Ethan snickers.

Robin giggles.

"I don't even know why it's called English class. In elementary school it was Language Arts, and a decent fraction of the literature we study is translated from other languages, we're doing a chunk of Dostoevsky in December."

"Not the entirety of Dostoevsky? Just like his arm or something?"

"A passage from the middle of a novel," snorts Bella. "Not the whole thing, no room in the schedule."

Meanwhile, the Redcoats

are cracking up.

"I should go into standup, clearly."

Ethan giggles.

Robin snickers.

"I think you're more conversationally funny than monologue-funny," Bella tells Andi. "Maybe you could translate it, though."

"His arm," says Robin, and giggles harder.

"Dostoevsky's Arm sounds like a band name. They would play incomprehensible electronica!"

She is now laughing so hard she has to lean on Ethan to stay arguably upright.

He is not much less giggly than that. But he manages not to fall over.

"It could be a whole crossdisciplinary unit. We could dissect his arm in bio. Except he only has two, so we'd have to do in groups."

Ethan splutters.

"Ew," says Andi as she thinks about this in more detail.

"Also he's been dead for a while now, I believe, so that would be more of an archaeology project."

Robin cackles.

"And archaeology is a college thing," agrees Andi, nodding smartly. "Way too advanced for us sophomores."

"Not a problem," says Ethan.

"You okay there?"