"What did you have to call her for?" Melissa sat down at her desk with a deep sigh of dejection.

"Melissa, I don't know what you're so upset about. I simply asked her why your topic for the report wasn't acceptable," answered George.

"Why didn't you ask me what she said, Daddy? Now she's going to think that we think she doesn't like Black people."

"That is not what I said to her and you know it. And as for asking you, the only thing you told me was that she didn't like your outline and you couldn't figure out why. Only after I talked to your teacher did I find out that it wasn't the topic; it was that she felt it was too big of a subject for your report. I also found out that you didn't do the assignment like she asked you to." George sat down on the bed, hitting Melissa's eye level. She looked away.

"I didn't copy down Aimee Bidarka's stupid outline because I was writing mine."

"You were supposed to be following along with the rest of the class."

"I didn't need her stupid outline."

"Well, apparently you did, because the one you were working on instead of paying attention isn't right. Where is your outline, and the other little girl's?" George began to shuffle through some school papers on Melissa's bed.

"Wait Dad, the outlines are over here, you're messing everything up!" The anxious, annoyed feeling Melissa had since she came home from school on Friday increased as she watched George move all her papers around. She yanked open her schoolbag and pulled out the dog-eared copies of the two outlines. She tossed them to her father and they landed in front of the bed at his feet. George looked down at the papers, then over at Melissa. He stopped going through the papers on the bed and folded his hands.

"What was that?" he said after a minute.

"The outlines," Melissa said.

"Why did you throw those at me?" George asked quietly.

"Daddy, I didn't throw them, I just wanted you to see that you weren't looking in the right place..."

"Pick those up."

"Dad, I didn't mean..."

"Melissa, pick those papers up now."

Seeing that they were getting nowhere, Melissa slid off of her chair and onto the floor. She collected the outlines, lining them up neatly and held them out to her father. George didn't take them immediately but looked at her. Melissa looked down, fidgeting with the corners of the papers.

"We need to figure out exactly what the problem is here, because I can't have behavior like this," he said.

Melissa nodded mutely.

"What is going on?"

Melissa shrugged, still intent on folding the corners of the papers.

"Melissa? Tell me." George took the outlines out of her hand.

"Nothing."

George stifled a sigh, holding up Aimee's outline. "Converting to the Jewish Faith," he read.

Melissa got back up in her chair and stared out of the window. She didn't feel the need to pay attention. She'd read the dumb thing already.

"Let's talk about your outline Melissa," Mrs. Houston said, unfortunately a little too loud. She heard little snickers from a study table where Aimee, Erika Biswan and Eric Lysander were sitting. In the corner of her eye, Melissa could see Erika Biswan covering her face with a piece of notebook paper.

Melissa turned away from their direction.

"I think a Black family in America is a good topic, really. But for our purposes, it's a little too broad. Do you know what I mean by that?"

Melissa shook her head with a sigh, knowing what came next.

"What's the rule when we don't know a word?"

"Look it up!" Eric Lysander called out. While Mrs. Houston told him to mind his own outline, Melissa trudged over to her own desk for her definition tablet. The shelf with the dictionary was behind Aimee's study table; Melissa had to pass the group to get it.

"You want me to look it up for you?" Eric asked as Aimee and Erika ducked their heads, appearing to concentrate fully on their work. Erika covered her face again, her shoulders shaking as Aimee muttering, "embarrassing." She was always pretending to get mad at Eric for showing off in front of her.

"I know how to use the dictionary," Melissa said, hand on her hip, other extended. "Sorry. Here you go, heads up." Eric tossed the dictionary to Melissa. The heavy book slipped through Melissa's fingers and headed directly for her toes, which caused her to take a quick little jump backwards. Erika laughed outright as Aimee cried, "God Eric!"

"Eric Lysander! Pick that book up this instant!"

"It was an accident, Melissa. Seriously," Eric said with a glance at Mrs. Houston.

"Yeah, right," Melissa bent over and snatched up the dictionary before Eric could.

Mrs. Houston broke up the study table, sending Aimee, Eric and Erika back to their own desks. Melissa watched as the girls muttered, 'thanks a lot' to Eric. Aimee stalked over to her desk and sat down with a huff after Erika told her to control her 'boyfriend'. Good, she thought as she whipped open the dictionary to B.

