Her Name in the Sky by Kelly Quindlen

things.”
    “Amen,” Joanie says, and Luke nods vigorously at her side. Wally regards Michele with a thoughtful look on his face—the one Hannah has seen him wear when he tries to solve a challenging new calculus problem—and Baker, when Hannah shifts her head to look at her, wears the same expression Hannah has seen her wear many times before: the one that means her heart is battling with her head, that her instinct to empathize is wrestling with her compulsion to keep social order.
     
    Mrs. Shackleford announces an impromptu assembly the next morning. Hordes of students sweep into the gym and plop themselves down on the bleachers, and Mrs. Shackleford and Father Simon stand in the middle of the gym floor, their eyes watching every movement.
    Mrs. Shackleford speaks for three minutes about the standards of behavior she expects from St. Mary’s students. She never mentions Clay’s Mardi Gras party, but the sophomores, juniors, and seniors avert their eyes, all of them understanding the message. Only the freshmen look blankly around at each other, and Hannah, sitting on the end of a row in the senior section, hears a freshman several feet away whisper, “Is this about Marshall passing around that dirty cat comic yesterday?”
    Then Father Simon steps forward to address the gym. He stands still with his left hand gripping his right elbow and his fingers raised to his lips, as if figuring out how to counsel a death-row prisoner. He remains silent for a full 30 seconds, until the freshmen start to rustle in their bleachers, and then he raises his head, finally looking around at them all, his expression solemn.
    “Here we go,” Hannah mutters under her breath.
    Father Simon berates them for a quarter of an hour. “I’m disgusted,” he tells them. “I am at a loss for what to say. And to think that this behavior took place right on the cusp of Lent, and when we’re in the midst of a competition for the Diocesan Cup….”
    Mrs. Shackleford stands off to his side, her expression hard to read. Across the gym, Ms. Carpenter sits with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed. 
    Five minutes into the lecture, Hannah looks over at Clay. His cheeks have colored with only the lightest tinge of pink. When he catches Hannah looking at him, he takes his hand away from his mouth and chews on a smile like he’s about to burst out laughing.
    The student body is unusually quiet after the assembly. They return to their classrooms without talking much, the boys walking with their hands in their pockets and the girls tugging insistently on the sleeves of their sweaters. But many of the seniors smirk knowingly at Clay and nod conspiratorially at Hannah, Baker, Wally, Luke, and Joanie, and there is an inherent understanding that the whole thing is a big joke rather than anything to worry about.
    They cross paths with Michele when they reach the senior hallway. She has the grace to look ashamed when she sees them. “Clay,” she says, her voice barely audible, “I—”
    “Don’t even,” Clay says, cutting her off. He pushes past her, and Hannah and her friends follow, and Michele stands limply at the lockers, her head bowed against the looks of revulsion the other seniors throw her.
     
    The bell rings for second block, and Hannah and Baker step into their English classroom to find their classmates leaning on the backs of their chairs and complaining to each other. Hannah joins in with the griping and gossiping while Baker sits with her chin on her hand, her brow furrowed as she absorbs her friends’ outrage.
    Ms. Carpenter shuts the door to signal the start of the class period, and the murmuring in the room trails off. Ms. Carpenter leans against the door with a funny smile on her face. “I guess we didn’t enjoy the assembly, huh?” she says.
    Hannah’s classmates launch into loud complaints. Ms. Carpenter’s eyebrows arch comically as she listens to them all.
    “Okay,” she says. “So you all didn’t appreciate Father