Capítulo 9: ...how to trap yourself
Miss Lane's classroom gave off the same impression that her door did; it lets people know that the person who owned it had more than a few screws loose.
To be fair, it contained the same cream walls and windows in every classroom. The craziness began with Miss Lane's own...personal effects.
You know how some teachers have words like 'Welcome,' or 'Happy learning,' above their board? Miss Lane had nothing of the sort. Instead, she had a replica of what was on her door. Below that, there was a photo of herself in a slim-fitting black low-cut dress.
As I stared at it, I couldn't help wondering how Mr. Prickleberry could have failed to notify her that her job was teaching, not...man-hunting!
Flowery stickers also outlined her board. Apart from the board, two huge posters, one of Shakespeare and one of Dickens, hung behind her - her fantasy supermen.
When Aimee and I walked in, she looked up from a file she was reading. "Angelo, Aimee, can I help you?"
I couldn't help noticing the way she narrowed her eyes as she said my name.
I barely managed to back a snigger as I said, "Miss Lane if you still want me, I'd like to play the part of Rom-"
Her eyes lit up in a flash. "Oh my, Angelo, what an unexpected surprise! Let me just get your script!"
She rose up the file she had been looking at, underneath which lay a booklet. Picking it up, she held it out to me. "Here, Angelo. Take good care of it."
I nodded. "I will, Miss-"
"-I mean, I have about a dozen other copies, but this is Shakespeare's work! It must not be dishonored!"
With the amount of reverence she put in her words, she might have as well knelt as she handed me the booklet.
Sorry Dickens, she's got a clear favorite and it's not you!
I accepted the booklet with exaggerated care while replying, "Thank you, Miss, I'd treat this booklet as if it were my own child."
She sniffed. "Well, I suppose that'll have to do!"
I had to struggle to keep on a straight face, and the sight of Aimee giggling behind Miss Lane did not help matters.
Miss Delane clapped her hands together. "Well! Shall we get started? I assume that both of you already know the plot behind-"
"-one of the most famous love stories ever? Of course, I do!"
I simply shrugged. "I might have read it once or twice."
The true figure had been...twenty? Thirty? Not to mention the number of times I'd heard it...
Miss Lane beamed. "Great, let's get to work then! I'm going to test out both your acting skills today with a brief dialogue between your characters. Turn to act ii, scene vi. Now I know you'll be holding your scripts, but try to act as much as you can. Begin from the part after the friar's, which I'm going to say. Now, let's begin!"
Like a child running towards a Christmas tree, Miss Lane spoke her lines speedily, then nodded at Aimee. "Continue from that part."
Aimee silently skimmed over the scene. A few moments later she took in a large gulp of air before she shot me a smile which looked so genuine that I almost believed it.
Aimee Jacques wasn't lying when she said she was a professional liar.
In a lighter tone than her usual, she said, "As much to him, else is his thanks too much?"
I stared speechlessly at her until Miss Delane hissed, "Angelo, you're up!"
Shakingly, I nodded. It was time, the day of reckoning, judgment day -probably literally in Miss Lane's eyes. Blinking rapidly, my eyes flashed down to the script, soaking in the familiar information, breaking the barriers I had built over the years.
It's now or never...
Looking into Aimee's eyes, I deepened my voice as I said, "Ah Juliet if the measure of thy joy..."
The words were barely even out of my mouth before it happened.
All of a sudden, the air dropped to a chilling temperature, one that targeted me only, judging by the oblivious looks on Aimee and Miss Lane's faces.
'Maybe what you need is...closure.'
I'm not going to run.
Not anymore.
'Closure...closure...'
"Be heap's like mine that thy skill be more..."
At that moment, that was when it truly started.
'That's it dear, keep reading.'
The sound of the woman's voice ripped through me, shattering every illusion I had shrouded around me. I wasn't Angelo Smith, the uncaring, blunt, popular kid.
No, I was Angelo Smith, the little boy that was still haunted by the death of his parents.
With a quivering voice, I continued. "To blazon it-"
'A chip of the old block, that's what you are.'
A deep voice forced itself into my ears, bringing back the memory of the man it had once belonged to.
Bringing back the memory of John Smith.
Aimee asked, "Romeo? Are you-"
The woman's raspy voice crackled, 'Romeo, look, he goes by the name now John! I bet she's his Juliet!'
The man's breathy voice replied, 'He's following in our footsteps, our lifestyle, our example. He'll end up like us very soon as well. Like they say, like father, like son?
Come here, my boy. That can be avoided. All you have to do is-'
"Aaargh!"
All semblance of control snapped in me. I didn't care that Aimee was watching me, nor did I care that Miss Delane was as well.
I just wanted him -it -they- to leave me alone.
I spun around, and with the speed of a bullet, I tossed my booklet at the point where I could hear the voices. The booklet slammed into the poster of Shakespeare, sending it tumbling off the wall.
"My baby!"
