getting ready

Two girls are huddled in front of the computer, consulting each other as they click. Their tones are hushed, too serious for homework. Too intent, too eager for anything academic, they are, I wager, instead focused on school. It's a study hall, and I give them a little time.

One asks me how to spell the name of a favorite store, and my suspicions are confirmed. The coronation dance is on the horizon and these tenth graders are somewhere between plotting and dreaming. They are girls being girls.

Right before I pull them back out of their organized fantasy--a history of cooperation and diligence buys indulgence, but only some--I watch them consult the spirit week list posted on the door and carefully copy the daily themes into a planner. A study skill in action, at least.

"M-a-r-o-o-n," spells out one to the other. "What's that?" When she's reminded, she giggles. I smile to myself at the ESL tell, and then I listen to another tale of two cultures:

"I don't even know if I'm going," admits her sixteen year-old friend, "My mom says I might need to be older." I'd be surprised if she even got to play Cinderella, knowing her mother, but I keep that thought to myself. It could happen, after all. It's possible that she'll get to live out her plans. And it's a nice thought, here for a while.