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I tap my pencil on my notebook impatiently, frustrated with myself for paying any attention to his presentation. Who cares? Certainly not me.
I get back to my drawing, only pausing when Mr. Green calls my name. I would have preferred avoiding standing up, but I do as instructed. “I’m Nadia. I like art, I guess.”
What else was there to know about me? Nothing much, so I flop down on my chair.
Though I’m not the only one who stuck to the basics, Mr. Green pushes me. “What sort of art, Nadia?”
Resentment rampant, I glare at his pretty face. The teacher’s sandy blond, with a beard and rectangular glasses. Is he even old enough to be qualified?
“Anything I can do with my hands.” I shrug.
“I can give you something to do with your hands,” someone calls suggestively from the back.
I glance over my shoulder. One of the baseball jocks, Martin Lee, hold my gaze as he makes a rude gesture, pumping his fist over his lap. I want to flip him off, but I’m in class, so I do the next best thing. “I’d help if you can find tweezers small enough to hold your junk.”
Melina bursts out laughing, along with most of the class. Lee looks furious, and I couldn’t give a fuck.
I can’t help but notice Cain and Jason. They’re glancing at each other, silently communicating in a way that makes me nervous. I feel like they’re taking notes, getting to know what makes me tick, preparing to strike where it hurts.
I’m getting paranoid.
“All right, all right,” Mr. Green says. “Next, Brittany Stevens.”
I tune the class out again.
“This year, we will be starting with Romeo and Juliet.” To emphasize his point, he holds up his own copy of the play.
While I roll my eyes but keep my mouth shut, several guys groan or mutter to each other. Not everyone appreciates Shakespeare. I have my favorites, and Romeo and Juliet is not one of them.
Cain’s the one to speak up loud enough to be heard over everyone else. “Do you plan on making us study romantic crap for the rest of the year?” His chair squeaks, and I glance at him. He’s leaning back in his desk so much that he’s in danger of tipping over. Except boys like him never did. The universe simply won’t allow it. “I’d like some stuff with murder to balance it out.”
Doesn't he know anything about Romeo and Juliet? My snort comes just as the class stops chuckling, so to my dismay, Mr. Green notices me. “You have an opinion, Miss Reyes?” he asks, lifting his chin.
This is bullshit. Half the class was agreeing or laughing with Cain. I close my eyes. “It’s just that Romeo and Juliet isn’t exactly romantic. And there’s plenty of murder.”
“It’s viewed by the general population as the most romantic story of all time.”
The general population is stupid, then. I‘m too frustrated with this entire day to use a filter. “It’s a bullshit story about a miscommunication that could have been sorted out with one grown-up conversation but ended up a huge mess because everyone was immature.”
There’s a snort behind me. When I twist, I meet Jason’s cool gaze.
I don’t ask anything. I pray he’ll drop it. The last thing I need is to interact with him again today. Even in class.
I’ve been uneasy since the locker incident, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Being so close to him was unnerving enough. Communicating with him…no.
I’d apologize—properly, this time—then we’d go back to a world where we can pretend the other doesn’t exist. At least, he can pretend I don’t exist. I’ve never failed to notice him.
“You’re immature if you think that.” I notice that when he speaks publicly, his voice is very much like his father’s. That of a politician, with an undercurrent of power that demands everyone come to heel and listen and obey. Jason's father is a well-known, well-loved senator, who might just have a shot at the presidency.
Picture perfect, with a dash of rot underneath.
I want to drop the subject. Mr. Green doesn’t let me. “Nadia speaks rather confidently—I’d wager she can defend her opinion.”
Of course I can. That doesn’t mean I want to. Because of my teacher’s expectant gaze, I blurt out, "Would it have ended the same way had Romeo manned up and simply asked for Juliet's hand?" Staring at Mr. Green rather than Jason emboldens me. "The benefit of a marriage through more traditional means would have ended the war. They merely had to talk to her father directly. Juliet's father wanted her married well, and Romeo's lineage was as good as Paris's."
Mr. Green laughs. “Who’s taking notes? She’ll earn you a straight A, this one.”
My cheeks feel hot.