Without wasting breath on my well-being, MissDelane rushed forward to pick up the poster. My eyes darted away from her and landed on Aimee, but I soon wished they hadn't. Shock clearly outlined her features, slowly twisting into judgment.
Breathing hard, I stormed out of the classroom. Even as I slammed the door again, I was still trying hard to get the image out of my head, the image that bothered me more than the voices, more than Miss Lane's uncaring attitude and Aimee's judgment.
For momentarily, the outline of a man had been visible to me. He was dressed in a green polo shirt and a pair of dark trousers and had a wine glass held securely between his fingers. Beside him, a golden-skinned woman sat atop a wheelchair, a mere shadow of her once fierce self.
. . .
"Angelo, wait!"
I froze on the school corridors at the sound of Aimee's call.
.
.
.
That's actually true.
She caught up to me, laughing a little as she did. "Wow, I wasn't expecting you to stop."
I arched an eyebrow at her.
She cleared her throat. "Right, sorry. Anyways...was that...you know...what you wanted to show me?"
Clenching my fist, I hissed, "No, it wasn't. It was the time when I told you 'Hey Aimee, this is what I wanted to show you! Hope you paid attention!'
Glaring at me, she crossed her arms. "I see that experience hasn't changed the fact that you're a dick!"
"Whatever! What are you even doing here? Haven't you begun the search for your new Romeo? If you need help, ask Miss Delane. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to replace me after what I did!"
"Firstly, I don't think Miss Lane cares too much about your...issue-"
I scoffed. "I mean the fact that I hit down her stupid poster!"
"Oh." Furrowing her brow, she paused, then said, "Okay, that might be a problem! Anyway, secondly, I don't need to find a new Romeo."
I rose my brow at her. "Are you quitting the play as well?"
"No. I don't need to find one because I already have one."
"Well, good luck to the pers-"
"Do I really have to spell it out for you? I'm talking about you, dolt!"
There was a pause after that as Aimee and I began our glaring contest, sparks flying between us. No, I do not mean romantic sparks. More like the 'I'm going to strangle you if you don't let me have my way' kind!
After a while, I growled, "No, you're not!"
"Yes, I am!"
I sighed. "Aimee, apart from the fact I have no interest in doing this play, you saw what happened in there-"
"What I saw was you freak out because of nerves." Her eyes narrowed. "That's all it was, wasn't it?"
You don't have to be a genius to figure out what she was doing. I saw the opening, the opportunity to admit everything, being given to me on a silver platter.
Looking directly into her eyes, I slowly replied, "Yes, that's all it was."
She was silent for almost a minute. Unlike the time before, I was under no illusion that she believed even a word I had said.
Still not breaking off our gaze, she took a step closer to me, softly saying, "Look, I'm not saying you have to do this play. I'm just saying, let me try and help you get over this...whatever it is. If I don't, or you want to quit, you're free to and I wouldn't stop you. However, can you at least try?"
Strangely, what helped me calm down at that moment was...her scent. It was fruity, kinds like strawberries, intermingled with the scent of...something coming from her hair. Leaning forward, I buried my nose into her hair, sniffing it until I recognized the scent.
Ah, vanilla, that's what it-
"W-what are you doing?"
Slap!
The force of a hand stroking my cheek pulled me out of my thoughts. I shook my head before focusing on what was in front of me., which happened to be Aimee's blushing face.
My eyes bulged. "Please, t-tell me I didn't just display such primitive behavior!"
She frantically nodded. "Yes, you did! You...pervert! I have a boyfriend!"
That snapped me out of my stunned reverie. "On the second day already?"
"Shutup, that is so not the point! You are so going to do this play, whether you like it or not!"
My eyes narrowed. "Or what?"
A wicked grin lit up her face. "I'll tell everyone that the ever-so-cool Angelo Smith sexually harassed me!"
"S-sexually harassed? All I did was...was..."
My face grew warmer.
Meanwhile, my stutters only served as a booster for her devilish grin. "See, you can't deny it! We'll have fifteen minutes of practice during the break-"
"What? Make it five, I have important issues to address!"
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I also have a boyfriend and friends to attend to, but I'm putting them on hold for those minutes. Besides, I'm sure you'll live without your fifteen minutes of your daily gossip!"
"Excuse me? Gossip? It is not gossip. It is information, which just happens to be about other people!"
Walking away, she shrugged. "Information, gist, call it what you want but it's still gossip! Anyways, Miss Lane's class, 1:15, tomorrow. Don't be late, or the entire school would know about your forceful advances towards me!"
"Th-that is preposterous! No one would believe you!"
She laughed. "Oh simple Romeo, have you learned nothing? Once you're a beautiful, popular girl, every word that comes out of your mouth is true!"
At that point I was pretty much glued where I was, doing nothing but staring at her retreating form. Many shocking things had happened that day, but the most shocking was just a word, a word which had been uttered from her wild lips...
Raising up my fist and shaking, I yelled, "How dare you call me simple? Angelo Smith is anything but simple!"
The only response I got was the sound of her tinkling laugh as she flitted down the hall.
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