A/N: Oh my god, I am so sorry. I have no excuse for leaving this un-updated for so long, but I am trying to not do that. So the rest of the chapters will probably be shorter (I'm shooting for about 1,000 words per chapter), but hopefully that'll make it easier for me to update often (also shooting for about once or twice a week, no promises though).
Also, so many thanks for all the reviews and favorites and follows and the assists in my crappy google-translate French, all of that ish helps motivate me to actually right something, and as you might be able to tell it takes a lot of motivation for me to right some shit.
Double also, this season is going to be the death of me.
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, own nothing even related to Orphan Black.
All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Chapter Three: The Stupidity of Youth
"This play has nothing to do with 'true love!' Romeo is a douche and Juliet is a naïve child." Cosima yelled after yet another girl started spouting off about she wanted to find a love as real as the kind Romeo held for Juliet.
"Really, Cosima? Please, do tell us what you think it's about." Mr. Moran leaned against the desk (where he'd been standing, barely speaking for the entirety of class) and gestured for her to continue.
"The entire play is basically Shakespeare making fun of teenagers. I mean Romeo is your typical testosterone-filled a-hole. He dumps Rosaline, his supposed true love, because she won't sleep with him and then like the next day he's all over Juliet. And Juliet, don't get me started on Juliet. This guy murders her cousin, gets himself banished, and she still freaking kills herself over him." She leans back against her desk, "It's pathetic."
"You don't kill yourself over some school-girl crush, though." I called out in response.
"You do if the entire play is a hyperbole used to demonstrate the stupidity of youth." She called back, nestling further into her desk.
"Yes, of course the young are stupid. We're naïve and brash and foolish, but we're hopeful and trusting and kind too." Cosima turned in her seat to watch me speak. "Of course it's an exaggeration, but to me it shows the sort of novelty of your first love. How head-over-heals in love you think you are because everything is still so new and exciting. And Shakespeare exaggerates those feelings even more than teenagers do, so it's only fitting that he exaggerates the result."
"But Romeo wasn't in love with her. He wanted to fuck her!" Her hands moved wildly as she leaned further out of her desk.
"Ms. Niehaus!" Mr. Moran shouted.
"Crossed the line, I know, I'm sorry." She settled back down. "My point still stands." She crossed her arms.
I rolled my eyes.
"Alright, alright. That's enough discussion for today. Your first essays are due tomorrow." Everyone groaned as the bell rung. "No excuses!" He called over the sounds of students packing up.
Cosima was always the first person out of the room. Everyday she would race out of the room, down the hall to meet Scott at his locker before they walked to Bio together, attached at the lips the entire walk there.
I usually took my time packing up to avoid the view.
As I was walking out, Mr. Moran called my name.
"Delphine, wait! I have the draft you emailed me. It's very good, though I'm surprised the essay does not match your in-class tone."
"I like to argue." I shrugged.
He chuckled.
"Well, anyway. I made some notes, marked a few grammatical errors, just some minor issues, nothing major, but other than that, you're golden."
"Thanks," I smiled as I took my paper.
As I turned the corner leaving the room, I nearly bumped into a tiny body.
"Whoa there. Take it easy, blondie." Cosima laughed as she took a step back.
"Maybe you shouldn't be hiding behind doorways." I shot back with raised eyebrows.
"I wasn't hiding, I was waiting."
"For who? For me?" I asked incredulously. She nodded. "Why aren't you running off to go eat the inside of Scott's mouth."
"Ha ha. He's home or something. I don't know." She flicked her hands as if she was flicking away the topic. "Anyway, I figured we could discuss the intricacies of Shakespearean literature on the way to class." Her voice was light, playful. She stood with her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels like she used to do when she was nervous.
"I, uh, I would, but I've got Geometry and it's kind of out of the way for you." I stammered, thrown by the invitation.
She started to back away while she spoke, "Oh, right. Yeah 'course. No problem, I'll just, I'll see you around."
She popped her headphones in and walked off before I had the chance to say anything else.
I shook my head and turned to head off to class.
Scott came back to school the next day. Cosima did not.
I heard a million different things from a million different people that day; everything from Scott hitting on another girl to Cosima punching him in the face to both of them getting in a fight with the drug cartel. High schoolers really can't be trusted with anything. But the general consensus was that Scott spent the day working up the nerve to break up with Cosima over unknown reasons and when he broke the news, she did not take it well at all.
I felt two very strong, very conflicting emotions. I was sorry for Cosima, she really liked Scott, loved him even, and she had to be devastated. And I really didn't want her to feel that way, no matter how little we spoke these days. But I was also horribly, terribly glad that they were no longer dating. It was selfish and cruel of me to feel that way, but I did and I as much as I wanted to, I couldn't control my feelings, no one can.
So, I glared at Scott in the hallways for hurting poor Cosima, but he kept his head down to avoid my eyes. I tried to pull him away from his friends so I could either beat him up for upsetting her or hug him for letting her go, but he always darted away before I could get close enough.
Cosima didn't come back until the next Monday. I expected, hell, everyone expected, her to look depressed and even angrier than usual. She and Scott had been longest lasting couple after all. But she walked into English that Monday with the slightest of smiles on her face. Her eyes looked a little brighter, maybe it was because they weren't hidden behind layers of eyeliner and hair, or maybe they really were just brighter. She looked a little kinder, a little softer.
She looked like my Cosima.
I didn't make any sense.
Good? Bad? Let me know if you're feelin' up to it.
Thanks for reading!
