The Fragile Ordinary. Samantha YoungЧитать онлайн книгу.
The hissing grew more frantic, followed by the sound of stuff thumping to the floor.
We all whipped around to look as Tobias King got out of his chair to pick up his books and jotter from the carpet wearing a beleaguered look on his face. I glanced at Heather to find her opting for an angry, smug expression.
“What is going on over there?” Mr. Stone snapped.
Heather and Tobias seemed to cause some kind of kerfuffle in every lesson, so I could understand why Mr. Stone’s patience was growing thin.
“Nothing, Mr. Stone,” Heather answered sweetly.
“Nothing?” Tobias huffed, still standing as he stared down at her incredulously. He turned to Mr. Stone. “You do realize I’m sitting next to someone in need of a mental health professional?”
“GFY, Tobias!” Heather yelled.
“I have a teenage sister, Heather.” Mr. Stone looked so harassed that I felt sorry for him. “I pretty much understand every text abbreviation under the sun. You can wait outside the room until the end of class and stay there until I come see you.”
“But—”
“No buts, Heather. And when you return to my class, Tobias will no longer be sitting next to you. I’m tired of the two of you causing disruptions. Tobias, grab your things and take the seat next to Comet.”
The blood suddenly whooshed in my ears as my heart rate shot up. I stared in horror at Mr. Stone, and he gave me a reassuring look.
How had this happened?
How was it possible that one little sentence had completely ruined my day? No...wait. My entire year in English class.
The seat next to mine made a rough scraping sound against the hardwearing carpet, and I stared determinedly ahead as Tobias King’s large body settled beside me. I could feel the sprawl of him, the warmth, and smell his faint spicy citrus scent.
My cheeks burned and my muscles tensed as I held myself away from him. As good-looking as this boy was, his indifference, his delinquent behavior, had taken a toll on my crush. I’d thrown him over in favor of a fictional immortal boy warrior called Noah.
However, it was hard to remind myself of that when he was so close—so terrifyingly close—that my body hummed with awareness. I couldn’t concentrate on what was being taught. All I could focus on was the shift of his legs under our desk, the way his arm almost brushed mine as he lifted a hand to drag his fingers through his hair and the irritated sigh that escaped him.
I wasn’t the only one who heard that sigh.
“You disagree, Mr. King?” Our teacher stared at him.
Disagree about what? What had I missed?
Dammit!
“I didn’t say anything.”
I almost jumped at hearing Tobias’s voice so close to me. It had a deep, husky quality that I found pleasant despite myself. It was the accent, I tried to reassure myself. It was different, and I liked different, that was all.
Really.
“You didn’t have to say anything. The sigh was enough. If you disagree with Penny’s understanding of the scene, there are politer ways to respond, Mr. King. Why do you disagree?”
What had Penny’s understanding of the scene been? Oh my goodness, I never daydreamed in English! Damn Tobias King.
He answered with bite, “I think it’s pretty clear Hamlet isn’t referring to his mental state as the devil.”
What? I searched the text in front of me and read it, trying to understand.
“Read the passage again, Tobias. And then tell me what you think it means.”
“I don’t want to read it.”
“Do you want to fail?”
Tobias shifted in his seat, and I risked a glance at him. As soon as my gaze landed on his face, he looked at me.
Crap.
I whipped my gaze back to my text, my cheeks furnace-hot with embarrassment. Then, to my surprise—to all our surprise—Tobias began to read.
And read well.
“Play something like the murder of my father
before mine uncle; I’ll observe his looks,
I’ll tent him to the quick; if ’a do blench,
I know my course. The spirit I have seen
May be a devil, and the devil hath power
T’ assume a pleasing shape; yeah, and perhaps,
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
As he is very potent with such spirits,
Abuses me to damn me. I’ll have grounds
More relative than this—the play’s the thing
Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.”
My breath stuck in my throat as silence reigned over the classroom. It would appear that the magical something Tobias King had—that magnetism—could be used against me.
Because the boy made Shakespeare hot.
It didn’t seem possible that a teenage boy with the wrong accent could make Shakespeare hot.
I gulped.
“Very good, Tobias,” Mr. Stone said, sounding as astonished as I felt. “Now tell me what you think Hamlet is saying.”
“He’s saying that the ghost may be using his grief against him to manipulate him to take action against Claudius. So Hamlet has decided he needs to be sure and wants to use the play to get some kind of proof of his uncle’s betrayal.”
“Yes,” Mr. Stone nodded, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “That’s exactly right. Well done.”
As class continued, I struggled to stay focused. It was hard to after discovering there really was a reason Tobias King had been placed in my English class. The boy was smart. So why was he hanging out with Stevie Macdonald and his crew of miscreants?
And why oh why did he have to be the one boy whose voice made the hair on my arms stand up?
Just before the bell rang, Mr. Stone announced something that took my day from bad to worse. “Team assignment. We’re going to get your talking outcomes out of the way this year, since I know how much you love those.”
We all groaned. Well, I didn’t groan. I blanched.
“To make things somewhat easier on you, you will be working in teams of two. Look at the person sitting next to you, because they just became your talking outcome partner.”
No.
No. Way.
I looked at Mr. Stone like he’d just betrayed me, and he gave me a small smile before addressing the rest of the class. “Each of you will be given sections of the play to present on. A few of you will be sharing the same assignment, so it’ll be interesting to see what you come up with. You’ll have roughly a month to put your presentations together. I’ll provide you with your talk date and time next class. I’m coming around with your assignments now.”
Mr. Stone stopped at Tobias and me first, and I still hadn’t gotten over my shock so it was a miracle I even processed what he said to us. “Tobias, Comet, I want you to present on Hamlet’s character development through his soliloquies. Remember to pick quotes from the soliloquies to present to the class to highlight your analysis of his character evolution.” He placed a copy of the assignment on our desk.
We were silent a moment, an awkward, terrible silence, as Mr. Stone moved on to the rest of the class. I couldn’t be the one to speak. It seemed impossible.