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Everyone nods in unity. Even though Jase nods, his eyebrows furrow, and he makes a face as if it’s his first time hearing this.

“For the first hour of this session, you’re all going to figure out a strategy to help you memorize each word. It can be anything—an image or a rhyme, or another word that starts with the same letter.” He hands out the presumed vocabulary sheets to each row. “And be prepared to share.”

I tighten my lips. Once I get my sheet, I study the list, the vocabulary words in one column, their definitions in the other. I flip to a blank page in my notebook and illustrate for each word. I’m not an artist, and even though all my illustrations are basic—they’re practically sketches—I still draw anyway.

Ten minutes pass. Mr. Daniels works his way down each row. He asks us to share two strategies, so I look through my list and finalize my decision.

“Emilyn,” Mr. Daniels says, his tone louder than the one he’s been using for everyone else, like some reminder that I need to project.

“One of my words is virulent, which means poisonous,” I say in an uncomfortably louder-than-usual tone. Mr. Daniels grins like he’s taught something that has truly paid off, how satisfying. “It starts with a v, just like venom, and I instantly think of an ivy plant.” I keep my notebook on my desk, refusing to show my illustrations.

“Very good.” Mr. Daniels still has that same tone as some sort of reminder for me to keep talking at that same volume. “Share one more.”

I feel better, more confident, hearing this, and as I talk about the next word, I raise my voice. “And teem, which means abundant, sounds exactly like team, except they’re spelled differently. There’s an abundant number of people on a team, so I just have to think of a sports game whenever teem spelled with two e’s comes up.”

“Great! We can all remember what those words mean just by thinking of those images, right?” Everyone says, “Yeah.” Jase nods like a bobble head that’s been shaking so much it can’t stop moving. Mr. Daniels adds, “See what happens when you project? You teach the class everything you know.”

I straighten my back, feeling ready to talk more. I got this.

“You’re Aprilette’s sister, right?” Mr. Daniels asks.

This is a question I always dread. I feel like I should be flattered by it. But if anyone were to look at the smile pasted on my face, they’d see all the glue oozing underneath it. Once that question is asked, I have to be just like her.

“Yes,” I confirm.

“You’re very smart, just like your sister.”

Sometimes I wonder if people only think I’m smart because of who my Atè is. The last four words echo into my ears, reverberating to remind me that I will always be known as Aprilette Padilla’s little sister. Not Emilyn Padilla.

“Thank you.” I sew a smile while Mr. Daniels flashes me a genuine one.

Now it’s Jase’s turn. There’s some tension in his body. “One word I have is syco-pu-hant.”

Several snickers sputter through the room. Jase turns his head from left to right, wondering what’s so funny.

“Sy-co-fant,” Mr. Daniels enunciates each syllable. Jase just stares at him. “The p-h-a-n-t part is pronounced fant.”

Red tinges Jase’s face. “Oh.”

Mr. Daniels’s face is stiffened, like he’s holding in a sigh. I look at Jase with concern. It’s not fair to be humiliated twice. Jase isn’t even laughing with them, so clearly he doesn’t find it funny. Just humiliating. I wish I could tell everyone, especially Mr. Daniels, to shut up. Instead, I seal my mouth shut, choosing to stay silent. To be the only one who doesn’t laugh.

“Well,” Jase starts, “it means ‘suck up,’ and that sounds a lot like the first part, syc. I also have penurious, which means ‘cheap and stingy.’ The first part sounds like ‘penny,’ and anything cheap is probably worth a penny.”

Mr. Daniels nods, then says to the girl in front of Jase, “Your turn.”

Jase thins his mouth and studies his notebook paper like it has all the wrong answers.

I wait until Mr. Daniels reaches whoever’s near the front, then whisper, “Hey, Jase.” His head swivels my way. “Those are great ways to remember those words.”

Surprise washes over his face, a smile curving upwards like a parabola. “Thanks! You had great ones, too.”

Time drags on for the entirety of the reading and math sessions. Once Mrs. Sanderson dismisses us, Jase hands me back my pencil.

I step out into the parking lot, the sunlight blasting me with one-hundred-degree heat. It feels like I’ve been let out for the first time in over a decade.

“Emilyn?”

At this point, I already recognize Jase’s voice, deep and gentle every time he speaks. When I turn around, there he stands, hole ripped in shirt, exposing a circle of a white tee beneath. I’m beginning to wonder if he owns any shirts that don’t have holes, and how he still looks handsome even with ripped clothes.