musical artist unless they also have published poetry. Like Jewel.”
Like Jewel? Like “Who will sa-a-ave your soul…na na na na” Jewel? That’s poetry?
The class groans again.
“That’s enough,” Mrs. Miller says. “Now, you can do the report in pairs if you’d like but I do want to stress that each pair has to do a different poet. I do not want duplicates. So when you know which poet you would like to write about, please let me know and I will make a list.”
I glance over at Carter and back at Mrs. Miller. This is my chance. I have to take it. I shoot my hand into the air.
“Yes? Brooke?” Mrs. Miller says.
“Can I do my report on Robert Graves? He’s a mid-fifties British poet,” I add.
Mrs. Miller stares at me in astonishment for a moment. “Yes! Yes, Brooke. Great selection.” She walks to her desk, leans over, and writes down some information on a pad of paper. When she’s done, she looks back up at the class. “Anyone else?”
A quiet girl with braids, Sarah somebody, raises her hand and requests Maya Angelou. One of the guys, Tony Torelli, asks for Kurt Cobain, arguing that his personal journal was published after his death and it included some of his poetry, therefore making him a published poet. Mrs. Miller relents with a sigh and writes Kurt Cobain on her paper.
A few more students make requests for specific poets and I sit back in my seat with a happy sigh. I glance over in Carter’s direction and see him staring at me.
I turn up the right corner of my mouth in a half smile at him.
He holds up his notebook and I see a scribbled message. “Want to work together?”
Yes, yes, yes! This is what I was hoping for. Of course, I’m also hit with a wave of nerves. I can’t believe that I’m really doing this.
I raise my eyebrows and shrug, like I’m thinking about it and then nod my head like, sure. Why not?
Carter nods and mouths the word, “Cool.”
Oh yeah. VERY cool.
* * *
So, does meeting Carter after school today at the Rosehill Public Library to work on our oral report count as a date? Maybe not a romantic date (yet) but it’s at least a study date. God, I would pay the tiny remainder of my babysitting funds to get a .wav file of Carter telling Cassie that he can’t hang out with her today because he’s doing something with me . I could put it as my voicemail message on my cell phone. “Sorry, I can’t answer my phone right now but I’ll let Carter explain why…” then play the file. Or maybe put it as my ringtone. “I’m meeting Brooke after school. I’m meeting Brooke after school. I’m meeting Brooke after school.”
Of course I couldn’t do either of those things. It would be too obvious and Chris would freak out. It’s fun to think about though.
I slip into my seat next to Lizzie in Chemistry class.
“What are you so delirious about?” she asks.
“Do I look delirious?” I mean, I feel a bit delirious at how well this whole get a date with Carter plan is going. I feel so bold and brave. Like, I’m doing things that the pre-BSC, pre-pink scarf owning Brooke would never do. Saying things that the band nerd Brooke would never say. And it feels so good.
“A bit,” she says, nodding her head yes.
“I guess I am in a pretty good mood today.”
“No more Chris and Cassie problems?”
Thankfully Lizzie has been so preoccupied with her new relationship with Jacob that she has dropped the whole Cassie Patrol plan. This is the first time she’s even mentioned Cassie’s name to me in days.
“Uh-uh,” I say, feeling a teensy bit bad about lying to my best friend. But I am proactively dealing with the problem.
“Awesome! Maybe the whole Brooke and Lizzie Disney double-dating plan will actually happen then,” she says.
Ha! Yeah right. But I don’t have the heart to clear up her misconception now.
“So you and Jacob,” I start, “you’re moving ahead warp-speed, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” she says. “We’ve been
Like Jewel? Like “Who will sa-a-ave your soul…na na na na” Jewel? That’s poetry?
The class groans again.
“That’s enough,” Mrs. Miller says. “Now, you can do the report in pairs if you’d like but I do want to stress that each pair has to do a different poet. I do not want duplicates. So when you know which poet you would like to write about, please let me know and I will make a list.”
I glance over at Carter and back at Mrs. Miller. This is my chance. I have to take it. I shoot my hand into the air.
“Yes? Brooke?” Mrs. Miller says.
“Can I do my report on Robert Graves? He’s a mid-fifties British poet,” I add.
Mrs. Miller stares at me in astonishment for a moment. “Yes! Yes, Brooke. Great selection.” She walks to her desk, leans over, and writes down some information on a pad of paper. When she’s done, she looks back up at the class. “Anyone else?”
A quiet girl with braids, Sarah somebody, raises her hand and requests Maya Angelou. One of the guys, Tony Torelli, asks for Kurt Cobain, arguing that his personal journal was published after his death and it included some of his poetry, therefore making him a published poet. Mrs. Miller relents with a sigh and writes Kurt Cobain on her paper.
A few more students make requests for specific poets and I sit back in my seat with a happy sigh. I glance over in Carter’s direction and see him staring at me.
I turn up the right corner of my mouth in a half smile at him.
He holds up his notebook and I see a scribbled message. “Want to work together?”
Yes, yes, yes! This is what I was hoping for. Of course, I’m also hit with a wave of nerves. I can’t believe that I’m really doing this.
I raise my eyebrows and shrug, like I’m thinking about it and then nod my head like, sure. Why not?
Carter nods and mouths the word, “Cool.”
Oh yeah. VERY cool.
* * *
So, does meeting Carter after school today at the Rosehill Public Library to work on our oral report count as a date? Maybe not a romantic date (yet) but it’s at least a study date. God, I would pay the tiny remainder of my babysitting funds to get a .wav file of Carter telling Cassie that he can’t hang out with her today because he’s doing something with me . I could put it as my voicemail message on my cell phone. “Sorry, I can’t answer my phone right now but I’ll let Carter explain why…” then play the file. Or maybe put it as my ringtone. “I’m meeting Brooke after school. I’m meeting Brooke after school. I’m meeting Brooke after school.”
Of course I couldn’t do either of those things. It would be too obvious and Chris would freak out. It’s fun to think about though.
I slip into my seat next to Lizzie in Chemistry class.
“What are you so delirious about?” she asks.
“Do I look delirious?” I mean, I feel a bit delirious at how well this whole get a date with Carter plan is going. I feel so bold and brave. Like, I’m doing things that the pre-BSC, pre-pink scarf owning Brooke would never do. Saying things that the band nerd Brooke would never say. And it feels so good.
“A bit,” she says, nodding her head yes.
“I guess I am in a pretty good mood today.”
“No more Chris and Cassie problems?”
Thankfully Lizzie has been so preoccupied with her new relationship with Jacob that she has dropped the whole Cassie Patrol plan. This is the first time she’s even mentioned Cassie’s name to me in days.
“Uh-uh,” I say, feeling a teensy bit bad about lying to my best friend. But I am proactively dealing with the problem.
“Awesome! Maybe the whole Brooke and Lizzie Disney double-dating plan will actually happen then,” she says.
Ha! Yeah right. But I don’t have the heart to clear up her misconception now.
“So you and Jacob,” I start, “you’re moving ahead warp-speed, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” she says. “We’ve been
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