“Next semester’s project will be the same, except you will select someone not found in our textbook,” she said.

I knew immediately who my presentation would be about next semester. Choosing someone not in our book was going to be even easier than choosing a textbook person, because I’d already started studying. I’d been reading about my person since I’d first heard her mentioned in a documentary on the National Geographic channel (the channel I always watch whenever I stay home sick). That’s the way you learn about things they don’t teach you in school, everything from vampire squid to this scientist from the early twentieth century. Her name was Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin. She was an astronomer.

“What?” Dustin said. “But how do we know who to study if they’re not in the textbook?”

Ms. Trepky put her hands behind her back. “You have vast resources available to you, Mr. Pierce, including the internet and, dare I say it, the library.” She put a hand on our textbook. “In fact, this project is inspired by a real-life scenario. The Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC, is hosting a contest, where students from all over the country write a letter about a lesser-known or underrated woman from American science history. They’re creating a Women in STEM exhibit, with wax figures representing the underrated women. For the purposes of this class, I think it’s a valuable exercise to research those whose contributions to our society are equally as important as the contributions of those who might get more acclaim.”

I put the clicking-end of my pen between my teeth. The wax figure of Cecilia was beautiful in my mind, and I could see her smooth, dark hair and pale, piercing eyes. Writing a letter about her would be totally easy. I looked around at the other kids, wondering who they’d pick from outside our textbook. We’re already a step ahead, aren’t we, Cecilia? What would you think of bringing in star-shaped Rice Krispies Treats for the presentation? I could imagine those clear eyes twinkling in response.

Dustin opened his mouth, probably to complain again, and I opened mine to ask if seventh graders were allowed to submit a letter to the Smithsonian contest, but right then there was a knock on the classroom door. It was Ms. Lopez, the principal, and she had a girl with her. The girl had a round face and the longest, thickest hair I had ever seen. She would be the tallest, and I thought the most beautiful, person in our class.

I rolled my pen around my desk, smiling. How many wonderful surprises could fit in one day?

“Excuse me, Ms. Trepky,” said Ms. Lopez. “May I interrupt for a second?”

“Please, come in,” Ms. Trepky said, and stepped behind her desk.

Ms. Lopez brought the girl to the front of the room. “This is Talia Latu,” she said. She said it with the LI emphasized, like TaLEEuh. Not TAH-lia. “She’ll be in Ms. Trepky’s homeroom with many of you, and in this History class. Please make sure she feels as welcome as you’d hope to be.”