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Ashlee kept her hand in the air, talking over the murmurs that broke out. “In a similar vein, you could say because we don’t have authority over decisions at Trinity, this isn’t our home. However, we have authority over ourselves, and the decisions that we, as people, are able to make. The same goes for children living in their parents’ home. They might not pay the bills, but it’s still where they live. It’s the place they look forward to going after a long day of school, their comfort place.”
Nodding, Mr. Kingston walked to the back of the room. Slowly and deliberately, he rested his elbows on Ashlee’s desk and looked her in the eye. “Did you have a happy childhood, Ashlee?”
“Yes.”
“Well, not everyone did,” Mr. Kingston declared, spinning around and flouncing back to his desk. “Mr. Jesse Ashcroft! I see you have something you’d like to contribute to this discussion.”
“Ah, yeah, I do.” Jesse cleared his throat. “A lot of people have two homes. A kid with divorced parents thinks about both places as a home. And as boarding school students, we kinda have two homes—our house and Trinity.”
“So which is more important?” his teacher asked. “The one you grew up in, or the one you create on your own?”
Jesse paused, stumped by the question. Were they still talking about houses? “Do…do I have to choose?”
“I don’t know, Jesse. That’s for you to decide.”
“Somehow I leave this class even more confused than when I entered,” Jesse grumbled, dropping his head onto his desk.
“Thank you. I have succeeded as a teacher. Raina, you want to add something?”
“I feel like there’s a similar, overarching topic we’re not discussing.” Jesse lifted his head to see Raina shifting restlessly in her desk at the front of the room. “We’re not just talking about a home. We’re talking about change.”
“Interesting. I hadn’t considered that. Keep going.”
“Sometimes, change is a good thing,” Raina went on. “Like, when you live at home for years and that home feels stifling. But then you come to Trinity, and maybe it isn’t the same type of home as the one you were previously in, but it’s a good kind of different. A good change.”
“But what if you have to give up your previous home to gain the new one?” The words left Jesse’s mouth before he even knew what he was saying, and he wasn’t done. His next words were directly for Raina. He wasn’t talking about literal homes anymore, but no one but the two of them would know. “Is it worth it?”Would choosing Raina have been worth it if he’d lost Nicole?
Raina stared at him for a long moment. “Like Mr. Kingston said earlier, do you have to pick only one?”
“Let’s say you lose the old home if you go to the new home, so yes, you have to pick.”
“Well then, I don’t like this scenario,” Raina answered defensively, her voice rising. “I’d want a situation that wouldn’t make me pick.”
“That’s not an option.” His tone matched hers.
“Well, then it sucks to be you!”
“Sucks to be the rest of us listening to this conversation!” Mr. Kingston interrupted, clapping his hands. “Okay, children, let’s move on from…whatever that was. Jesse, Raina, do you two need a minute?”
Jesse made a show of wiggling his fingers and picking up his pen. “I’m good.”
Raina didn’t reply, so Mr. Kingston began talking again. “Fabulous. Now, as we began with the topic of city-states in Italy, we must touch on why Shakespeare chose to setRomeo and Julietin Verona. I’m sure Mrs. Dixon will go into more detail, but since we were already discussing choices, we can segway a little. Fun fact—Italy was super hot!”
“It still is!” someone in the back piped up. “My family went there this summer.”
Ignoring the interruption, Mr. Kingston continued, “In Shakespeare’s time, people thought a hot environment spurred passionate behavior. Specifically Italy, which is known for romance and passion. So Renaissance readers might have assumed Romeo’s and Juliet’s passion for each other is partially due to Italian culture and weather. But that’s veering dangerously into theliteratureportion of this topic, so you can ask Mrs. Dixon about it, and I can ignore her when she complains about my going off track with the lesson plans we discussed.”
Jesse took notes as his teacher continued talking his way through the 14th century. But even though he was trying to pay attention to the lecture, his mind decided it wanted to go in other directions. Specifically, the direction of Raina Cohen—who was an extremely distracting person.
But Jesse had made his choice. Raina spoke easily of picking both, and both was all Jesse had wanted. He wanted to have his cakeandeat it. Before, he’d gotten the cake, and had the fork nearly to his mouth before it had been wrenched away. He’d been left to stare sadly after the proverbial cake ever since. But what if he could take a bite? What if he didn’t have to choose? Was that even possible?
* * *
The corridors were quiet as Raina hurried to the kosher kitchen that evening. No one was out late on a Thursday night, especially after dinner hours were long over. But for Raina, Tehilla, and Yaakov, their night was only just beginning.
The trio slipped easily into their weekly routine of Shabbat meal prep. Tehilla, the only one of them not grossed out by raw meat, would prepare the main dish. Raina and Yaakov would divvy up the sides between them, with Raina usually making some potato dish and Yaakov cooking a vegetable. This week, Raina had decided on roasted potatoes, which were pretty simple. All she had to do was peel and cut the potatoes into small pieces, before dousing them in oil and various spices. Bake at 400° for an hour and a half, and then the potatoes would be ready for Friday night dinner.
“Okay girl, spill,” Raina demanded. Taking her eyes off the potato she was peeling, she shot Tehilla a look that had the other girl sighing.
