Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) Page 14

  “Do we have to narrow it down to one thing?” Trina asked.

  I laughed. “As difficult as that might be, yes.”

  I watched as everyone thought briefly and started writing. After a few minutes, everyone seemed to have something down.

  “All right,” I said. “Who’d like to start?”

  Julie put up her hand. “For me, it’s the behavior of the adults in the play. Everything they do is so ridiculous.”

  “Anything specific?” I prodded.

  “A lot of things. Juliet’s father threatening to kick her out if she doesn’t marry the guy he’s picked? That’s insane. And the friar with the potion? What a nut. I can almost see the logic in her leaving temporarily to avoid marrying Paris, but pretending to be dead? That’s loco.”

  “So, what’s the reasoning behind those characterizations and decisions?” I asked, throwing the question out to the table.

  “To isolate Romeo and Juliet and make their situation really desperate?” Trina said. “Right from the first page, the feud sets up the catastrophe. Their parents probably don’t even know what they’re fighting about anymore. I think Julie’s right. The adults fail them miserably.”

  “Excellent points, both of you. I agree. Romeo and Juliet are certainly victims of the constraints of society and of their parents’ expectations.”

  Why do all roads lead back there?

  “What else drives you crazy?”

  Aubrey leaned forward slightly. “The coincidences. It’s like everything is conspiring against them. It’s so frustrating to watch.”

  I sat back as a lively conversation broke out, everyone talking over each other.

  “Oh, I know! Like he hears she’s dead from someone who’s seen the funeral procession…”

  “Right! And he just happens to know of a guy who sells poison right when he’s all suicidal…”

  “And the friar guy, the other friar? How he can’t send the letter because of the plague…”

  “The worst is when Romeo takes the poison seconds before she wakes up. Did you see the Leonardo DiCaprio version, where she wakes up and looks at him and he’s not dead yet, but he knows he’s about to die any second? Man, that’s brutal.”

  “Oh, I know, right? I love that movie.” Cara sighed.

  Why was I not surprised that Cara’s understanding of Romeo and Juliet was tied to a film adaptation of the play? I held up my hands to regain control of the group. “Okay, okay! So, based on what I just heard, it’s fair to say the coincidences ruffle a lot of feathers, yes? How do we justify Shakespeare’s use of coincidence in the play?”

  Aubrey looked around the table. “He’s demonstrating the power of destiny. Nothing can go right for them because their stars aren’t aligned. They’re victims of a force more powerful than their love.”

  “Absolutely, Miss Price,” I said. “The smallest events, the most seemingly insignificant things”—a lost glove, for instance—“can thwart our hopes. Destroy everything.”

  “It makes me wonder what they would have been like together if things had worked out,” Trina said. “Once they got to know each other, they might not have even liked one another.”

  Lindsay frowned. “How long did they know each other before they got married?”

  “Not even twenty-four hours,” I told her.

  “Really? That is kind of crazy,” Lindsay said.

  “Like anyone would fall in love that fast. It’s the whole clichéd love-at-first-sight bit, right?” Vince said.

  “So, you don’t believe in love at first sight?” I asked him.

  “What, you do?” Shawn piped up.

  I tapped my pen for a second. On the spot again. I could tell him my opinion on the matter was irrelevant, but I decided to pursue the question.

  “I suppose that depends on a number of factors, not the least of which is knowing yourself well enough to understand what type of person you’re looking for,” I said. “If you know which qualities you admire most in someone, you’re more likely to recognize that person when you meet her…or him. I prefer to call it recognition at first sight.”

  I avoided looking at Aubrey, but I had to meet her eyes as she posed another question.

  “In your opinion, what are the other factors contributing to this recognition at first sight, Daniel?” she asked casually.

  All eyes were on me. “Frame of mind, I suppose. There are times when you simply couldn’t fall in love if you tried because you’re not in the right place in your life. The conditions surrounding the actual meeting might also hold some sway. Certain circumstances seem to set the scene for emotional vulnerability, and you get swept away in the moment.”

