look and see Quint standing beside me, his arms crossed. I can’t read his expression, but it’s almost like he’s saying to our teacher, See? This is what I’ve had to put up with.
I straighten my spine and sniff so hard it makes the back of my sinuses throb, but at least it keeps the tears from falling. “Please,” I say. “You told us this project is worth thirty percent of our grade, and I cannot have it pulling my average down. There must be some way to fix this. Can I do it over?”
“Miss Barnett,” Mr. Chavez says, sounding cautious, “have you even read your report?”
I blink. “My report?”
He flicks his fingers against the cover. “Quint’s name isn’t the only one on there. Now, clearly, you two have struggled to work together. You’ve probably struggled more than any other team I’ve ever had in this class. But surely you at least read the report. Didn’t you?”
I don’t move. I don’t speak.
Mr. Chavez’s gaze slips to Quint, full of disbelief, then back to me. He chuckles and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Well. That explains some things.”
I look down at the report in my hands, for the first time curious as to what’s in it.
“If I allow you a do-over,” our teacher says, “then I need to offer the same chance to everyone.”
“So?” I swoop my hand back toward the class, which is still half empty. “None of them will take it.”
He frowns, even though we both know it’s true. Then he heaves another sigh, longer this time, and looks at Quint. “How about you, Mr. Erickson? Are you interested in resubmitting your project?”
“No!” I yell, at the same time Quint starts laughing as if this were the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I glance at him, aghast, and try to turn my shoulder to him as I face Mr. Chavez again. “I didn’t mean … I’d like to do the report again. Just me this time.”
Our teacher starts to shake his head, when Quint catches his breath and adds, “Yeah, nope. I’m good. Perfectly happy with the C, thank you.”
I gesture at him. “See?”
Mr. Chavez shrugs hopelessly. “Then, no. I’m sorry.”
His words crash into me, and now I feel like I’m the one having difficulty translating. “No? But you were just going to—”
“Offer you both the chance to resubmit it, if you would like to. And”—he raises his voice, looking around at the class—“anyone else who feels they didn’t complete the assignment to the best of their abilities and would like one more chance. But … this is a team project. Either the whole team works to improve their score, or it doesn’t count.”
“But that’s not fair!” I say. The whining in my voice makes me cringe. I sound like Ellie. But I can’t help it. Quint says he won’t do it. I shouldn’t have to rely on him, one of the laziest people I’ve ever met, just to bring up my own grade!
Behind me, Quint snickers, and I turn blazing eyes to him. He quickly falls silent, then turns on his heel and saunters back to our table.
Mr. Chavez starts to scribble something onto the whiteboard. I lower my voice as I step closer. “I want a different teammate, then,” I say. “I’ll do it with Jude.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Prudence. Like it or not, Quint is your teammate.”
“But I didn’t choose him. I shouldn’t be punished for his lack of motivation. And you’ve seen how he’s always late. He certainly doesn’t care about this class or marine biology or this project!”
Mr. Chavez stops writing and faces me. I want to believe that he’s reconsidering his position, but something tells me that’s not it. When he speaks, my irritation only continues to rise with every word.
“In life,” he says, speaking slowly, “we rarely get to choose the people we work with. Our bosses, our peers, our students, our teammates. Heck, we don’t even get to choose our families, other than our spouses.” He shrugs. “But you have to make do. This project was as much about figuring out a way to work together as it was about marine biology. And I’m sorry, but you and Quint didn’t do that.” He raises his voice, speaking to the class again. “Anyone wanting to resubmit their project can email their revised papers to me by August fifteenth, and must include a summary of how the work was divided.”
My teeth clench. I realize I’m gripping the binder, squeezing it