“Colton,” I interject sternly. “No.”
“Fine.” He sighs dramatically. “If I was agirl, I’d pick Athens because at least I’d probably be rich and live in a nice city with a nice house. The Spartans were total Neanderthals compared to the Athenians.”
“Twenty-five hundred years later, humans are still picking sides over this,” I remark.
“I think you’ll find they weren’t all that remarkably different from one another in terms of brutality, the more you research,” Lucy remarks. “Anyone else?”
“Well, what about you?” Jack pipes up, squinting at her. “You’re a girl.”
“A woman,” I correct.
“Right, whatever, but which one would you pick?”
“Hmm.” Lucy purses her lips thoughtfully. “Tough one.”
“You gotta answer!” the students demand. “We answered.”
Lucy folds her arms. “Well, I suppose I’d pick Athens because the thought of staying indoors all the time, maybe watching my favorite TV shows, eating chocolates on my couch, and never having to go to SuperMarteveragain...”
The students all giggle as Lucy sniffs and pretends to importantly recline on her desk. “In all seriousness, it isn’t a fair question, is it? Ancient women had it way harder than we do now, and I don’t think any of us would want to trade places with our feminine counterparts of the past. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Her question is answered by several eager nods.
“What about the men?” I ask.
The boys all erupt in an almost unanimous answer of “Sparta!”
“Okay, but your answer can’t be because you saw that really old kick-ass movie about Spartans once. Why?” Lucy asks.
A chorus of answers rings out.
“They’re warriors.”
“They train all the time!”
“They’re strong.”
“It’s our school mascot, duh.”
“I’d want to be Athenian,” Jack mutters.
The class quiets down.
“Why?” I ask.
“They had warriors too.” He shrugs. “And they had a senate instead of kings, which I think is better, maybe. And they cared more about learning and talking than violence. I dunno.”
Pearl smiles at him, though he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Not a bad answer,” I assent.
“Atticus would be an Athenian,” Colton points out. “Bet he can’t even throw a punch.”
A few students shuffle in their creaking seats, as though they mean to identify if Colton’s going to get in trouble or not. But I’m not scolding him for an observation. Not this time.
“You’re right,” I reply. “I can’t. My programming prevents me from doing so.”
“So someone could beat you up?” Hoseok asks. “And you’d just have to like, take it?”
