I was so caught up in Mr. Sanderson’s lecture, I didn’t even hear the bell until the students around me began shutting their Chromebooks. “Quiz on Monday,” he shouted over the chaos. “We’ll finish up our medieval segment and move on to the Renaissance period. Get ready for nudity, people, and if there are any juvenile snickers, I’ll send you to the principal.”

I laughed along with the girl beside me and we shared a glance. She was pretty quiet but seemed just as into the history of art class as I was. Too many students said they’d picked it for an easy A, but I couldn’t wait to begin delving deeper.

“He’s pretty funny,” she said. She wore her dark hair caught up in a casual ponytail, and her black-framed glasses gave her a cool, artsy look. “Personally, my dream is to see the statue David in person. I heard it’s bigger than you think—all parts.”

Her wink made me grin. “Actually, I got to see it this summer. I went to Italy.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Shut. Up. That’s the coolest vacay ever. I got stuck at Sesame Place for my younger sister. Am I right? Is it epic?”

I nodded, the memory sparking something warm inside. “Yeah, it was. And it was really big, and under this amazing golden spotlight so you got to spend as much time as you wanted studying it. The Pietà was behind glass but still pretty cool.”

She shook her head and stuck her papers and Chromebook in her backpack. “I’m so jealous. Hey, do you paint too, or do you just appreciate art?”

I laughed again. There was something about her that gave off an easy vibe but felt real. I’d backed off from Bonnie and Claire this year, not able to take the fakeness anymore. They couldn’t believe I was taking an elective instead of getting out of school early, and they bitched nonstop about their boring summer. I was pretty much over both of them. “I never really tried to paint,” I said. “Do you?”

“I try, even though I suck. But it’s fun. My friend Tracey and I are doing an art class on Saturday mornings—the new workshops start next week.” She hesitated, glancing at me with a bit of wariness, like she was afraid I’d suddenly mock her. “You can join us, if you want. Tracey’s really cool. Afterward, we can go for lunch at the café—I’m a vegetarian and they have some really good stuff. If you want. Oh crap, my name’s Brianna, by the way. In case you didn’t know.”

Normally, I’d be nice but make up some excuse. It was easier to stay in my comfort zone. “Yeah, I’d love it,” I said. “My name’s Allegra.”