also take a first draft of your paper before you turn in the final product. Before you groan again, keep in mind that I do have to grade all these things. I don't make you do it because I love to grade. It's to ensure you receive the feedback and guidance you need, so that your final paper will be more successful.

"Today, you will use the class period to begin your research proposal, which will consist of three paragraphs. First, you'll tell me what you want to research. Include a few ideas for avenues of research and what you'll seek to learn. If, for example, I were interested in writing a research report on 17th-century ships, a topic about which I know virtually nothing, I could begin by investigating what ships were used for, what types of ships there were, and, perhaps, what seafaring advances were made in the 17th century.

"Second, you'll tell me about your audience. How might you approach explaining your topic to a general audience? What special things will you have to consider, such as definitions or background information?

"Finally, give me a taste of why you're interested in the topic. That part should be straightforward. Are there any questions?"

A student toward the back of the class raised his hand. "When is it due?"

"The proposal? I'm so glad you asked, Keith; it's due in our next class period, which would be Friday."

This announcement was met with a general sigh. Tess's heart sank as she added this work to the growing mental "To Do" list she'd have when she got home. Jacqui had been right: two English classes at once was no joke, and Tess had not fully understood how difficult the rest of her schedule would be on top of it.

Ms. Keene smiled. "Don't worry too much, class. This first assignment is mostly a thinking exercise to ensure you are on the right track. Now: let's get this research party started! Gather your things, please, and we'll head to the library. Annnd...go!" She threw her arms up as if she were one of the flag girls at a drag race.

Students began to collect their books and belongings without much enthusiasm. Tess looked up at the board. The excitement of her lunchtime exchange with Isaac was far from her mind. What was she going to write about to fill three to four pages?

"Come on, Tess! We can share a computer in the lab." Jacqui tucked her books underneath her arm and nodded toward the door.

Tess hurried to follow her. "Jacqui, what's MLA?"

Jacqui raised her brows. "It's a citation style. You're telling me you've never used MLA? It's the standard for English classes, I think."

"I...I didn't take English last year. I guess I must be behind."

"Girl, you'll be fine. They have websites where you can plug in all info and it'll generate the citations for you. As long as you know the basics so you can check that it's formatted correctly, it's easy. I'll show you."

Tess sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the Powers that Be that she lived in the 2010s, with websites that made research papers a little more manageable. "Great." They rounded the corner toward the library, following the stream of their classmates. Ms. Keene trailed behind them, ensuring there were no stragglers.

"Do you know what you're going to write about?" Tess asked.

"I think I'll see what's out there about dissection as a learning tool in classrooms. Maybe I'll feel less squeeby about dissecting a frog if I know it's good for me."

Tess wrinkled her nose. "Wow, that's...specific."

"What can I say? It's on my mind. What are you going to do?"

A boy from their class was holding open the door for the students in front of them. Tess and Jacqui stepped into the library and turned toward the door to the computer lab. "I have no idea."

Jacqui made a beeline toward the one remaining unclaimed computer, snagging an extra chair on the way. As they sat down in front of the screen, she said, "What do you like to do? Maybe that would give you an idea."

This was a nonchalant question, one most people were used to asking and answering at the drop of a hat, but it threw Tess off guard. Her mind went blank as she watched Jacqui log into the school computer system, open a browser, and navigate to the library's online catalog of research databases.

What did she like to do?

Everything Tess had enjoyed—robotics club, soccer, the Mathletes, volunteering at the humane society, trivia games, and all the stupid stuff she had done to pass the time with her old friends from her old life—seemed like a distant memory. What did she like to do?

Nothing.

In the world Julia had left behind, there was little joy to be found. Even in the long months during which Tess had taken a leave of absence from school, she had done...nothing. Nothing but grieve, grapple with her overwhelming guilt, and watch her parents slowly implode.

"Um. Watch T.V.?" she said. The realization of how much of herself she'd left behind in Minnesota—how much of herself she'd lost along with her sister—had taken the wind out of her.

"That's it? Girl, we gotta get you into a sport or something." Jacqui was already performing rapid-fire keyword searches on dissection, anatomy coursework, and the like. She clicked to save a couple of articles to her database folder and continued to scroll. "Looks like they have some interesting articles on here. I just want to make sure there's enough material that I can use those poor froggies as a topic." She paused and looked at Tess with an encouraging smile. "You're probably gonna want to find something other than T.V. to write about. I'll bet you at least three other kids in class are gonna write about T.V. shows."

Tess drew in a deep breath. She was beginning to feel dizzy, and her palms had begun to sweat. "What about dentists?"

Jacqui knit her brow, giving Tess a searching look. "Dentists?"

"I mean, my father is a dentist. I could write about dentists." Tess wiped her hands on her pants. She felt cold, although she was sweating.

"Tess, are you all right?"

"Jacqui, I don't think I can do this."

"Hey." Jacqui reached out to place a hand on Tess's hand. She was trying to meet Tess's gaze, but Tess looked away. Jacqui gently shook Tess's hand. "Tess?"

Tess was finding it hard to breathe. It felt like a balloon was stuck in her throat, right above her collarbone. It was cutting off her ability to take in a deep, full breath, and that deep, full breath was all Tess wanted. She was desperate for it—desperate to breathe.

Breathing is a simple thing. People take it for granted until they can't do it any more.

Leaning over slightly, Tess tried to pull in the breath she craved, tried to inflate her lungs, but all she could get was a shallow, unsatisfying gasp of air.

Jacqui stood up, pulling Tess with her. "We need to go to the bathroom. I'll be two steps behind you."

On feet she could not feel, Tess walked out of the computer lab. It felt like she was floating. Ms. Keene was perched on a bench in the library. She looked up as Tess walked by. "Tess?"

"Feeling a little ill," Tess said. The words came from somewhere else, from someone else. "Just need a drink of water, please."

"Go on." Ms. Keene's expression was curious and concerned. "Do you need me to come with you?"

"No. Thanks. I'm okay." Tess moved to the door of the library as the world floated around her.

Tess had had her share of panic attacks. Sometimes she could control them. She tried to think, tried to focus her mind on the techniques her therapist had taught her for fending off an attack, but her mind was a blur. Tears burned in the back of her throat and, crazily, all she could focus on was: I can't let anyone see me like this. I have to stop. I have to stop.

But the panic was out of her control. She slumped against the wall, drawing ragged breaths, and closed her eyes.