A hand shakes my shoulder.
“Huh?” I say, pulled back to reality.
Even though the lesson is almost over, my pen has yet to touch my Biology book. Lately my brain seems stuck on a Finn Masterson loop. I glance at the board: The Role of Micro-organisms in Recycling Chemical Elements in Ecosystems. I catch Miss Tillsman’s eye, then frantically scribble, anything, so she thinks I’m working.
“I asked if you wanted to come with us to see the Lovettes on Friday night?” Lauren says.
I really should start paying attention. “Oh, yeah, sure. Who are the Lovettes?”
“They’re a Motown revival band. Like the Supremes,” Sienna chips in, “but don’t let that put you off. It’ll be good. The organizers do up the hall like a sixties dance and there’s even a tin-can diner outside. Everyone dresses up. I’ve got a black and white polka-dot dress and three red petticoats to go under it. It’s going to be like, skinny, skinny, skinny,” Sienna runs her hands down her torso, “and then BAM, out at the waist in a skirt explosion.”
“Isn’t that more fifties?” Lauren asks.
“It’s more awesome, is what it is. Carla, you have to come.”
“Hmm,” I nod.
“And Gabriel Grayson is going to be there. Naked.”
“Sounds cool,” I say, drawing butterflies in my Biology book.
“Carla! Are you even listening?”
“Sorry. I, um, yeah, the Lovettes. Sixties dance. Friday.”
“Yeah. Seven o’clock. Do you want to come by my house first to get ready? Say, five?”
“You need two hours to get ready?” Lauren raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll have you know I don’t just wake up looking like this. Like some people. You look like you only need two minutes to get ready.”
“Ten minutes, actually. Four minutes of teeth-cleaning, two minutes of face-washing, one minute doing my hair, three minutes to eat breakfast.”
“How very regimented. I bet you have a timer. Carla, I can do your hair in a beehive.”
“Not a chance. But I will come.”
Miss Tillsman returns this week’s test. I shove it in my bag without even looking at the mark. The bell rings for the end of the day.