“Since you’re stuck here for the next month, you might want to think about what would make the rest of your high school experience meaningful.” The intercom rings and Evelyn frowns up at it.

“Will all seniors please report to the auditorium, all seniors to the auditorium,” the secretary drawls.

“All right, tomorrow we’ll pick up where we left off,” Evelyn says amid the noise of everyone getting out of their seats. “That’s something you can all be thinking about,” she adds. “A meaningful rest of high school!”

I take my sweet time putting my two school supplies into my backpack just in case the timing would work out for Brendan and me to walk out the door together. It doesn’t.

“If I don’t get valedictorian, none of this shit will be meaningful,” Abigail says, linking her arm in mine as we walk out.

It’s a prime opportunity to ask her for help with my essay, but instead what comes out is, “Honestly, I think I’ll be happy with my high school experience as long as I don’t have to take a feral cat to prom.”

“’ello, love,” Hilary says, British accent in full swing when Abigail and I take the two seats next to her in the auditorium. The room is dark, but not dark enough to hide Gene and Helga canoodling in the back row. A few rows over from us, Brendan’s taking a seat, and for some reason I remember how he laughed in the hospital and his fake mustache went askew. Don’t worry, that’s natural after a breakup. The heart goes haywire.

“The time has come, seniors,” Mr. Garcia says, sitting on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling off, “to finalize groups and trip plans for Nicaragua. As you know, this is a rare opportunity that the Gill School provides to build homes in devastated areas, work with local children—”

I smooth one of my unruly frizzies down and look back at Gene involuntarily.

“You okay, Cham?” Abigail asks, peering around me to look at him. “Want me to mince and sauté his balls?”

“Ew.” I slink down in the felt chairs. “I’m hunky-dory, just want high school to be over.”

Abigail and Hilary share a glance that I pretend not to notice. “Come on, Cham, you can’t only be excited about prom and graduation and stuff when you have a boy,” Hilary says.

Easy for her to say. For everyone else, life going on means life getting closer to Big Things, and none of those involve more aides, more medication—or in the worst scenario, none of those things at all.

“In leaving cell phones behind and immersing ourselves in the work at hand, we’re giving our full presence and attention to helping,” Mr. Garcia says, then signals to someone at the back of the room to turn the lights off and start the PowerPoint. The first slide tells us that the following presentation will cover everything from how to drink water in other countries to which types of mosquitoes ruin your chances of reproduction tenfold.