Two Of A Kind

Chapter Six

"To be or not to be" Mrs. Anne said slamming a book against poor Ned's table, leaving him startled. "Where do you think you have heard this before?" She questions afterwards.

I knew the answer. I was willing to raise my hand, showing my consistent enthusiasm for learning which played a good role in my grades. GPAs never came from rocking your chair with a lollipop hidden behind your teeth in Ms. Anne's class. But I had replayed what Mr. Newberry had said, was it really obvious that I had taken the initial lead in every student role? I didn't care of others, but if people had feared it, and began to rebel against over achievers like Jaxon, I'd soon had a hate group. I had resisted my hand to elevate my hand.

I'd given a grace period for the class to take the chance. As I was seated at the front of the class, it wasn't easy to have kept my hand down, and so after a minuet, I had put it back up noticing that indeed no one had the reasonable answer looked for. It was obvious no one wanted to take initiative, no one had the least conscious for it. But I had a father with clear guidelines to my future. Graduate, join business school, work for me, marry Jaxon. Though some never really aligned with the prospects I had intended for myself initially, I couldn't oppose with the ones who made me, though marrying Jaxon for the sake of the business was only his fantasy, because dare I be his acquaintance, it would be as far as it gets.   

"Sadie, would you be as kind to tell the class, where I had paraphrased this line from?" She smiles. An old weary smile, resulted from the coming of age. She was well in her sixties, but looked well enough to have passed as 30. I nodded and stood up, getting a usual flirtatious whistle and quick applauds. Of course, they'd cheered. I'd be surprised if they were reluctant. Ninety percent of the class had at least one submitted assignment written by me. I'd been one to urge compromise for those with failing grades. I'd brought a bridge between the aspirations of the teachers with the willingness of the students to a common ground.

"From the classic tragedy play, Romeo and Juliet written by William Shakespeare"

"Well done" She beams as I sit down.

"Isn't Romeo and Juliet like, a romance story? I heard they both die. How romantic" Hailey sighs dreamily, a cheerleader off our team decides to contribute to the conversation. I scoff at her comment. Romance? I say not.

"Oh, please Hailey the only romance that exists in that story is that of the words and the paper, I wouldn't call what Juliet and Romeo romance, more like a death-wish. One who would poison themselves for a loved one is foolish" I retorted that last part to myself earning a lot of odd stares from the class. Well of course, I did. Why would the school's love bug, who's completely invested in Connor, complain over the love that Romeo and Juliet had during the story?

I had said it on accident, yet meant what I had said. What anything people had done for someone they love never made any sense. Sacrifices so desperate for one that may not even care was unreasonable. For one, I do believe it is hypocrisy. I'd seen it inside out through many people I know. Melisa. Forgive me Shakespeare, though your writing is above and beyond, you might want to halt on the love talk. It is definitely portraying different sorts of meanings to people. Why would one go as far as losing their dignity for someone that probably hardly cares about them? Is that even healthy?

But I'd feared my rational criticism on an internationally accepted piece of writing has sadly awoken way too many souls ready to blurt out, so I had to completely cover up for my slipup.

"Would be one way to analyze it" I quickly remark shooing away ogling eyes, realizing that everyone had taken my word to account, which indeed got them to stop looking my way.

Mrs. Anne completely confused and baffled over that five-minuet ramble, had decided to ignore it. "Anyway, for your literature assignment this week, I want you to take a look at Shakespeare's work, read the play, and write your own analytical point of view over the plot. With regards to your personal desires." She mentions lastly looking over at the whole class, knowing almost ninety percent of the students will probably have wept on the paper more than once, insisting to put a little heart in the writing.