  “That’s so true,” Trina said. She looked almost wistful.

  Again, I tried to bring the conversation back around to the play. “And that’s the case for Romeo, wouldn’t you say? He’s fond of the notion of being in love, and once he sees Juliet at the ball and decides she’s the one for him, he’s doomed. That’s the root of the tragedy. The only thing keeping them apart is the fact that they’re from feuding families. The so-called ‘rules’ of their social situation, who they are—that’s all that ultimately stands in the way of their potential for happiness.”

  Trina shook her head. “That sucks.”

  “It certainly does,” I said.

  Aubrey was aimlessly twirling a lock of hair while staring down at her notebook, lost in thought. Thinking about us? Our predicament? Fortunately, ours was neither fatal nor permanent. Somehow that didn’t make the waiting any more enjoyable.

  I steered the tutorial to safer territory, and then, all too soon, it was time to go. A feeling of desolation washed over me. Little black words on a screen—that’s all we’d have for two days. I watched as everyone rushed for the door, thrilled to start their weekend, while I lingered, dreading mine. Aubrey and Julie gathered up their belongings.

  “Have a good weekend, Daniel,” Julie said as they walked toward the door.

  “You too.”

  “Bye,” Aubrey said, with a wave and a lovely smile.

  I raised my hand and tried to smile back but thought, Don’t go. My car is right outside. Let’s go somewhere, anywhere. Of course, this couldn’t happen. I had somewhere else I needed to be, and Aubrey was determined to keep her promise to my father.

  I packed up my bag and left, checking my phone for messages as I walked. Not more than thirty seconds later, my phone vibrated—a text from Aubrey.

  I’ll miss you this weekend, but only 34 days left.

  That’s all. We can do this.

  Have a good meeting and email me later, okay? -A

  I paused on the sidewalk to type out a quick reply.

  Thanks, I needed that.

  I hated watching you walk away--except for the view.

  I’m going to miss you like crazy,

  and I’ll be thinking of you constantly. -D

  I made my way to Martin’s office. He was sitting at his desk, his door open wide.

  “Daniel, come in and have a seat,” he said. “Good tutorial?”

  “Yes, it was. It’s a nice class. There are some really fabulous students. Of course, there are a few needy ones thrown in the mix, too.”

  “That’s usually the way. And you’re good with the plan for the sonnet assignment?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. We’ll talk more about that later. For now, I’d like to discuss these tests. I had a look through the pile while you were conducting your tutorial, and I must say, I’m a little perplexed.”

  “How so?”

  Jesus, I’d frigging agonized over those tests. Where could he possibly find fault with them?

  He tossed one of the booklets on the desk in front of me and jabbed his finger at the mark at the top, his forehead creased with concern. “How do you explain that?”

  I leaned over to take a closer look. Fuck. It was Aubrey’s test.

  Aubrey

  Chapter 14

  Grace and Fa
ults

  Both grace and faults are loved of more and less;

  Thou makest faults graces that to thee resort.

  As on the finger of a throned queen

  The basest jewel will be well esteem’d,

  So are those errors that in thee are seen…

  (Sonnet 96)

  “COME ON, AUBREY.” Julie rested her chin on my shoulder as I typed. “It’s time to take a break.”

  She’d been circling my room for fifteen minutes, waiting for me to finish a concluding paragraph for an essay. My thoughts weren’t gelling, and her pacing wasn’t helping.

  “I told you I need to finish my term paper before all this other shit starts to pile up.”

  “What other shit? The sonnet analysis? You could write that in your sleep. Take a break.”

  I spun around in my chair, peering up at her. “Don’t forget, we have to go see Much Ado this week and write a paper on that. Plus, I have four other lit courses to deal with. I’m starting to freak.”

  She tugged at my hand. “Just an hour of girl talk. Come on.”

