*April 29, 2010*
I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent
your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and
queen moult no feather. I have of late-but wherefore
I know not-lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of
exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my
disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to
me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy,
the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament,
this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why,
it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent
congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man!
How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties,
in form and moving how express and admirable,
in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man
delights not me-no, nor woman neither, though by
your smiling you seem to say so.
Hamlet:Act II scene ii (lines 293-310)
-Willliam Shakespeare
I gathered my things, heading into the city for my Shakespeare class. I mused about taking Billy to a movie at the Ziegfeld or introducing him to New York dollar pizzas... Then, I remembered we would never be alone.
Tori. Damn. How would I deal with that for two days?
As I was about to descend the stairs into the train station, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Briana.
*Cocksucking Whore:* The moment of truth. I bet u dont believe me.
10:25 AM
*Me*: I do. Already started working on it.
10:26 AM
*Cocksucking Whore:* Me 2. Try not to grovel when u see that I was right.
10:27 AM
*Me*: Try not to grovel when I'm Editor of The New Yorker in five years.
10:28 AM
New ringtone. New apartment. New phone number.
I went into the station, losing reception as soon as I reached the turnstiles. Perfect. Briana would be out of sight and out of mind for an hour, which is how long it took to get to school from here.
I pulled out my copy of Hamlet, reading through the second act, imagining the fiery-haired actor reciting it in a British accent.
I have of late-but wherefore
I know not-lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of
exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my
disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to
me a sterile promontory...
There were prerequisites, like my Cold War class, that I found to be a waste of time. Then, there was Shakespeare.
Considering my current living situation, I couldn't help but relate. And later, when Hamlet compares the humanity to "this quintessence of dust," dealing with Briana and Tori, I felt like I was surrounded by dust. All dust.
Thank God for Billy.
Despite my morning ritual, I got to class ten minutes early. I sat up front. I liked to sit there so my professors saw me. It was so easy to be anonymous in this school and this city, to be looked over. Half of my job as a student was to make sure your professors remembered me. Otherwise, I would be a social security number.
A couple of minutes later, Briana slid onto her seat directly beside me, as graceful as usual. There was a poisonous cloud of Angel perfume around her, and I took bated breaths to remain lucid. She lifted her straight hair off her shoulders, fanning herself in an extremely dramatic and annoying way.
"Hey Katherine. How'd you do on the Cold War paper?" she asked.
"Not bad," I sighed, trying to play it off. "You?"
"Hah!" She quickly dropped her thick, shiny, brown hair. "What do you think?" she asked with some hesitance, shifting her eyes. I cocked an eyebrow, my interest a bit piqued. Did she really fail that paper? She could've written it in her sleep. Her dad was a general for chrissakes.
I couldn't let the suspicion get the better of me, though. So, I stopped myself. Having conversations with her in person was the ultimate torture. She would never shut up once she started.
Thankfully, Professor Porter arrived, class began, and Briana folded her hands like a prim and proper cocksucking whore.
After an hour of listening to Porter complain about Elizabeth Taylor's performance in The Taming of the Shrew, he walked over to a stack of papers on his desk.
"I should've bet money on this. You would have surely lost," Briana said under her breath.
Flipping through my textbook of essays on Hamlet, I paid her no mind. I would need a few essays for the paper, which I knew Briana knew about all along. It was silly to discuss it. I wanted to write it and be done with it.
"Alright everyone, here's the assignment for the final," Porter said while pulling out the copies. "Shouldn't be tough for those who bothered to hand in all term papers to date," he said with a pointed look at the student behind me.
Steven Ignatius. Porter loved making a bad example of students in front of the whole class. It was pretty lame, usually. In this case, it was well-deserved. Steven came to class maybe five times the entire semester. He couldn't pass this class if he offered Porter a million dollars.
Porter handed the sheets to me first. I smirked to myself, but hoped Briana caught it. That's right. He likes me best.
I took one and passed the rest to Steven, quickly scanning the print:
Choose a Shakespearean play, tragedy or comedy, and compose a comparative analysis with a mainstream film of the 20th Century. Include inaccuracies and probable causes. 15 pages, Times New Roman, 12 pt font, double spaced, MLA standard.
Due May 21, 2010 12:15 p.m.
