Outside The Lines {2}

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                I silently cursed my life as Dimitri sat down next to me. This close to him, I could see just how sparkly the purple in his hair was.

                Mrs. Slate came over and dropped a copy of Hamlet onto Dimitri’s desk before going back up to the front of the room. I tried to keep my gaze on her instead of on Dimitri.

                “Hey, what page are you guys on?” he asked, his musical voice entering my ears and dancing around my brain.

                I grumbled out the page number, not looking at him. I could see Oliver glancing back at us and trying not to laugh.

                “Alright, Mr. Light, you can be Hamlet for today. Who wants to be the Queen?” Mrs. Slate asked.

                “Dimitri wants to be the Queen!” a girl named Kim said, spinning around to face him as the class laughed.

                “Kim, honey, I don’t want to be the Queen. I am the Queen,” Dimitri with a smirk.

                “That’s enough,” Mrs. Slate said. “You can be the Queen.” She pointed at Thalia. “And you, Mr. Ivanov, can be Polonius.”

                “Polonius?” Dimitri flicked his hair back dramatically. “He talks forever!”

                “So do you,” Mrs. Slate said flatly. She opened her book as Dimitri smirked again.

                We began to read our lines. As it got to the part where Polonius hides behind the curtain, Dimitri stopped reading and looked up.

                “Girl, please. Why would he hide behind a curtain again? The Queen has perfectly fine ears. There is no need to be a nosy little man,” he said, shaking his head. A little bit of glitter landed on the pages of his book.

                “Just read!” Mrs. Slate snapped.

                “Fine, fine,” Dmitri said, waving his hand at her. He finished up his lines and we continued on with the play.

                I kept shooting desperate looks at the clock, wishing this period would be over already. Reading Hamlet with someone like Dimitri was a nightmare.  

                “How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!” I read.

                “O, I am slain!” Dimitri cried dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart and sinking down in his seat.

                He sat back up, looking down at the book and shaking his head, more glitter landing on his desk. He sighed in annoyance.

                “Who dies like that? ‘O, I am slain!’ Girl, please. You have a sword in your chest. We can all tell you’re slain. No need to announce it,” he said.

                “Dimitri, can’t you just read?” Mrs. Slate asked in annoyance.

                “I’m trying to get into the piece! I’m just saying. That is a terrible way to die. I bet you made me take this part just so I could be killed. Sorry, slain. And Hamlet’s mom doesn’t even care! Let me tell you, if I left a dead guy bleeding on my mom’s carpet, oh girl, I’d be slain for real,” he said.

                “Shut up Dimitri. You’re supposed to be dead,” Kim reminded him.

                “Oh Kimberly darling, if I was dead, you’d fall to tears,” he said, blowing her a kiss.

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