Layla scribbles in her notepad, her perfectly arched eyebrows knitted as she waits for me to respond. From the back of the room, Dean looks at me innocently, a hint of amusement evident in the curve of his lips.

“I’m fine, Layla. Thanks for your concern. Everyone, let’s take a five-minute water break and start up again at five thirty for the final bonus round.”

Most of the students shoot up from their seats and rush out of the room. I stop Layla before she can scramble after them.

“Hang on, Ms. Young.”

She drops back onto her chair. “What’s up, Ms. P?”

“Did you get a chance to talk to your mother about my offer to give you some pieces from my business wardrobe?”

Most of the students are participating in a job fair in the fall; Layla expressed concerns about having something appropriate to wear.

Layla nods. “I did, Ms. P. Explained that you weren’t thinking of me as a charity case and had extra clothes from when you were interviewing for grad school. That satisfied her.”

“Good,” I tell her. “And it’s absolutely true. I don’t need those suits, so it would make me happy to give them to someone who could use them for their own job search. I’ll bring them in next class.”

“I appreciate it. Thank you.” She turns around in her seat and looks at Dean; after a few seconds, she twists to face me again, her knotless box braids swinging to a stop as she gives me a sly smile. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As soon as the door closes, Dean removes his jacket—which does little to lessen the formality of his attire since he’s wearing a vest underneath. “The school’s impressive, Ms. Pereira.”

The way he says my last name. Good Lord.

“There’s a steady buzz in the air,” he continues.

That’s the sound of the vibrator I’ll be using at home later this evening. It’s voice-activated, and you turned it on from here.

Oh my God.

I’m a garbage person.

Stop it, Solange!

He takes a slow turn around the room, giving me a moment to collect myself. “It’s as if everyone’s positive energy is powering the place. Feels bright. Hopeful.”

“It does, and it is,” I say, straightening.