The English teacher sat on her desk and eyed her class one by one, an idea formulating in head. It was the time of year where projects were assigned and yet nothing popped into her head. She looked down beside her for a quick moment and spotted the play 'Romeo and Juliet.' She smiled lightly as she remembered the ending. 'Twas a bittersweet ending but sweet nonetheless.
Then, it came to her.
"Class, this project requires partners. And I'm not talking about an ordinary project either. If you look at it, perhaps you will see a good side to this."
"Nothing good comes out of any projects," muttered a frowning student. Mrs. Delacruz laughed and got up from her desk to approach the board, ready to write down any requirements needed as she spoke them.
"Not at all, Eli. Anyway, since we already have read 'Romeo and Juliet', I think it's the appropriate time to assign this. You will be assigned partners-
The student, Eli, beamed. "We get to pick partners, right?"
"No, Eli." She laughed. "I will. This project does require you to write an essay. No project comes without an essay of some sort. Anyhow, you and your partner will spend every waking moment together until this Friday when this is due."
The kids began groaning.
"Hold it, hold it. The whole point of this assignment is to let you learn something. Basically, the only thing you will do is write an essay. Topic? Love. Write the relationship between Romeo and Juliet. Was it too simplistic? Too fast, perhaps? Anything that concerns them will do just fine. That's not a real hard subject is it?"
A murmur of 'no's' came about the classroom. Mrs. Delacruz nodded.
"Good. I will be posting up a piece of paper by the end of class, which your assigned partners will be written on. For now, however, work on the dittos I just handed out."
As most of the students filed out of the classroom after the dismissal of the bell that signified the end of the day, Clare went up to the piece of paper clipped at the front of the class and looked at her name.
Clare Edwards – Elijah Goldsworthy
She had a perfect idea of who he was. She just wasn't excited about it.
She approached the teacher's desk and waited for Mrs. Delacruz to look at her.
"Mrs. Delacruz, do you think I could get a different partner."
"Clare, sweetheart, I know you. You don't judge people until after you get to know them. Why not give this boy a chance?"
Clare let a small laugh escape her lips. "Are you kidding me? I mean . . . you know how he's like in class, don't you? You do know his reputation."
Mrs. Delacruz took off her glasses and set them aside.
"You can find out the most out-of-world thing a person can do if you simply get to know them. Eli isn't necessarily a bad person, though he has his moments, but I assigned you two for a reason."
"What would that reason be?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing I know is that I'm certain you will be able to teach him something or two."
Clare cocked her brows in ambiguity, trying to comprehend the last words her teacher said to her.
"Alright." She sighed. Turning on her heels, she walked outside the class.
It was definitely going to be a long week.
This called for coffee.
On to the coffee shop...
"Hey, my girl Clarebear is back."
Peter received a whine – something very unlike Clare.
"Okay, what's up?"
"Shakespeare has kicked my ass up front." She muttered angrily. "You know the project Mrs. Delacruz seems to pass out every year?"
"Yeah." Peter brought her a cup of Vanilla Dreams and sat in the usual spot, watching her tinker around with the porcelain mug in her hands.
"This year, she decided to add partners and you would not believe the person whom I'm supposed to work with."
"You got me."
"Eli Goldsworthy."
She failed to notice the surprised look in Peter's face. She also failed to notice the fact he began to fidget and look elsewhere.
"I mean, of all people, why him? It's not as if I hate the guy. It's just – he's terrible! I doubt on my life I'll be able to work with him." Clare stared at Peter. "You okay?"
"You might . . . wanna take another shift."
Her stare darkened. "Why?"
"I just hired a Eli Goldsworthy and coincidentally, he wanted the same work hours as you. In fact, he's a regular customer as well."
Clare blinked. "Excuse me? What about you? I thought you worked the same shift."
"Yeah, but I resigned a week ago remember? I needed the early shift because of my college classes. They're taking up time."
"Bloody hell. I swear on my mother's deathbed that if you were not a friend of mine, I'd kill you." She glared.
"I would fire him for you, babe, but I just hired him yesterday. He works his first shift today."
"I will kill you."
Clare stood up and exited the café to return home.
Peter rushed to the kitchen to get ready for his afternoon shift.
The crisp breeze, fragrant with the scent of flowers and early summer, danced in the late air. The sun beamed down upon Clare in a glaring manner and with that, she lifted off another peal of clothing, leaving her in a black tank top. She would have taken the car with her, except for the fact she had to go back to the café later. It also was a short distance from there to her house.
For the most part, she loved walking.
Finally, she reached the entrance gate to her house and was surprised to find a car – that was not hers – parked in front of her house. A young man was seated on her lovely porch, relaxing himself in the hammock-like bench. She noticed him immediately.
"What the hell are you doing here? I should remind you that this is private property."
"Know me, do you? Didn't know I was loved that much."
Clare rolled her eyes, not wanting to pick a fight right now. She brushed past him and unlocked the front door. As soon as she was about to slam the door in her face, a shoe-clad foot sneaked in between the door and its sheath, so to speak, to prevent the door from closing in on him.
"Not a really nice way to treat your guest now is it?"
She held the door where it was. "I'm not nice and you're not a welcomed guest, so do me an honorable favor and leave."
"I'll be working with you in a few hours. What difference would it make? Every waking hour remember?"
She stared at him wide-eyed. "You really think Mrs. Delacruz meant that literally? Take it for its figurative meaning, you obnoxious miscreant."
He leaned himself on the door. "I could possibly do that but not under these circumstances. I happen to love what I do."
"And what's that, pray tell? Bother innocent girls who would rather kiss a dog than to see your ugly face? I'm sure." She tried to close the door again. Again, it was futile.
"No. I would hardly call you innocent." He grinned. "Far from it actually."
"If I'm not mistaken, this is what we normal people call harassment. Fortunately for you, I'm not close to the phone to call the nearest police station." She said firmly, not breaking her ground as she stared into his bright hazel eyes in defiance.
He laughed and reached into his back pocket. Then, without hesitation, he threw the object towards her. On instinct – and quick reflexes – she caught it in both hands and stared down at it.
It was a cell phone.
"Make the call. See if I care."
Clare bit her tongue. After a much long silence, or rather a brief pause in their conversation, she opened the door wide enough to let the boy in.
"What do you want?" She asked tiredly. "My whole purpose was to sleep. I have a late shift."
He shrugged. "I'll wake you up when we have to go. Simple as that."
"Eli, as a regular bystander at school, I know how you're like. Nothing is simple to you."
"True. With you, it's more complex."