All The Lies We Tell

Chapter 9: Not One Of Us

I couldn't wait for the day to be over. All I wanted was to go home, crawl into bed and ignore the whole world for a while. But first, English.

I was sitting in class pretending to listen as a few students struggled through the last act of Othello. I could tell Mr. Williams had tired of everyone's inability to read and understand early modern English. After about twenty minutes, Mr. Williams lifted a hand signalling Jordan, the kid reading to stop.

"It's evident that you guys are having trouble with the material," Mr. Williams said as he got up from being his desk. "What can I do to help make your comprehension easier?"

For a long moment, no one replied. Then, Ricky, a guy I only knew to be very disruptive let out a chortle.

"You could...I don't know, not make us read this garbage."

Mr. Williams forced his thin lips into a smile. "What makes you think Othello is garbage?"

"Because he's an idiot! He's insecure and cares too much about what people think. If he just asked Desdemona if she cheated and opened his eyes enough to see through Iago nothing bad would happen."

"Does anyone else agree with Ricky's sentiment?" Mr. Williams asked.

Carrie put up her hand. "I think that Ricky's half right."

Mr. Williams nodded. "Go on."

"If Othello weren't so insecure, he wouldn't have been duped so easily by Iago. He should have had more confidence in his relationship with Desdemona."

"Why do you think he was so insecure?" Mr. Williams prompted.

I lifted my hand. Mr. Williams turned to me, an encouraging smile spread on his face.

"Because of Brabantio and every other person or institution at the time that believed he was of a lower class than Desdemona. He was a solider and that gave him status but take that away and he's nothing more than a dark face in a white place. It would be really hard for anyone to not let that get to them."

"An interesting point of view Ciara. How about this class? Sine I know you have all read the Spark note version of the play anyways, I'll ask of you this. Write a five paragraph essay on why you think this play is tragic. You can focus on any character you'd like. Have it to me by this class next week."

"Does that mean we don't have to read through the rest?" Ricky asked.

Mr. Williams nodded. "No you should finish reading but on your own time. But, take the rest of the class to think about your thesis."

Chatter picked up in the class as everyone began talking at once. Nate, who was sitting in front of me and one to the left, turned around.

"You really think his insecurities stemmed from Brabantio's bigotry?" He asked.

I tried not to look too shocked that he was actually talking to me. For the past week the only interaction we shared were quick glances and the occasional polite smile during class. Other than that though, Nate kept his distance.

I shrugged. "I think it's a contributing factor."

He nodded and then looked down at the book.

"What if he was right though? Not about Othello being below them but his relationship with Desdemona? If they hadn't gotten together, both of them wouldn't have ended up dead."

I shook my head. "Othello killed Desdemona because he thought that he owned her. That she was his property so how dare she even look at another man?"

"It was the norm," he replied flippantly.

"It's disgusting. No human should feel that level of superiority over another."

"Some would argue that he was just so in love with her he couldn't bare the thought that she didn't feel the same way."

"There are plenty ways to show someone you love them. You don't even have to make a big show of it. A love letter would suffice. But to kill someone? That's not love. That's ownership."

"A love letter huh?"

I could tell he was teasing. His mischievous grin and twinkling eyes were a sure tell.

"I mean...some girls are into that?"

"What are you into?"

I could feel my face heating up. I dropped my gaze but a smile began to spread on my lips. I pursed them into a fine line and bit the inside of my cheek.

"Alright, don't say."

I raised my head and shot him a quick glance. He was peering at me intently, his expression was a mix of amusement and humour.

"I'm sure you'll tell me eventually."

He was bold, I'd give him that. But was definitely barking up the wrong tree with me. If he were to find about me, I'm sure he wouldn't be so keen to talk me after all. Which meant, I had two options. Be honest or omit. Lie and deceive or risk being vulnerable.

Hate to say it but the choice wasn't a difficult one.

***

I fulfilled my duty as the diligent daughter that I am. Though, the grocery store was out of my way I peddled the twenty minutes it took from school to the biggest supermarket the Heights had to offer.

Once there, it didn't take me long to tick every item off the list. In under fifteen minutes, I was standing in the self checkout line. I paid for everything and then headed back outside. As I was walking to my bike, I remembered that I needed to pick up some tampons. Despite the heavy bags, I U-turned and headed back inside. I walked straight to the aisle with the feminine products and browsed until I found my favourite kind. Extra large and extra absorbent.

I took a box and was heading out of the aisle when I spotted Carrie at the far end. She was busy looking down at a small white box in her hands to notice me. I began backing away, keeping my eyes glued on her but she didn't move. As she reached for another box, I caught glimpse of cover. The word Clearblue was written in bold and next to it, a picture of a pregnancy test.

Although I was overflowing with surprise and curiosity, I stepped out of the aisle and into the next one. I stopped short of running into an Asian women.

"Sorry," I exclaimed, stepping back.

I took my box of tampons and booked it for the check out. I don't know what was up with my timing but I really needed to stop running into people from St. Mary's. Or at least, running into them while they're doing things that I'm not meant to be seeing.