Endure for Today

THREE

Teeth digging into her lower lip, Nalani furrowed her brows in thought and narrowed her eyes at the question. The eraser of her mechanical pencil thudded silently against the corner of the paper. They were given a short quiz after reviewing the material about Cardinal Richelieu that they studied last week, and she thought she was doing quite well with it.

Emphasis on thought.

But after completing the ten multiple answer choices, she stumbled upon the horrifying sight of three open-answer questions on the back. Printed in bold lettering on the top, they had to answer the question correctly in a four-sentence paragraph. Luckily, the first one was easy, being a repetition of a previous question that only required a bit more thought about the context. The second one was slightly more complicated, and Nalani isn't one-hundred percent certain that she had answered it correctly, even as her thoughts hovered around the information that she believed was correct in her memory.

Now, however, the final question was stumping her.

How did Richelieu's absolutist beliefs impact his stance towards the Huguenots?

Honestly, Nalani understands that history is an important subject, but she held no true passion towards it. What did she care about a political figure like Richelieu? Yes, the historical figure was incredibly intelligent – first the College de Navarre, then military school, and then the College de Calvi, all before he was twenty-one – and had admirable ambition, but at this point in time, the only way he was affecting her life was by dropping her brain on a skillet of butter and frying it up. If she hears even another mention of the name Richelieu, Nalani is positive that her brain will grow arms, pry her scalp open, and escape.

Okay, Nalani, think. What do you know about this man?

Musing over all that she's learned about him – like waging war at La Rochelle and the Edict of Grace and the beef with the Huguenots – Nalani tried her best to write out a decent paragraph to answer. The second the last period was dotted into place, she flipped the paper over, double-checked that her name was written on the top, and then stood to place her quiz on Mrs. Dali's desk.

The woman peered up at her through the round frames of her glasses, offering a proud, pretty smile. One that Nalani couldn't help but return.

"Can I go to the library for the rest of the period?" she asked quietly, chancing a glance over her shoulder to check that she wasn't disturbing the other students with her voice. Many others had already completed their quizzes before her and were going about their own business, idling away time, but a few had requested to go elsewhere. Hopefully, Mrs. Dali was generous to her, too. "Is that allowed?"

"Of course, Nalani," Mrs. Dali whispered back. Sliding open a drawer in her desk, the woman pulled out a notepad of green paper and, after pulling her pen from behind her ear, started writing. "Just be sure to show this to Mr. Velasquez so he knows you have permission to be there. Have a good lunch, dear."

Gratefully accepting the green slip, Nalani gave her another smile and nodded. "You too, Mrs. Dali."

There was probably around fifteen minutes left of class. Then students assigned Lunch B – the upperclassmen – would be released for lunch while Lunch A students – underclassmen – were returned to their classes. She thinks the visiting eighth graders were assigned lunch during this period, as well. Wasn't that something that was mentioned during first period by Mr. Moran? Maybe.

Whatever. It's not as if she cared much. Nalani hasn't spotted a single glimpse of the touring middle school students since school started. None of them were brought to any of the classes on her schedule to observe the dutifully working high school students.