peak of their 'erection,' if you will, what does Eliot do to them?"
There was only one answer, and I wished I could say it without blushing. Still, I didn't hesitate. "He lets the images go flaccid."
Mr. Woodward thrust the Bat into the air. "The woman is correct! In just the first stanza, this is what we're learning about J. Alfred Prufrock. Metaphorically, this is a man who can't keep it up. He can't make a decision, he won't face tough choices, and though he feels the longing pull of his hopes and dreams, he's too paralyzed to do anything about them!"
Wow. The entire class was riveted. The next forty minutes flew. By the time the bell rang, several of us had gotten so involved in fervent Prufrock talk that we weren't even sitting on our chairs anymore—we'd migrated to the tops of the tables. That never would have been allowed at Pennsbrook, but I guess here it was part of the whole charter-school-teachers'-and-students'- creative-thinking thing. Whatever it was, I liked it. And although poetry had never been my thing, I was now willing to make an exception for anything by T. S. Eliot.
As we filed out of the classroom, Archer asked what I had next. "Precalc," I said.
"Ah," said Archer, "I was hoping it might be geometry. More opportunity for you to talk about verticals."
"Ooh, you're right. Bummer." I looked at my schedule. "I have art fourth period, though; I could propose we erect a statue on campus."
"Not bad." Archer nodded. "Or you might want to come to my seventh period theater class. We're going to do some directing."
I winced.
"Too big a stretch?" he asked.
"Too big a stretch."
Archer glanced down at my schedule. "We both have fifth period lunch. Maybe I'll see you then. I promise I'll work on being more clever."
He gave me directions to my next class, then disappeared down the hall in the other direction.
This was great. I'd had an amazing class, I was maybe making a friend ... things were going well. Maybe I wouldn't even need the Ladder. It's not like I had to be Supreme Populazzi. One or two good friends, that would do it. Two—so I wouldn't be totally lost if one was out sick. Two people to hang with between classes and at lunch. I'd be happy with that.
I took a seat in precalc and was pulling out my notebook when a breeze of fruity vanilla-jasmine made me look up. The Supreme Populazzi girl had just slipped into the desk in front of mine.
A bolt of panic surged through me as I remembered her look of disgust when she saw me through the window. I slunk down in my seat.
What was she doing in here, anyway? Was she a junior? I'd assumed she was a senior.
Whatever. It would be fine. As long as she didn't turn around, it would be fine.
"Trista!" a guy behind me called out.
She turned around and—looked right at me.
No!
But Trista's eyes passed right over me, then locked on the person who'd called her. "Hey!"
Wait ... had she not recognized me?
Or maybe she and her boyfriend had never actually seen me. It wasn't like their tree was right next to the window. Maybe they'd been making faces at something else entirely.
Whatever it was, I'd totally dodged a bullet.
"Sweet party Saturday," the guy told her. "You rock."
"Thanks," she said.
That opened the floodgates. Now half the room piped up to tell Trista how much they'd loved her party. The other half—clearly the Happy Hopeless and Cubby Crews who hadn't made the cut—looked out the window or down at their books and pretended to ignore the conversation.
I was impressed that Trista herself didn't talk about the party at all. She let everyone else rave about it, and she was nice and thanked them, but she didn't go into it or anything. It was like she knew the other people wished they'd been invited and she didn't want to rub it in. It was cool.
I wondered what she'd do if I introduced myself. Would she say hi? If she did, what would I say back? What could I say that would be interesting to a Supreme Populazzi?
I spent the entire class trying to think of the perfect conversation starter, but since "So have you always been the most popular girl in class?" was unforgivably lame, I let it go.
After precalc I had study hall, then the whole school got a fifteen-minute break. Most people probably welcomed this, but I dreaded it. There's nothing