Hey! Tonight will be the second time that I will only be posting one chapter, because it's super long - and ends with a juicy cliffhanger.
scenester7002: Hope your problem clears up! Still very glad you're reading, and I hope you get all the good parts at least, if nothing else.
Mrs.Scott323: Ya gotta love Jocelyn, so classy and yet so fun. And about the letter - have you noticed any changes in Faye's personality? ;)
Fortunately, Meghan's nose wasn't broken. But something else was fractured, and that thing was the faith of Faye's friends in Meghan.
Because while Meghan had been allowed to return to class after her nose stopped bleeding with nothing but a small bump on her head (amazing for the bashing it took), Faye and the others were all sent home with suspensions. Meghan hadn't been sure what to do.
The prank hadn't been meant for her, but it had been meant for someone, and what difference did it make who it was meant for? And though she knew that Ayaka, as innocent and oblivious as she was, had no part of it - there was no way Meghan could've proven that. The only one Meghan was able to testify for was Faye, who'd been with Meghan the whole time.
But the strangest thing had happened, when Meghan went to the headmaster's to put in her two cents.
"Faye came to school with me. I know that she had no part in it."
"Is this true, Miss Winthrop?"
Faye had looked down, silent for a minute.
"It is true that I went to school with Meghan. But I am just as much, if not more, at fault as they are." she'd said, motioning toward the four other girls. "In fact, it was my idea."
The headmaster had just looked at her, stunned, along with everyone else.
"Your idea to have the exchange student, who's staying with you, be hit with a bucket?"
Faye had stared to the side for a moment.
"No. The prank wasn't aimed for her."
"Who, then?"
"Clarissa. Meghan was trying to stop us."
This shocked Meghan. By admitting to organizing a prank against Clarissa, Faye had just done the equivelent of admitting to trying to prank the headmaster himself. Clarissa was linked to Jocelyn Dashwood. And Jocelyn Dashwood had funded the new computer lab they'd just had built - and probably a considerable bonus in Mr. Raspron's pay every once in a while.
Needless to say, this caused to headmaster to absolutely boil. The punishments of all five girls were extended from one day to three. And Faye, the alleged "ringleader", recieved FIVE days.
Meghan couldn't believe what Faye was doing. Her education was so important to her. But what would a five-day suspension look like on her permanent record? What would the big wigs at Oxford think when they read her transcript? This was CRAZY.
"Faye, don't do this. You know what you said isn't true. You're innocent. You wouldn't do something like that..."
But Faye had just bowed her head as she was led out the door, the other four behind them. Emily, Bridgett, and Samantha had scowled at Meghan until they reached the end of the hall.
Meghan had watched them the whole way. Faye had only turned once, looking at Meghan, forlorn, before bowing her head once again as she turned the corner and went out of sight.
"Jocelyn will hear of this, you can be sure." Mr. Raspron fumed to Meghan. "But I'll make sure to tell her of the brave girl who put a stop to the incident."
Meghan looked at him.
"Don't bother." she said, before walking off toward Ms. Blithe's class, rubbing her head.
Well, as you can tell, I was already having a pretty crummy day. So by the time I got to English class, I was too scatterbrained to think anything about the man who was sitting near Ms. Blithe's desk.
You may remember that day in town, when I'd seen those five people up at the podium. Two of them were related to my cousin, on was a blood-sucking leech, and one was a wannabe Business Barbie doll - though, if you ask me, she would've been better suited as Lumberjack Barbie. He he.
The remaining person was someone I'd branded as being "creepy", with the name "Shakespeare's evil twin". Despite this, however,
I still had given this guy the benefit of the doubt, you know? I mean, as much as Faye had said against the woman "Glynnis" and her daughter Clarissa (whose dispicableness I've seen firsthand), she'd said nothing about that guy. Actually, I didn't even know his name.
Until today.
Anyway, there I was, all drowsy and out of it as usual, and the bell had just rung, and Ms. Blarf was getting up to speak.
"Class." she said, in a slightly less droning voice than usual,"I am very pleased and honored to present to you this day a very special guest speaker, Mr. Alaistar Payne, who as you all must know is Clarissa's grandfather, and advisor to Lord Dashwood. I would like you all to give him your full and undivided attention as he speaks to you this afternoon."
This, of course, is a bit of news to me, but as you always must do at this school, I do as I am told. So, exhausted, I clamped my hands together on my desk in the front row, rather like I used to do in first grade. I drowsily tilted my head up. There might be something interesting here, I thought.
"So at this time, sir, " she says, turning to him, "I'll go ahead and turn them over to you."
She motions for him to get up, and he complies. Then, she plops down in her seat as the man takes the stage.
"Well." he says, with a bit of an undisposed air in his voice, "Thank you for that, er, lovely introduction, Ms..."
"Blithe." she finished for him, with a little more drone.
"Blithe." he repeated. "Yes, thank you. Well then. Hello to all of you, especially you, my dear Clarissa..."
He eyes her with a funky grin, she throws a ditsy wave, blah blah blah.
"And I must say, I really can hardly contain my (cough) enthusiasm, to be talking to a portion of this year's exiting class."
That was clear sarcasm, which told me he'd probably rather be somewhere else. Join the club, buddy.
"But here there is something I must say. There are many things I loathe, ladies, many, many things I loathe. But perhaps one thing that I loathe the most is the lack of knowledge of classic English literature in today's generation."
Oh, boy. This was gonna be fun.
"Now as you know, I have a very prominant, high-profile position in British society. But let me tell you, I did not get to that point overnight. I worked for it."
He said this with a little more vigor.
"I studied. I solved. I took risks. But most of all, I read."
He pauses for a moment and puffs up his chest.
"I will elaborate. Who here is familiar with the poet and playright, Shakespeare?"
