“Thanks.”

“I can definitely extend the deadline on your essay when you’re having such a hard time at home, and I’m glad to hear you got some tutoring on it, but the video won’t work.”

“Darn,” I say. I can see over Evelyn’s shoulder into the classroom. Brendan’s got a fortress of books stacked on his desk.

“Get a written version to me by the last day of class, okay?” Evelyn says, obstructing my view with a subtle shift of her body. “I don’t want you to miss out on Nicaragua.”

I turn toward the door, hoping that’s all she wanted to talk about. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

She looks at me with those shovel eyes that threaten to probe your depths and churn up all your funky soil. “How’s your final project coming? Have you started your outside research?”

“Um.”

“Never mind, don’t answer that. Do you know what you’d like your statement to be?”

I look down at my feet: two combat boots nearly covering two rather sallow-looking socks.

“I don’t know,” I say, gazing down the hall to where a pair of freshmen have clambered up the stairs and are starting to make out. “Literally, I have no idea.”

“Get to class,” Evelyn calls to them, then smiles at me with a shake of her head. “Living in the questions is good.”

Why do teachers always speak in sentences that don’t make sense?

“How about if for now you don’t worry about forming a cohesive project. Just write down whatever questions you have, no matter how small or seemingly silly.”

“Like just write down all my questions?” She nods. “Sure, I can do that.” That’s the most manageable thing she’s asked of me all year.

“Good! I’ve been thinking about what you said about high school and beyond high school and the moon. I like that you went there, Cham,” she says as I subtly inch toward the classroom door, the noise inside having gotten louder and louder as Evelyn’s been out here talking to me. “A lot of people just want to get a good grade, and they’re afraid of offending me or something, but sometimes I think you have to be a little offensive to really learn something.” She pauses and reconsiders. “Well, maybe not. All I’m saying is that a lot of philosophy came out of realizing just how strange normal life is. Keep thinking. And don’t forget to be researching an outside source too, okay?”

“Sure,” I sigh, glaring up at the sign reminding seniors to get caps and gowns ordered before graduation. “Likelihood that I’ll pass your class?”

A particularly loud laugh reaches the hallway, and Evelyn opens the door. “Quiet down, everyone,” she says, then turns to me. “Just give it everything you can, okay? I know you want to go to Nicaragua.”

“Right, yes, of course.”

Because I definitely want to be stuck in a foreign country for six weeks with my ex-boyfriend and no way of knowing if my dad is dead.