am melting. I am wanting to tell Alex. I am wanting to shove this letter in James the assholeâs face, in his slutty girlâs face. I am going to explode.
âWhy are you smiling?â Justin says.
âDonât fucking talk to me,â I say too loud, and everybody looks at me like I just pissed on the floor.
âCassie, youâre this close to detention,â Mr. Cobb says with his white, skinny fingers held up like tweezers, and the gifted boys snicker and the gifted girls roll their eyes like they always do.
âSorry,â I say, but Iâm not. I have this note in my hand and thatâs all that matters. What matters is the coolest guy in school thinks Iâm hot. I stare at the letter, looking for more clues, but all I see is my misspelled name and the incorrect form of âyourâ so I take a pen out of my bag and make it perfect. The letter is perfect and the boy who drives wants me.
âDid everyone finish
Romeo and Juliet
?â Mr. Cobb asks, and everyone says yes. A couple of girls who went to private school together roll their eyes again, and I want to tell themit would be more efficient if they never stopped rolling their eyes, if they just kept them rolling and rolling until they rolled right out of their heads and I could step on them and smash them like grapes.
One of them whines, âWe read that
two years
ago.â
Mr. Cobb says, âThen youâll be that much ahead of the curve,â and that seems to satisfy them. âSome of us havenât read any Shakespeare yet,â he says, and everybody looks at me like Iâm responsible for this remedial assignment.
âWeâre going to break up into groups of two to analyze and perform a scene for the class,â he says. Everyone starts squealing and fighting for partners while smelly Justin and I just sit there because weâre the only ones no one wants.
He looks at me and says, âYou want to be my partner?â
âWhatever.â
Mr. Cobb tells us to move our chairs together and discuss our scene, and Justin is already turned to the page with the kissing.
âYou be Juliet and Iâll be Romeo,â he says.
âYou be Tybalt and Iâll be Mercutio,â I tell him.
âBut you die,â he says.
âAnd you kill me.â
(SIX)
âHome sweet home,â Alex says, and it smells like smoke and something rotting. The front door closes with a bang and she throws her coat on the floor, onto a pile of other coats and half-emptied shopping bags. There is a frozen pizza in one of them that appears to be fully thawed. The paper bag is dark with moisture and thereâs a puddle around it.
âThis way,â she says, and leads me into the living room. There is stuff piled everywhere and I can hardly see the floor. The room is hot and the air feels damp, like someone has been taking a shower for months.
âThis must be Cassie,â says a raspy voice coming from the couch. I did not notice the woman lying there with hairand clothes as black as the leather. Her lips are red with lipstick and her eyes are painted dark and something about her reminds me of a cat. A thin, lanky, sleepy cat.
âArenât you supposed to be at work, Lenora?â says Alex.
âIâm home sick,â says the woman, faking a cough and laughing a deep laugh. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
âYeah, right,â Alex says to the woman. âLetâs go downstairs,â she says to me. I nod and follow even though I want to keep listening to this cat-woman purring in her low voice.
âCassie,â the woman says, and I turn around. She sits up and pats the space next to her on the couch. âCome talk to me for a minute.â
I look at Alex and her face is angry, but I go and sit by the woman anyway. The couch is warm where her legs were and I sink into it. Something smells familiar.
âMy daughter tells me youâre smart,â
William R. Forstchen, Andrew Keith