Lucy felt her cheeks burn. “She is.”
Mrs. Holloway, their teacher, stood beside the smartboard in a cardigan with little embroidered acorns at the collar. She was the kind of woman who smiled with her teeth when parents were watching and sighed with her whole body when they weren’t. A moment earlier she had been encouraging, calling the assignment “a wonderful opportunity to honor the people who inspire us.” Now she looked uncomfortable.
“Well,” she said, drawing the word out the way adults do when they’re stepping around something they don’t want to touch, “that is certainly… creative.”
“It’s not creative,” Lucy said.
A few kids laughed harder.
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