"What'd you find?" Mrs. Houston returned to her desk, the chipper helper once more.

The room was quiet as Melissa read the definition of the word aloud.

"You see? Your topic is much too big for our kind of report. Let's look at your outline."

Melissa turned to look at the outline on the desk in front of them.

"No, not this one, the one we went over in class."

Melissa fidgeted, looking away. "Well, I didn't do that one because I was writing mine."

Mrs. Houston eyed her. "So you weren't paying attention while the rest of the class was working?"

"Well, I was paying attention, just, well I was just doing something different."

"But now you see the importance of following along in class, because what you have here is not what I asked for. Aimee? Could you come up here?" Mrs. Houston called during Melissa's feeble protest.

"Mrs. Houston, I understand..." Melissa was saying as her pulse raced. What did Aimee have to do with this?

"And bring your outline please?"

Melissa swung around to see Aimee shoot a confused look at Erika Biswan and pick up her outline. She walked over the Mrs. Houston's desk. When she got there, Melissa whirled back around, arms crossed.

"Aimee, we seem to have run into a problem with Melissa's outline. Could you go over what we did in class with her?"

"Um yeah..." Aimee said quietly. Melissa heard excited whispering across the room. It seemed the whole class was listening. They were certainly quiet, how else could she hear Erika's mouth by the teacher's desk? No matter, she had to stand up for herself.

"Mrs. Houston, I know what we had to do, I don't need her outline."

"Melissa..."

"This is dumb, we just talked about it! You made me look up broad!" Melissa stopped suddenly, realizing her voice was very loud. She sat back, self conscious. She knew the class was enjoying this rare excitement; Melissa Coppenhagen never spoke out in school. But she'd run screaming through the library before she'd let Aimee Bidarka teach her anything. What was Mrs. Houston trying to do to her anyway?

"Melissa, I don't happen to think this is dumb. I cannot spent the entire class time on you today. Aimee's outline is finished, and she has nothing to do except talk to Erika and Eric, who need to do their own work. So you have a choice, you may let Aimee help you, or take a zero for the assignment." Melissa looked up and saw the stern look she'd seen Mrs. Houston give Joey and Shane when they were getting in trouble. This wasn't right, Mrs. Houston always smiled. Did she think Melissa meant she was dumb? She felt her face getting hot and every pair of eyes in class boring into her back.

"Melissa? What is your decision?"

"Aimee," Melissa mumbled softly.

"Pardon me?"

"Aimee." Melissa said again. There, she'd told the whole class that Aimee was smarter than she was. Was Mrs. Houston happy now? Melissa decided she was glad she used the word dumb. Maybe she should've said stupid.

"Fine," Mrs. Houston said as Melissa quickly got up. "And Melissa?" Melissa stopped, and slowly turned. "Please put the dictionary back."

It took all of Melissa's patience not to snatch the book from Mrs. Houston's hand, but she had had enough of the spotlight today. She took the book and went back over to the study table where Aimee, Eric and Erika had been sitting. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Aimee talking to Mrs. Houston. She watched them, Mrs. Houston first talking to Aimee than nearly pushing her towards the table where Melissa was sitting. Melissa supposed in a small way Aimee was in trouble too, or she wouldn't have been made to sit with her. Well, if she couldn't talk to Mrs. Houston, she could say something to Aimee.

"Just so you know, this wasn't my idea." She snapped before Aimee could sit down.

A fleeting look of surprise crossed Aimee's face as she pulled out her chair. But when she sat down she hissed, "No duh, Melissa, I'm not stupid, everyone in the whole room could hear that. I didn't want to come over here either. I don't talk to people that hate me."

Everyone in the whole room? Aimee's words and scalding tone quieted Melissa into submission. This was too much. Melissa sat at the table, deflated, as Aimee looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Houston's desk.

"Look," she said, when she turned back around, "she's talking to Marty now. Just copy my outline down."

Melissa gingerly took the papers Aimee shoved across the table at her. Aimee rested her head on one hand. She was turned towards Melissa, but looked all over the room, waving at Erika Biswan and ignoring Eric Lysander.

"But she said..." Melissa's voice gave out as she saw Aimee give an exasperated look to Erika.

"What?" Aimee said sharply.

"Nothing," Melissa didn't look up again, and blinking back hot tears. The last thing she needed was Aimee having tear stains on her outline to show Eric and Erika.