  “You’re killing me, bun-head.” I groaned, letting her drag me to the bed where we both flopped onto our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

  “You need to tell me about that LV umbrella hanging on your doorknob. Tell me it’s not real.”

  “Um, actually, it is,” I admitted.

  “Let me guess—”

  “Yes, Julie, it’s from Daniel.”

  “Christ on a cracker! Gloves and an umbrella? He is so jonesing for a blow job.”

  “Are you suggesting that I’m allowing him to buy sexual favors from me? Because that’s absurd.”

  “Oh really?” she said archly, rolling onto her side and narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Yes, really.” I paused for a moment for dramatic effect. “I would totally blow him for free.”

  Her laugh echoed around my room. She was still snickering as she reached over the side of the bed, grabbing her knapsack.

  “While we’re on the subject of gifts from Daniel—here.” She handed me a Chapters bag. I peeked inside. It was Sarah Waters’ latest book in hard cover. “Jeremy gave it to me last night,” she said. “It’s from Daniel. He knows you love her and that you wouldn’t buy it for yourself.”

  I slid my hand across the smooth dust jacket. “I told him I couldn’t afford it.”

  “Is money really that tight?”

  “I owe my parents nearly a thousand dollars for my flight.”

  “Was your mom shopping around? My flight to Germany wasn’t that expensive.”

  “Your dance studio booked over a year ago.”

  “This is true.”

  “You getting psyched about your trip?” I asked her, knowing she was probably stoked to go to Germany with the girls from the studio.

  “Excited out of my gourd. The showcase will be stressful, but, once it’s done, the rest of the time will be mine. I wonder if we can try to meet up somewhere.”

  “What, like somewhere in the middle, you mean?”

  “Yeah, you know, in France or something.”

  “I’d love to go to France.” I sighed, blinking up at the ceiling as I hugged the book to my chest.

  “You miss him a lot, eh?”

  “This sucks. His emails are wonderful, but I’d rather hear him say all that stuff to me in person.”

  “You should have taken my advice, Aubrey. Now that you’ve kissed him, you know exactly what you’re missing.”

  “You’re probably right. But honestly, if you’d been there that night at the Palais Royale, dancing and drinking champagne after he’d been so sweet and apologetic, you wouldn’t have cock-blocked him either. It felt right, you know?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I understand. I just think it’s going to make the rest of the semester so much more difficult.”

  I cringed. I already missed him so much. How could things possibly get worse?

  Later, I took a break from my pile of homework to email Daniel. I’d made a pact not to send him a constant flurry of messages, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

  From: Miss_V

  To: Jung Willman

  Date: Sun, Mar 29, 9:34:16 PM

  Subject: Tipping the Velvet anyone?

  Hiya handsome,

  Thanks so much for the book. Julie came to visit today and dropped it off. When it first came out, I stood in the store with it in my hands, but I couldn’t bring myself to drop 35 bucks. Did you know Waters has a book called Tipping the Velvet? That day in the library at Hart House when you told me your desire for me tasted like the sweetest velvet, were you plagiarizing by any chance?

  Speaking of which, I’m almost ready to upload my term paper to the plagiarism-detection site. Will you be reading my paper at some point? I hope you don’t think I’m a dolt. LOL.

  Okay, I really have to get back to work, but I wanted to thank you for the book and tell you that I miss you. We’re getting there, sailor. Very soon. You should probably start preparing yourself now. In 32 days, I’ll be all over you like a bad rash!

  Your poppet

  I couldn’t help laughing after I’d clicked “send.” A bad rash? That didn’t sound terribly appealing. What a doofus. I turned up the alert on my phone and then spent some time planning my wardrobe for the next day and putting away my laundry. True to form, Daniel’s reply arrived with a chirp within twenty minutes.

  From: Jung Willman

  To: Miss_V

  Date: Sun, Mar 29, 9:53:48 PM

  Subject: Tipping the Velvet…

  Hello, Miss V.