What a surprise.
By the time I finished skimming, Briana grinned like a Cheshire cat with a belly full of fish.
"You should worship me."
I rolled my eyes, then watched Porter walk up the steps to the back row to a student who had a question. That would take a while. Lauren was an idiot. "It's not like this is terribly difficult," I whispered. "Half of the class will ace it."
I crossed my arms, feeling Steven's eyes on us. He wore his dainty eyeglasses today, his eyes like a hawk's. He wanted in on Briana's information about the final. Briana noticed, too, smiling ironically. Everyone knew she had connections, and she knew that they knew. I was just lucky enough (truly, unlucky enough) to be in her chosen circle.
"Doubt it," she said. "But you want to make sure you ace it, Katherine."
She pulled out her iPhone with the glittery pink case, typing onto it quickly.
I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket as soon as she hit send. Whatever was in the text had to be big news if she wouldn't say it aloud. When I turned around in my seat to read it, my eyes met Steven's. He looked down quickly at the assignment.
I laughed, shaking my head. "Steven, I promise it won't be remotely interesting."
I pulled the phone out, my hands shaking. Sitting forward again, I navigated through the menus on my phone under my tabletop until I got to the message. This was better than I could've ever imagined.
*Cocksucking Whore*: Because the rest of the class doesn't know that the top 2 scores will be given a recommendation for the New Yorker internship this summer.
1:37 PM
Lucky enough... unless she was blowing hot air... maybe... probably not.
Wow!
I slid my phone into my back pocket, my cheeks heating up.
I had wanted to intern at a respectable magazine since high school. The New Yorker would be a dream. The potential for a job opportunity was to die for, especially in this recession. And Porter used to be an editor there. His recommendation would mean an automatic in.
Now, I was fretful of this entire situation. Did Briana want something from me?
"Opportunities abound, shrew." Briana whispered.
I heard Steven's chair squeak against the floor. He must have been salivating like a dog. This news was too big. Becoming the Editor in Chief for the Woodward Chronicle was one thing. This would be like winning the lottery, the Pulitzer, and an Oscar on the same day. I leaned toward Briana, speaking in a strained whisper.
"After Shawn, why are you really telling me all of this?"
"I'm in the Easter spirit," she replied with a chuckle, checking her bright red manicured nails. "Besides, the last few years have been hard on you, your personal life in shambles. I thought it was time to give back."
My, how one can twist history so easily.
"Shawn made your life a living hell because of me."
She shrugged. "Replacements are key to brutal break ups. You know that better than anyone."
"Any other questions?" I heard Professor Porter ask directly behind me. I squeezed the desk, mortified. It's just Porter. He heard nothing, and there was nothing to hear. I covered my blushing face, trying to calm my beating heart.
"Katherine?" Porter asked, walking down to face me. He removed his glasses, his hazel eyes looking directly into mine.
"No, I'm fine." I swallowed the heart in my throat. "I'm ready to write this paper."
"Good," he said, smiling at me. He was one of the younger professors on staff. From a certain angle, he looked like Billy Zane, the prick fiancé in Titanic, but with better hair. He put his glasses back on, glancing around the classroom. "If only the rest of your classmates shared your enthusiasm. See you all next week."
Briana sat in her seat, swinging her dainty leg to and fro while rest of our classmates stepped down and out of the classroom. I shifted in my seat as Porter eyed us through conversations he was having with a couple of students. Lauren was one so she would demand his undivided attention.
"Why're you helping me?" I asked Briana below my breath. "And we should talk in the hall."
"No." She checked her manicured nails. "You and your 'whys' can calm down. Accept the help. You'll pay me back later." She pulled her phone out of her bag, typing in her code. "Later."
"Hey!" I called out. Watching her slink down the steps past Porter with nary a response, I scoffed. Suffering through three years of her passive-aggression/aggression just because Shawn preferred my special and unique talents to hers was payment enough.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I welcomed the name that appeared alongside this outstanding text.
*Dana*: Good get- Toshihide Sato at a play at The New School tonight. Featured Interview of the year. Make arrangements for me?
2:31 p.m.
*Me*: For sure!
2:31 p.m.
