The quotes on the board were easy for me. English has always been my favourite subject. It was my favourite subject, the one lesson where time flew by. I liked how it was up to me to decide how I wanted to interpret quotes and situations. It was easy
to write what I thought without worrying if there was a single right answer.
I copied down the first quote on the board.
Stars, hide your fires, let not light see my black and deep desires.
I chewed the end of my pen for a second and then started writing. Macbeth is trying to hide what he wants. He knows it's wrong, but he doesn't want anyone to see it. Fires show ambition that is burning within Macbeth and he's asking the stars to cover it up because he knows his desires are wrong.
My page began to fill up quickly. I moved on to the next quote and the next page.
Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.
That one was even easier.
I underlined a few key words, added arrows, and notes about what themes the quotes explored along with analysis.
After a few minutes, I glanced sideways, looking at Hamza. His page was almost empty. He'd written down the first quote neatly, but that was it. His pencil hovered above the page, and he looked at the board, then back down and then at me.
For a second, I thought he was just thinking. But, then he tapped his pencil against his book and looked at me again.
"Can you… help with this?" His voice was soft and quiet - almost vulnerable, as if he didn't want anyone to hear.
"Yeah," I said, sliding my book slightly toward him. "Look, for this first one, Macbeth's basically saying he doesn't want anyone to see what he's planning. He knows his desires aren't good, so he wants to hide them."
He nodded, writing slowly, his handwriting elegant and careful. He had pretty handwriting, especially for a guy.
"And this one," I said, pointing to the second quote, "it's about pretending to be good while actually being dangerous. Like… looking harmless but not being harmless."
Another nod. He didn't say anything else, just kept writing, stopping now and then to think. I explained a couple more quotes, and he kept listening, adding a few notes of his own.
When I finished my last quote, I looked over again. His page was no longer empty. He looked at me again and gave me a soft smile, "Thank you."
English class finished and the bell rang. As I exited the classroom and stood in the corridor, Tanisha caught me by the arm.
"You're sitting with me," she said warmly.
Outside, we found a spot near the benches. Tanisha talked about her favourite books, and we slipped easily into Harry Potter debates.
"I love Hermione." I confessed. "She's my favourite character. Harry and Ron wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for her."
Tanisha's eyes lit up as she nodded in agreement. "Totally, she's an icon! I hate Dumbledore though, he raised Harry like a pig for slaughter!"
" Omg, same! Thank you! I thought I was the only one." I said with a laugh.
Unfortunately, break ends quickly.
Luckily, me and Tanisha were in the same PE class.
My legs felt heavy as we lined up for rounders. I felt as if I was holding boulders as I forced myself to put one foot in front of another. I hated PE. I sucked at PE.
Tanisha stayed close to me, filling the time with whispers about teachers.
"Ms. Clark is the most hated teacher in the school," she muttered. "Detentions for the smallest things, he thinks she runs the place."
"Noted," I snorted.
When it was my turn to bat, my heart pounds. Can I disappear now? If I close my eyes, will I be gone? Bury me sixty feet under- you hear me, sixty!
"You can do it!" Amir shouted from the field, and I glanced up, surprised.
He was grinning. Beside him, Hamza stood quietly. His eyes meet my eyes briefly, giving a small nod. Both gestures from Amir and Hamza made me feel a little better.
I take a deep breath before swinging the bat.
The first swing misses. Okay, great. Shoot me.
The second - missed again. Okay, I hate everyone and the world. Let me die.
The third time, the bat connected weakly. I ran, legs shaking, making it to second base. At least, I wasn't out yet.
The teams switched.
My team was fielding now.
Hamza swings and sends the ball flying straight toward me. Shoot. I fumbled with the ball, slipping through my hands. He ran three times before I finally managed to throw it.
The captain frowns. He was a tall boy, who looked like all he drank was protein shakes and went to the gym. "Next time, don't even bother to play," he said haughtily, glaring at me.
Instantly, heat rises in my cheeks. I know I was bad, but no need to rub in it. I suppressed the urge to throw the stupid ball at his face.
"Ignore him. He's always like that," Tanisha said reassuringly, with a smile. It made me feel better. I still wanted to punch the Captain, though.
I nodded, swallowing the sting. "Yeah. Let's go."