Cleo bent over her notes, scanning the first page then checking it against the book.

"July, 1944," she berated herself. "Not November."

"Who really cares?" Drew (unfortunately, Cleo's study partner) looked bored. "The test will be multiple choice, anyway."

Cleo didn't bother looking up. They'd been through this argument enough times over the course of the hour that she could probably recite it in her sleep. "We still need to know it," She said and left it at that. Stressing the importance of education just didn't work with Drew. Drew didn't care about school, she didn't care what grade she got on the next history quiz. Cleo, however, did.

"As if," Drew snorted. "I'm not going to be a historian, so what's the point?" Then, in an even snottier tone, Drew added, "You are such a know-it-all. I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be Athena herself."

"Please, Drew, just leave me to my studying and I'll leave you to your…" Cleo finally glanced over at the other girl. "Nail painting."

"Works for me," Drew agreed, "if you'd just stop mumbling to yourself."

Cleo scowled. "Fine. I'll try and be more conscious of that."

Cleo locked eyes with Sadie across the library. Cleo's history teacher and Sadie's English teacher had both booked library tables on the same day.

Help? Sadie mouthed, offering.

Cleo took in the state of her and Drew's table. Her notes all spread out, and Drew's nail polish balancing precariously on the edge of the table. She gave in.

Yes, please.

Sadie stood and, abandoning her own class, strode over. "Hey, Drew. Enjoying yourself?" Sadie's tone was conversational, though not exactly friendly.

"Absolutely. Having the time of my life, in fact." Drew screwed the top onto the paint jar. She tucked it back into her bag, then looked up at Sadie, who hadn't moved. "Is there something you want?"

"You could always run to the opposite side of the Earth and never come back," Sadie shrugged. "But, I get the feeling that's not going to happen, so I'll settle for the opposite side of the library."

"Whatever," Drew rolled her eyes. "Have fun with Cleo and her World War II notes. I know I did."

"Well, you have fun with your D in history." Sadie shot at her retreating form. She plunked down in Drew's abandoned seat and wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. It smells like cheap perfume over here."

"Thanks," Cleo said. "She was driving me crazy."

"She drives everyone crazy." Sadie brushed off the gratitude. "So, World War II, huh?"

"Yeah." Cleo affirmed. "You?"

"'The Great Gastby'." Sadie sighed. "It's about a guy named Gastby. And, if you ask me, he isn't so great."

"It's not such a bad book." Cleo shrugged.

"Maybe not for you, but I never even liked reading in the first place. How am I supposed to live through a book that's, like, a thousand years old?"

"It was written in the 1920's, Sadie." Cleo gave a small smile. "That's hardly a thousand years old."

"Miss Kane," Mr. Beal snapped, his tall form approaching their table. "Would you care to explain what you're doing on this side of the library?"

"Just helping out a friend, sir." Sadie told him.

Mr. Beal narrowed his eyes at Cleo. "This isn't social time, ladies. Get back to work."

I know, it's not much. But oh well. I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it.