Mary was late. I watched her walk in, smoothing back loose strands of fine gray hair with trembling, papery hands. She steadied herself for a moment before loudly apologizing to the class for her tardiness. I looked over at Mark and smirked. “I love this class. Everyone is crazy.” He scanned the room and nodded, his eyes landing on Mary as her hand shot up in response to whatever question the professor had asked. “The independent variable is on the, the Y axle, and the dependent variable is on the X axle!” Mrs. Aylward gently corrected her (“that’s axis, Mary”) and Mark and I carried on in the same way, snickering in the corner. The class ended at 8:45, and as I picked up my things to go I noticed Mary staring at me. “You’ve got it easy, girl. Laugh all you want, but keep your remarks to yourself.” I walked out to meet Mark, smoothing back my hair, my hands shaking. “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyeing my trembling hands. “Nothing,” I said, taking a cigarette from my purse and struggling to light it. “Nothing.”