Ha! So he IS the evil twin! Worry not, Shakespeare, for I will defend your honor... I'm thinking.
But for the moment I just raise my hand, along with the rest of the class.
"Yes." he says through his teeth in a low voice, throwing us a peircing stare. "I figured as much. But how many of you have the entire works of Shakespeare committed to memory?"
All of us, including Clarissa, put down our hands.
"Ah." he says with a conceited grin. "That is something I have in my possession, along with a wealth of other knowledge."
For the record, I highly doubt that. I'm just saying.
"Now, of course, I'm not expecting all of you to go that far. We must be realistic - you'd probably push yourselves too far. But how many of you have read at least three of Shakespeare's plays?"
My hand went up again, and so did all the others.
"Yes, yes, good, fair enough. But here in lies the problem. I am willing to bet that not one of you in this room could recite an actual portion of a Shakespearian play. And that disgusts me, because of the sheer ignorance that has developed of those and many other works of great literature."
We all just keep staring at him, like he's Winston Churchill or something. Ha, not even. Winston Churchill was probably rolling in his grave.
"Let me illustrate for you. You're all familiar with that famous soliloquy in Romeo and Juliet. The one recited by the friar."
I keep looking at him.
"I am willing to write a check of a hundred pounds of my own hard-earned money to any person in this room who can recite that speech in its entirety."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out.
"Here you see my checkbook, as proof that I am serious." He waves it up in the air. "I can do this because I am almost positive that not one of you can fulfill that request. Would anyone like to prove me wrong?"
Here, believe it or not, we reach a pivotal moment. For as I look around the room to see not a single hand raised, some heads bent, Clarissa shrinking down a little (ha ha), I find myself doing something utterly ridiculous. I look up to see my own hand raised, alone in the air.
The guy looks at me, confused for a moment, and then immedaitely gathers himself.
"My! I see we have a volunteer. I admire you, whoever you are - you're a very brave soul. For you see," he says, sauntering over to me and looking me in the face, "I am a very tough judge."
I lower my hand, wondering what took over my body that caused me to raise it.
"Well, go on then." he says, with a bit of annoyance. "Recite the speech."
So here I was. About to probably make a fool of myself, acting like a dancing puppet for someone who associated with my cousin's father. I take a deep breath.
"The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
and flecked darkness like a drunkard reels, from forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, the day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
with baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
what is her burying grave that is her womb, and from her womb children of divers kind
we sucking on her natural bosom find, many for many virtues excellent, none but for some and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies in herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, but to the earth some special good doth give,
nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; and vice sometimes by action dignified. Within the infant rind of this small flower
poison hath residence and medicine power: For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still in man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; and where the worser is predominant, full soon the canker death eats up that plant."
I know. Most likely, you did not expect that out of me - nobody else did. Ms. Blithe and everyone else looked like they'd just seen a three-headed monkey do a dance, which, I guess, is pretty much the equivelent of what I'd just done. Their mouths hung wide open. I couldn't even believe it. I couldn't believe myself.
Clarissa's gramps was the most stunned of all. He just stood there, flabbergasted, staring at me with astonishment. He then stepped back a bit, and looked over the class for what seemed like forever. Finally, he bagen to speak.
"See this?" he said, pointing toward me with a mixture of surprise and frustration. "This, my friends, is the most perfect demonstration of what I was only just telling you. I offered a hundred pounds. A hundred pounds! To anyone in this classroom! And only one girl put up her hand. And as a result, you just heard that timeless speech from that great play, recited perfectly..."
He looked at me.
"In an American accent."
I shrunk down in my seat.
"You should all be very ashamed." he said to the class. "And as for you, " he said, looking at me again, "You should be very proud. You just made a huge profit, while at the same time illustrating my point in the best way possible."
Even at this point, with that man staring at me and talking in his low, aggravated voice, I felt good. Actually, I felt really good. I'd just struck a passive-aggressive blow against Clarissa, and a valiant blow for the USA. See? We really DO care about other countries. I thought.
And as creepy as he was, I didn't think anything more against this "Alaistar Payne" than I did for "Prudence Blithe" or "Boeregard Harlison". After all, he was about to make a huge donation to the "Daphne's Airplane Ticket" fund. Just another grumpy guy - whatever. I can deal with that.
I sit up straight again with pride as he walks back over to me, opening up his checkbook.
"Now, who shall I write this out to?" he asked.
"Meghan, M-E-G-H-A-N."
He scribbled this down, and nodded.
"Beatrice, B-E-A-T-R-I-C-E." (I threw in my middle name to be fancy).
He nodded again.
"Reynolds. R-E-Y-N-O-L-D-S."
And all of a sudden, as I looked up at him, waiting for him to finish writing my name, his hand froze. He took his eyes off the checkbook and directed them straight at me. His face spelled utter and complete contempt. Something burned in his eyes.
And I just kept looking up at him, confused.
"Um, is something wrong?"
His gaze was still locked on me.
"Say that again?"
I said it again.
He slowly turned back to his checkbook, scribbled feverishly, and tore out the check, folding it in half an tossing it onto my desk. He then quickly stepped to the center of the room.
"And there you have it, class." he croaked, trying to contain what looked to be anger. "That could've been one of you, if not for your ignorance. I suggest you study, and acquire some actual knowledge."
He then grabbed his briefcase, and glared at me as he walked out the door. He had only spoken for ten minutes. The stunned teacher mulled over what to do for the rest of the hour.
Despite my strange way of ticking a person off without meaning to, I was feeling pretty good at that moment. Haza! Whatever! Clarissa hates me, let her grandfather hate me too! It wasn't Daphne's father, or her grandmother - so who cared?
But then I opened that check.
Oooh, cliffie.
Hope that was a surprising twist! Expect the next two up this Saturday!
-rf-