Chapter Three

I was hardly done with my temper by the time I entered Miss. Parksin's Eleventh grade English class. Morning's were not my favorite time of the day. In fact, I had no favorite time of the day. Night was when I frequently enjoyed myself. But, somehow schools hadn't gotten it into their heads to make classes at night. At least, not for people in high school.
    I dropped my books down, realizing a moment after the bell rang, that my English book was left snuggly in the back of my locker. I'd been so mad about Oz I had stormed off without it.
    I dropped my face into my hands, defeated. My day could not possibly get any worse.
    "Hey." A male voice. One that made my stomach drop with disgust, and my skin burn with something I couldn't quite place.
    I'd obviously been wrong.
    Pulling my headphones from my ears, I gave him the most pleasant smile I could muster under the circumstances. Something told me he could sense the venom in the smile.
    "Can I help you?" A couple people nearby perked up. One continued to focus on their book. The other was picking at their nails. But, I could tell they were both listening in. I could almost taste their interest in the air.
    "You just dropped your book, Darlin." He pulled my english book out from behind his back, holding it in front of my face. I felt my cheeks instantly burn, with anger or embarassment, I wasn't entirely sure.
    "Will you please stop doing that." I snatched the book out of his hands. I knew for the fact I had locked my locker when I left... right? And how had he known that I had forgotten it in my locker in the first place.
    "Stop doing what," his eyes flashed, that crystal blue, from beneath his ebony curtains of hair. His lips twitched once more into a half-smile. He was toying with me, and I was determined to stop playing his games.
    "Mr. Octobre, please take your seat." The teacher said as she walked in, pointing a piece of chalk in our direction threateningly. It took me a moment before I realized that she was talking to Oz.
    Everyone was losing their mind. Or perhaps I was.
    Oz flashed me another quick smile, dropping my english book onto my desk, and taking the only other available seat in the class. The one right in front of me.
    "Well then, class, now that it seems we're all ready to begin, open your books to Act two, scene two." She said, waving her hands, taking a long sip from her huge cup of coffee while she waited.
    "Mr. Octobre, as you seem to interested in Miss. P_______, you must already have this page memorized. So, why don't you please recite it for the class?" The teacher said. I hadn't noticed it, but even after sitting down, Oz hadn't taken his eyes off of me.
    This time however, it didn't escape my attention that the class was quiet. Not just their voices. I couldn't hear their thoughts. And the only thing I could smell was the stale scent of old insence. No thoughts. No emotions. Who was Oz Octobre?
    Oz got out of his seat, much to the shock of the teacher, and marched straight to the front of the class. For a moment, he stood still as a statue, before he finally opened his mouth, closing his eyes.

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

His eyes opened slowly, zeroing in on me. The whole classroom fell away, and the warm spidery feeling returned. The room filled with the scent of mixed emotions. The sharpness of envy that some of the guys had at the way Oz spoke the words, almost as if he had written them himself. The girls, many of whom sighed, wishing the words were being spoken for them. I could even sense my own nausea at how badly I wanted to throw up. Or were those butterflies?

"Yes, well then, Mr. Octobre, please take your seat." Miss. Parksin's face was flushed. I could tell his words had gotten to her as well, just like the rest of them. As he returned to his seat, I averted my gaze, staring intently out the window, hoping he would just mind his gaze for once.

I was startled to know that he hadn't sat down, and he opened his lips to speak another line of poetry. And I was mortified to know this time, he most definitely was talking about me.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

I grabbed my books, and didn't look back as I ran from the room. It seemed I would do well to join the track team. Or perhaps softball.

*****

Reviews

[Monkeybananers]

uh, okay.. seriously.. romeo and juliet? LOVE! LOVE! seriously, i felt like.. in a weird... void when i read that part.. its confusing, and i hope you understand what i mean.. (i added that before but for some reason, it only saved everything before the question mark, which made it sound like i hated that you used romeo and juliet. it might be because i used a less than three sign.)