I sat back in my seat, awash with glee. If I got Toshihide Sato to do an interview for the Chronicle, I would not only be a shoe-in for Editor, but for that internship. He was one of only a handful of Japanese Nobel Laureate's, something that meant the world to Dana since she aspired to be the first Japanese-American woman to do so.
*Dana*: He should have a translator there but you know Japanese right?
2:32 p.m.
*Me*: Fluent. :)
2:32 p.m.
Rushing back home to prepare Billy's dinner, I found myself skipping for the first time... probably ever. The only Japanese I knew was moshi moshi. Luckily, I knew someone who was fluent. He was visiting for reasons unknown. So it wasn't a fib... not really.
When I got home, I jotted down a list of quotes from Sato's book. I thanked my lucky stars I did not have to go to work. The full scholarship gave me a free ride. There would be no way I could juggle school, the paper, and work. I wasn't good at multitasking. In fact, it was one reason why I was still a "single lady"; I was afraid a relationship would take up all of my time. That was something my dad had cautioned me against. He was wrong about a lot of things, but not that.
I had one year of school left. I could have all the relationships in the world after next year. Now, it had to be about me.
I was in the middle of sautéing the chicken to a black crisp when I got a text from Billy.
*Billy*: Half an hour away.
5:15 PM
Here we go.
My hand started shaking on the saucepan's handle. I stopped, took a steadying breath and wiped it on my apron.
It's gonna be about his music. He just signed a record contract; I know it.
The kitchenette table set for three, floor swept, mopped and lemony fresh, the apartment was as ready as it could be. I was rinsing out the glasses when my doorbell rang. The glass slipped from my hand and into the sink, making me jump. Dammit, get a hold of yourself, Katherine.
I pulled my apron off, my heart a dull roar in my chest. It better be good news. It better be good news, for chrissakes.
I glared at the five locks. A safer neighborhood would mean I'd see my closest friend in a second instead of ten.
I swung the heavy door open, seeing him at the threshold with a toothy grin on his face... Alone?
"Kat!" Billy exclaimed, opening his arms. I ran into them.
"Billy!"
He hugged me, lifting me up off the floor and spinning me around. Ooh, where was Tori? Was she stuck in Phoenicia? Was that why he was so grouchy this morning?
"It's so good to see you, finally!" Hearing Billy's scratchy voice in person again felt like wrapping my heart up in a wool blanket. Fuzzy warmth.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cut the crap.
I slapped his shoulder. "Tell me! What's the news? Tell me this second, or I will burst!"
"Haha, alright, alright." He sighed dramatically, and I pushed his broad shoulders so he could set me down to the floor.
"Spill!"
"I got signed!" His brown eyes danced.
"Woo hoo!" I fought to catch my breath, his second bear hug squeezing all the air out of my body. I became a little lightheaded. "Billy! Billy, I can't breathe!"
"Oh, I'm sorry." He gently loosened his hold.
"Yeah, you guessed right," he said laughing. "You always figure me out."
I grinned, peeking over his shoulder for Tori. Nope, nothing. Yes, she wasn't coming! Maybe she was at their hotel, refusing to see me. Perfect! I have my friend all to myself.
"I'm going on a promo tour thing this summer and heading into studio in September," Billy continued with his news. "You should've seen my dad! He told everyone at church."
"Oh, and you couldn't tell me? You jerk!" I said, relieved and giddy. I walked over to the door to shut it. "I bet I was right about my dad knowing too, wasn't I?" I laughed, pushing it closed when Billy raised his brawny forearm.
Don't tell me that demon from the seventh circle of hell was on her way still? No, no, no, no!
"Kat, what do you think you're doing?" He cocked his bushy eyebrow, crossing his arms, his biceps bulging.
"Billy..." I frowned, holding out hope that I was wrong about this particular guess. "I saw you were alone, so-"
"Nope, I'm not alone. I hope you have enough for three. Tori will be here in ten minutes."
A/N: I promise all the Shakespeare quotes are for a reason. Don't skip 'em!
Now, Billy's secret is revealed and Kat was right. Billy had good news after all. Wedding. Avoided. Pregnancy. Denied!
Tori on the other hand... bad news.
In other good news, The New School's production of Hamlet's just around the bend. What will Hamlet be like? Will he have secrets Kat will rightly guess?
Comment, vote, and be mirthful!