The Fragile Ordinary

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. Even though I was panicking at the thought of messing up an English assignment, I was unable to turn to Tobias to arrange time to work together. That would bring reality crashing down around me.

Tobias did it for me. “So I guess you’ll want to get together to do this?” He flicked his piece of paper with the assignment on it. He couldn’t have sounded less enthusiastic if he tried.

For some reason my irritation with his tone helped clear my throat. “Yes. I don’t want to fail.”

I still hadn’t looked at him, but I could feel his gaze on my face. The burn of it was too much, and I finally caved and returned his stare. Tobias seemed to study me for a moment and then he sighed heavily. “Fine. My house after school.”

Wonderful.

Not only, I guessed, was I going to be lumbered with most of the work, I was going to have to drag my butt out of my comfort zone and visit a boy. At his house. “Where do you live?”

“Do you know where Stevie lives?”

“Stevie Macdonald?”