Mrs. Young said to be sure to look up and make eye contact, but I can’t bring myself to do it and instead just power through all the facts I learned about Aretha’s early life. “And when Aretha left Columbus—I mean Columbia Records—for Atlantis . . . I’m sorry, Atlantic Records, she gained more control over her career and her sound.”

Another laugh starts a low ripple through the classroom, but this time I know that laugh. I look up to see Oscar—my Oscar!—laughing as he leans over and whispers something to Alyssa that makes her laugh even harder. They’re clearly making fun of me. My eyes dart over to Kiera and she gives me a subtle thumbs-up.

“Ms. Franklin’s famous song, ‘Respect,’ became an anthem for the civil-rights movement. And—and . . .” I take a deep breath, but Oscar’s laugh echoes in my ears, and I can’t seem to find my place again.

“Take your time, Sweet Pea,” says Mrs. Young gently. “You’re doing fine.”

Her interference brings on another quiet buzz of conversation among my classmates.

I nod. “When Aretha sang at Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s memorial, her voice was a light in a very dark time. And that is still true to this day.” I glance over to Mrs. Young with her bright-orange lipstick and watermelon-print dress. She spares me a wink. “Even for me,” I add, more quietly.

I train my eyes on the rest of my presentation and force myself not to stray even if it means losing points for eye contact. I can’t believe I volunteered to go first. What was I thinking? Probably the same thing I was thinking when I thought it’d be a good idea to answer Miss Flora Mae’s letters.

I finish my presentation and the whole class claps, but only because Mrs. Young has made it clear that clapping for everyone is part of our participation grade.

“You did good,” Kiera whispers as I sit down. I know that’s not entirely true and that she’s just being nice, but hearing her say so makes me feel a tiny bit better anyway.

Kiera stands up with her beautiful and extremely professional trifold poster board about Mae Jemison, the first African American woman in space. Apparently, her mother wasn’t as excited about her K-pop star idea as Kiera was. Regardless, Kiera is a pro. Heck, she doesn’t even need to use her note cards. She’s as good at speaking in front of all of us as Mrs. Young is.

I think about how nervous I was up there and how I stumbled over my words and how much it made me feel better to see Kiera out there giving me the thumbs-up, so I try to keep eye contact while she is talking. I just can’t believe Oscar talked through my whole presentation and didn’t even laugh at my jokes. He knows there’s nothing worse than making a joke that doesn’t land. Talk about awkward. Even worse was that he laughed at the parts that weren’t even supposed to be funny! My chin begins to quiver as the tears threaten to spill. I bite down hard on my lip to keep it together.