there,” the girl announced.
Claudia shuffled her notes, unmoored. Was this a challenge or an invitation for intellectual debate? “That’s something we can discuss in a different class. But today, let’s move ahead to this hotel room scene, which we’ll see is shot entirely in the dark.” She hit PLAY on the remote, cutting off any further conversation.
When the bell rang a half hour later, Penelope didn’t head toward the door with the rest of her classmates but worked her way toward the stage. She stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, scratching one calf with the toe of her sneaker while Claudia chatted with Mary Hernandez.
Mary had brought Claudia some sort of home-baked pastry, a flattened disk filled with quince paste. She offered it shyly to Claudia in a fragrant, butter-stained bag that read Chicken Kitchen. “It’s not really from the Chicken Kitchen,” she apologized. “I just work there.”
“It smells delicious,” Claudia said.
“I’m really excited about this class, Mrs. Munger,” Mary continued, and tugged at the thick braid that she had pulled over her shoulder. She had a gap between her front teeth that hadn’t been fixed by orthodontia and a broad forehead freckled with adolescent acne. “I watched the Film Noir series at the Egyptian this summer to prepare. Though I work most evenings so I missed a few. Murder, My Sweet and The Glass Key. I read that they aren’t considered particularly seminal, though.”
Behind Mary, Penelope snorted quietly; perhaps the girl was just clearing her throat.
“We’re not really going to be covering classic noir in this class,” Claudia said, distracted. She watched Penelope out of the corner of her eye, worried that she would grow tired of waiting and flee. “We’re looking at American cinema after the nineteen sixties.”
“Oh.” Mary looked distressed, as if mentally counting the paychecks she’d wasted on movie tickets. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. It’s never a waste of time to learn more about film,” Claudia said.
“I’m applying to UCLA next year,” Mary continued. “I was hoping I could talk to you about your experience there? I read your bio on IMDB, and I know you attended. It would be so great if you could write me a recommendation, Mrs. Munger. We could schedule something now, if you have a minute.”
Penelope checked her watch and edged back toward the door, losing her patience. Claudia felt opportunity slipping away—this could be her one and only chance to foster a connection with Penelope. “Recommendations already?” Claudia demurred. “Let’s wait until we’re a little further into the semester, so we can get to know each other. We have plenty of time.”
“Actually—”
But Claudia had already beckoned Penelope up the stairs with the one hand, jiggling the paper bag gratefully with the other. “We’ll talk soon, Mary. And thanks for the pastry.”
Penelope climbed up the stairs toward Claudia, maneuvering around Mary Hernandez as if she were a roadblock planted in her path. She came to a stop directly in front of Claudia, blocking Mary. Mary stared at the back of Penelope’s head for a long moment and then quietly melted away. Claudia barely noticed her leave until she heard the classroom door click behind her.
“Mrs. Munger,” Penelope began.
“Claudia is fine,” Claudia said, eager to slide past their earlier, unsettling encounter. “No need to stand on ceremony. I’m not a formalist.”
Penelope scrutinized Claudia. Her fiddling hands had woven her curly hair into a knotty-looking beehive, and it flapped over the girl’s eyes. “What was the name of the last film you made?” she asked, pushing the hair aside.
Claudia smiled. This was more like it. “Spare Parts.”
“Oh.” Penelope snapped a piece of fluorescent pink gum between her teeth. “I never heard of it?”
Claudia tried to prevent a grimace from rippling across her face. “It’s a love triangle, between two girls and a guy. It takes place in the organ transplant ward of a hospital. It’s an homage to Howard Hawks, and the snappy dialogue that was popular in prewar cinema.”
“Did it go, like, straight to video or something?”
“No. It was in movie theaters.”
“Oh? When did it come out?” Penelope tilted her head to assess her teacher. Claudia could sense the girl sizing her up but couldn’t quite interpret the conclusion Penelope had come to.
Claudia smiled warmly, determined to be the one person at Ennis Gates that could break through Penelope’s armor. “The end of July.”
Penelope looked surprised. “And it’s already not in theaters anymore?”
Claudia picked up the whiteboard eraser, feeling defensive. “No, but I could bring you a screener, if