  I’m so happy to hear from you! I hope you’re not working too hard. I have heard of Tipping the Velvet. I love it. (The book’s okay too…) But seriously, you should read it. If the idea of an erotic love story between two women doesn’t turn you off, I think you’ll quite enjoy it.

  And you’re right—when I said I wanted you so badly I could taste it, perhaps my use of the word “velvet” was borrowed from that book, and now that I’ve tasted your fingers, your neck, your lips, your tongue—let’s just say I’m waiting with bated fucking breath to confirm that every inch of your beautiful body tastes of sweet velvet. And rest assured, I’ll do much more than “play the tip.” I suppose I’d best leave it at that before I get carried away. Goodnight, crazy legs, and sleep tight. Words don’t come close to explaining the way I feel when I’m not able to see you.

  -D

  P.S. Will I need some topical cream to deal with this rash? Lubricant perhaps? See you soon.

  I laughed, loving the way he would cheekily skirt around issues and then be so sweet and adorable. I could almost hear his voice murmuring in my ear as he’d done the night we kissed after leaving the Palais Royale.

  I was right. You do taste like sweet velvet—the champagne chaser is definitely a bonus.

  I snapped my laptop closed, quickly crossed off Sunday March 29th on my calendar, and crawled into bed. Closing my eyes, I imagined Daniel licking his way from my neck to my breasts, continuing down my body, his fingertips slipping purposefully between my thighs…

  It’s an unfortunate reality, but true. Sometimes the only way to deal with life-threatening sexual tension was to take matters into your own hands.

  “Have you noticed that Daniel really likes to use his hands—when he talks, I mean?” Julie whispered to me in class the next day, a naughty expression on her face. We’d sat through our Monday lecture, and now Daniel was walking us through the sign-up procedure for the performance of Much Ado About Nothing and the sonnet conferences coming up the following week.

  I kicked her foot, and she smothered a snort. She was echoing my own dirty thoughts, though. Daniel had one hand on his hip, but was gesturing animatedly with the other as he spoke. My face grew warm as I remembered how I’d fantasized about him the night before. I couldn’t wait until his fingers brought me pleasure instead of my own. I continued watching him intently while he answered questions.

  From somewhere behind m
e, I heard Lindsay’s insipid voice. “Daniel, do you need to know what sonnet we’re doing ahead of time, so you can, like, read it before our conference?”

  “You can tell me if you’d like, but I’m fairly comfortable with the sonnets. I’m sure I’ll be able to keep up. Feel free to surprise me if you’d prefer.” He smiled indulgently.

  I had to admit, he had his moments of cockiness. I may have been falling head over heels in love with Daniel, but I wasn’t completely blind to his faults. This was a good thing.

  “So, these are your tests. I don’t have time to chat about them now, but you’re welcome to make an appointment if you have any questions,” Daniel said, fanning the booklets out on the front table.

  Everyone took turns rooting through the pile. Some people dashed out the door without looking at their papers while others stood and leafed carefully through their test booklets. Julie glanced at hers, gave me a hug, and rushed off to a rehearsal.

  I stared at my test, trying to decipher the writing scribbled across the top. There were two marks, one of them crossed out. Either my eyes were deceiving me, or it looked as though Daniel had given me a perfect grade. Holy shit! What the hell was he doing? Talk about losing his objectivity!

  I waited for everyone else to filter out of the room, and then I stood in the empty aisle, watching Daniel collect his things. He looked up at me expectantly.

  “Yes, Miss Price? Something you wanted to ask?”

  I looked over my shoulder to make sure we were alone before approaching the desk.

  “Daniel, what’s this all about?” I held up my test. “What were you thinking?”

  “Miss Price, I don’t have time to talk about it right now,” he said, all business. “I need to get to tutorial. Perhaps we could meet afterward to discuss it.” He had a smug smile on his face.

  “Very clever,” I said softly.

  “Why don’t we meet at the Hart House library, say at ten past two?” he suggested, maintaining his business-like tone.