Picture Perfect

I smiled as Chris dropped me off at my last class of the day. As soon as he was out of sight, I let out a large sigh and went into the room. He had been pestering me all day, seeing as we had second, fourth (with lunch), and fifth period together. I don’t care what people say, there is a such thing as too much of a good thing. Chris was the epitome of perfection, hence why I had to date him, and I hated him for being so perfect. It caused me to feel very inferior to him most of the time and to despise him the rest of the time.

I dropped myself down in a random, empty desk, and buried my face in my hands. If today was anything to base the rest of the year off of, I don’t think I could survive. It wasn’t that today was dramatic or stressful…it was just that I was always surrounded by people, and I was getting sick of it. I knew that everyone was talking behind my back. I knew that they were plotting my demise. It’s what everyone does to the hero figure- they try to bring that person down off of their pedestal…honestly, if anyone asked, I would gladly give up all my perks: the money, the lifestyle, my “friends.” I just wanted to hang out with normal people who would accept me for who I am inside instead of who my family is.

“Anna! Like, Oh my gawd! I didn’t know you were in this class!” I hitch-pitched voice shrieked. I tried to hide my grimace. As soon as she said it, I was surrounded by mindless babble from five different high-pitched voices. I tried my best to block them out and just agree to everything they said.

“Ladies! Please, take your seats and be quiet!” Mrs. Lewis, our Honors English teacher said. By now, the tardy bell had rung. “This is my classroom, and I will not have any disrespect.” She added, looking scornfully at my so-called-friends. “Now, here is the syllabus for this class. It will be taught at a college level and I expect you take it seriously-”

Just then, the really tall “punk kid” entered the classroom. He hung his head as he grabbed a syllabus and walked to the back of the classroom to one of the available seats.

“Mr. Sullivan, we’re glad that you finally decided to join us. Frankly, I’m surprised you signed up for this class, let alone actually come to it.” She said rather sarcastically to the poor boy.

“Give him a break! It’s only the first day of class,” I found myself voicing.

Everyone turned to look at me.

“Ms. DiMarco, care to elaborate?”

“If I must.” I barely caught his grumbling a few seats behind me. “I don’t think that it’s fair, nor is it right, of you to scold him so early in the year. Isn’t it school policy to give us time to adjust to our new schedules at the beginning of every term? To allow us to be slightly tardy. And I do believe it’s in your job description to instruct and help us in your subject. Pardon my idiocy on such matters, but how is teaching us to prejudice on someone who is vaguely similar to us a part of Shakespearean Literature in Context?” I questioned, utterly shocked that such words spilled out of my mouth.

“Very well spoken, Ms. DiMarco, you can further share your thoughts in a five page paper do at the end of the week. Mr. Sullivan, do you have anything to add?”

“Nope,” he muttered. “I’m just here to get the credit.”

Mrs. Lewis nodded her head and returned to the syllabus. “As I said before, this is a college level class and I expect college level work out of you. I will only accept three excused absences, any absence past that- excused or not- and you will not pass this course, unless if I see a physician’s note and Mr. Green contacts me of your ailment. You will be allowed five tardies. Meaning, Mr. Sullivan, you only get four more. Plagiarism is strictly forbidden. If I see it, you will immediately fail the course and I’ll make sure you get yourself a week’s suspension at least. As you can see, your grade is broken down into four parts: quizzes, exams, your final paper, and a semester-long research project that you will do in pairs over a play that I assign to you-”

Hannah, one of the “shriekers” as I liked to call them, nudged me in the side with her elbow. She gave me a look, as did all the others, that clearly said that they wanted to be my partner.

“-I will also be the one to put you into your pairs. Ms. DiMarco, since you clearly have a fondness for Mr. Sullivan, I’ll let you two be partners. The Taming of the Shrew will be your play, and, fair warning: do not let him let you do all the work. If one of you fails, then so does the other,” she added with a malicious smile.

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at her, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of her seeing my thoughts. She then rattled off the other pairs and their plays before giving us the last twenty minutes of class to talk to our partners. Against the protests of “the shriekers,” I picked up my stuff and went over to the desk in front of Mr. Sullivan.

“Hey, your name is James, right?” I asked a little timidly as I sat down. What?! He was tall and had a lot of muscles!

“It’s Jimmy. And your Annaliese DiMarco, Princess of Huntington Beach, your reputation exceeds you.”

I rolled my eyes at the title. “I’m hardly a princess.”

He scoffed. “Yea, right, just look at you. You scream royalty.”

I chose to ignore his comment. It’s not that I didn’t have a comeback, but there’s only so many times that you can say something before it becomes too old. “So, The Taming of The Shrew, do you know it? Are you familiar with it at all?”

He looked at me, clearly at a loss for words. “What, you don’t have a comeback?”

I shook my head. “No, I’d just rather not get into a pointless argument. There’s only so many times you can fight at a certain battlefield before you’re forced to give up and surrender.”

“Come again? This is the first actual conversation we’ve had in twelve years.”

I sighed. “I’d rather not discuss it. Since you clearly are not familiar with the material, I suggest that we meet up at the public library and see if we can get our hands on a copy of the play…and I know there’s a few movies that are based off of it.” I rattled off, grabbing my planner. I looked up at his shocked face. “You do know where the public library is, right? I don’t have to draw you a map and give you detailed instructions, do I?” I asked rather sarcastically. what the hell was happening? It was as if the real me was coming out after hiding for all these years.

“Are you always so bitchy?”

“I don’t know. Are you always such a lazy ass?” I shot back, matching his glare.

He finally broke it with a laugh. “Wow, the princess has some bite to her.”

I would have responded if the dismissal bell hadn’t gone off.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, princess.” He said before grabbing his stuff and heading out the door, a winning smirk on his face.

This is far from over, Mr. Sullivan.