November:
"I have a very exciting surprise for you," Holt says, and Amy's once again frustrated by her inability to tell whether he's being serious.
"Oh, great," Jake mutters next to her. "Probably a super-duper fun pop quiz or something!"
"Mr. Peralta," Holt says sternly, "if you wish to speak in my class, you will need to raise your hand. We have been over this. And you will not be having a pop quiz. I have arranged for our class to take a field trip Friday evening to a performance of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. It should be a delightful evening full of laughter and poetry. That is all."
Amy gives an involuntary little hop in her seat, because this is pretty exciting news, honestly. Rosa shakes her head and rolls her eyes in response, but not disapprovingly, and she's glad that no one else seems to have noticed. Because, honestly, it's kind of embarrassing that she's this excited about Shakespeare, right? And they probably think that she's only pretending to get Holt to like her. Which, okay, she definitely does want him to like her, there's no denying that, but she's also legitimately excited, because Much Ado About Nothing is her favorite play, and Beatrice is her favorite heroine.
"I expect you," Holt was saying, "to have finished the play by Friday. You are to divide up into pairs and prepare scenes to read for the class. My past experience has indicated that leaving you to choose your own partners and scenes will result in tedious squabbling, so your assignments will be posted on the class webpage tonight. You may email me with questions."
Amy's assigned partner, she discovers that night, is Jake. She decides to take this as an indication of Holt's esteem for her, because clearly Jake needs someone to rein him in, and this means Holt trusts her with the task.
So she texts Jake that night, because they're going to need to start on this immediately if they're going to wow Holt.
AMY: When are you free tomorrow? We should start rehearsing.
JAKE: yeah is that really necessary though? i'm pretty sure i can read out loud without rehearsing
AMY: Come on! You know we need to practice intonation and emoting and all that stuff.
JAKE: i think the assignment was just to read the scene, chill
AMY: Have you never heard of going above and beyond?
JAKE: i think faint whispers may have reached my ears
AMY: Even if you don't care about this, I do, and I can't do well without your help.
JAKE: fine, i'm free third period.
AMY: YES! See you then!
The start of third period finds them in an unused classroom, holding printouts of the scene and looking at each other awkwardly.
"All right," Amy says, "it's your line first."
Jake clears his throat. "Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?"
"Yea, and I will weep a while longer."
"I will not desire that."
"You have no reason, I do it freely."
"Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged." Jake stops and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. You know I didn't read the play. What's going on?"
"Well, Beatrice-that's me-is sad because her cousin just got left at the altar by Claudio, who's a friend of Benedick-that's you."
"Got it."
"Ah," Amy continues, "how much the man might deserve of me that would right her!"
"Is there any way to show such friendship?"
"A very even way, but no such friend."
"May a man do it?"
"It is a man's office, but not yours."
"I do love nothing in the world so well as you, is not that strange?" Jake stops again. "Wait, what?"
"Oh yeah," Amy says, "also Benedick and Beatrice are in love, but they haven't admitted it yet."
"It looks like they just did," Jake says dryly.
"Well, yeah. That's part of the point of this scene. Did you not even read the SparkNotes?"
"I did not. Why bother when I have you?"
"Thanks ever so much."
"I do love nothing in the world so well as you...helping me with my homework."
"And to think you didn't want to rehearse."
"No, this is great. Now I can say something totally insightful in class, and Holt will think I read the play."
"Why don't you just read it? It's not even that long."
"We're going to see it in a few days, aren't we?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Clearly I don't wanna be spoiled."
"You're unbelievable."
"Say your lines, Beatrice. I thought we were here to rehearse."
Amy rolls her eyes, but picks the script back up again. He's right, after all. They're just working together on a project. It's not like they ever hang out normally: if they weren't in the same classes, she wonders, would they even be friends? Or, on the other hand, would they be better friends if she didn't for some bizarre reason see him as her rival?
Holt insists they present the scenes in the order they take place in the play, which means Amy and Jake don't have to go until near the end of the period. She wishes they were dead last, the better to make a strong positive final impression, but it can't be helped, so she settles in to watch her less-prepared classmates make fools of themselves.
Hitchcock and Scully are up first, and Amy can't believe Holt put them together; they're both such train wrecks that she finds herself simultaneously amused at their incompetence, irritated at the butchery of the text, and pleased that she has no competition on that front, at least. They stumble their way through a scene between Claudio and Don Pedro (Scully over-pronounces all the Italian names, and Hitchcock says "hear-tick" instead of "heretic," and Amy's dying with secondhand shame), and sit down to unenthusiastic applause from the class and a look from Holt that's probably disapproval.
Terry and Rosa are better, but for some reason Rosa's reading the man's part and Terry the woman's. Weirdly, it kinda works. Terry's not particularly subtle, but he's more than enthusiastic enough to make up for it, practically shouting his lines, and Rosa's more into it than Amy would have expected, snarling at him, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, stamping her laced combat boots with surprisingly well-timed emphasis. "You are more intemperate in your blood than Venus, or those pampered animals that rage in savage sensuality!"
There isn't even any snickering at the word "sensuality," a show of unusual restraint from this class. Even Holt's eyebrows are raised. "Ms. Diaz," he says, when they're done, "have you ever considered auditioning for one of the school plays? That was quite impressive."
"Thanks," Rosa says tersely, and sits back down again with an expression somewhere between embarrassment and pride. She returns Terry's high-five, though, and smiles back when Amy gives her a thumbs-up from across the room.
Because, yeah, Amy can so be happy for her friend's success, no matter how much she desperately wants Holt to be complimenting her. But Rosa and Terry are going to be a hard act to follow, and Jake and Amy are up next.
"Don't worry," he says in her ear on their way to the front of the classroom. "We got this."
And the beginning of the scene goes fairly well, if predictably. Jake manages to say all the lines as though he understands them (for which Amy takes full credit), and there aren't any awkward gaps or pauses in the dialogue.
"I protest," Jake says, with a strange blend of gallantry and humility, "I love thee."
"Why, then, God forgive me!"
"What offence, sweet Beatrice?"
"You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest that I loved you."
"And do it with all thy heart."
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."
"And, scene!" says Jake, bowing extravagantly before the class.
"That was...satisfactory," says Holt. "You two have excellent chemistry."
Which is a weird thing to hear from their English teacher.
Holt insists that they look "presentable" for the play that night, which means ties for the guys and skirts or dresses for the girls. Amy changes in an empty classroom after school, from jeans and a T-shirt into a dark blue A-line dress. She doesn't love the dress: she's more of a bright colors girl, truth be told, but every time she takes something pretty and daring out of her closet she ends up putting it back in again, too afraid (which is ridiculous) to wear it outside the house. So she's in sensible navy, and when she meets up with the rest of the class to go to the theater, no one comments on her outfit at all.
It's strange, seeing everyone dressed up; Charles and Terry fumbling with their ties, Gina in a ridiculous patterned skirt that somehow totally works, and Rosa, totally unexpectedly, looking absolutely fabulous in curve-hugging black. Charles' eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees her, and Amy can't fault him, because she herself is having trouble looking away.
"Damn, girl, you look terrific!" says Gina approvingly. "Who're you dressing up for?"
"Myself," Rosa snaps back, but she's got a little smile underneath, and she adds, "Thanks, though, glad you like it," in a barely audible mutter.
"What's up, my Shakes-peeps?" Jake strolls over, and Amy groans, because he's taken the command to wear a tie and run with it, sporting a bright green monstrosity with red dots.
"I wish I were color-blind," she says, shielding her eyes. "Seriously, why would you wear that?"
"Um, why would I not? It's awesome. Plus, I didn't own a tie, and this bad boy was ninety-five cents. It's a homage, if you will, to Macklemore, the Bard of our time."
"Why didn't you just borrow a tie from your dad or something?" Hitchcock asks, not that his tie is anything great.
"Because," Jake retorts, "I don't happen to have a dad anymore, thanks so much for reminding me."
Amy sucks in a breath. This is not good.
"Hey," she says to Jake, casually, "have you ever read any other Shakespeare plays?"
He gives her a weird look, and she herself isn't even really sure where she's going with this. "I haven't even read this one."
"So that's a no?"
"It is indeed."
"Okay, well, did you see The Lion King?"
"Um, do you mean, did I have a childhood? I still remember all the words to 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King.' That movie was my jam."
"Did you know that it's based on Hamlet?"
"Oh. Huh. Cool."
"Yeah," says Charles, and it seems he's picked up on Operation-Get-Jake's-Mind-Off-His-Dad, because he chimes in with, "And what about Ten Things I Hate About You? Definitely a teen rom-com for the ages. And based on Taming of the Shrew."
"Ugh," says Rosa, "I hate that movie. She's an awesome badass until some guy comes along and fucks it up, and we're supposed to think that's romantic? No thank you."
"Not 'some guy,'" Gina says with horror. "Heath Ledger. Makes all the difference."
"Nope."
Amy grins, because that's a social situation navigated with poise and grace, an awkward moment defused (and God knows she can't stand awkward moments).
Holt shows up, in the same suit he wore to teach class that day, and begins herding them down the street towards the subway. Amy's in the middle of the pack when she hears Jake's voice next to her.
"I noticed what you did there, you know."
"What?"
"Changing the topic. From my dad."
"Yeah, no problem."
"I just wanted to say thanks."
Amy squirmed. "You're welcome."
"And thanks for making me practice that stupid scene. I know I, uh, I didn't give you the easiest time about it. But, you know, it's people like you that get shit done, ambitious people, and it's kinda cool when slackers like me get to go along for the ride." Amy nods, not sure what to say back, because this is an awful lot of emotion from Jake. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at the ground, and they walk on for a moment in silence.
"Oh, and, uh," he says, glancing back up at her, "you look really pretty tonight."
Before she has time to say "thanks," or "what the hell," or "keep it in your pants, Peralta," he's fallen back into the crowd, and she's walking alone again.