She couldn’t help turning just a bit, too, looking behind her, at Sage. Instead of looking at the teacher, oddly, Sage looked at her as he spoke.
“Romeo and Juliet was based on a poem by Arthur Brooke: The Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Iuliet.”
“Very good!” Mr. Sparrow said, sounding impressed. “And for extra points, might you know the year it was written?”
Scarlet was amazed. How had Sage known that?
“1562,” Sage replied, without hesitating.
Mr. Jordan looked happily surprised.
“Amazing! I’ve never had any student get that. Bravo, Sage. Since you’re such a scholar, here’s one final question. I’ve never known anyone—even among my peers—to get this right, so don’t feel badly if you don’t. If you get it, I’ll start you off with an automatic 100 on your first test. Where and when was the play first performed?”
The entire class turned in their seats and looked at Sage, the tension running high. Scarlet looked, too, and saw Sage smile back at her.
“It is believed to have been first performed in 1593, at a small venue called The Theatre, on the opposite side of the Thames.”
Mr. Jordan shouted out in excitement.
“WOW! My Sage, you are good. Wow, I’m impressed.”
Sage cleared his throat, not finished.
“That is the common understanding,” Sage said, “but in truth, it was actually performed once before that. In 1592. In Elizabeth’s castle. In her courtyard, amidst her private orchard.”
Scarlet looked back at Sage, speechless. His eyes had a far-off look, almost as if he were remembering being there himself. She couldn’t understand.
Mr. Sparrow’s smile fell.
“Oh, you were doing so good, Sage. I’m sorry. I’m afraid you are mistaken there. You should have quit while you were ahead—you actually had it right the first time. It was never performed before 1593.”
“Actually, I’m sorry sir, but I am correct,” Sage insisted gently but firmly.
Mr. Sparrow looked back at him, eyes opening wide in amazement.
“And what is your source?” he asked.
There was a long pause, as Sage sat there, apparently thinking. Scarlet was amazed. Who was this kid?
“I have none,” he said finally.
Slowly, Mr. Sparrow shook his head.
“I’m afraid without a source, we can’t verify, can we? I’ll tell you what: find me the source, and I’ll gladly reinstate your 100.
“In the meantime class,” Mr. Sparrow continued, “it’s time to break off into partners. Please find one, proceed to the benches, and open to Act one, Scene Five.”
There was a loud shuffling in the room, as everybody rose and headed over to the long benches on the side of the room.
“Remember, it’s a boy-girl scene!” Mr. Sparrow yelled out. “I want girls partnered with boys, and vice versa!”
Scarlet was about to partner up with Maria until he made this announcement, throwing her off.
“OMG, what should I do?” Maria whispered as she hurried over. Maria, flushed, was staring at Sage, who was just getting up.
“This is my chance,” Maria said. “I have to partner with him.”
“Go for it,” Scarlet said, half-heartedly. She wanted Maria to be happy, but she couldn’t help it: another part of her wanted to partner with Sage herself.
Scarlet headed over to the long, wide benches on the far side of the room and took a seat alone at the far end, beneath a window, all alone. She unfolded her book before her. Since she wasn’t going to partner with Sage, she didn’t really care who she partnered with: she didn’t like any of the boys in this class. She figured she’d just sit there and wait for one of them to come up to her, because she didn’t really feel like seeking one of them out.
She looked up and watched Maria approach Sage. Maria went right over to him, and was the first to reach him; Scarlet noticed other girls trying to get to him, too, but Maria was first. She had her chance.
Sage turned and glanced at Maria, and Maria stepped forward. She opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped. She froze up.
“Hi,” Maria said to him, apparently too scared to say anything else.
“Hi,” he said back.
He waited a few seconds, but Maria stood there, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Finally, she turned away, her face red.
Scarlet could not believe it. Maria turned and headed in her direction, and as she did, two other girls walked up to Sage.
But Sage turned his back on them, and instead looked right at Scarlet. To Scarlet’s horror, he bee lined right for her.
She looked down, burying her head in the play. A part of her willed him to talk to her. But another part willed for him not to; it would be a like a slap in the face to Maria.
Oh my god, she thought. I can’t believe this is happening to me. Why here? Why now?
She looked up as he took a seat on the bench opposite her, facing her across the wooden table. He smiled as he stared at her.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked.
Scarlet turned red, not knowing what to do. She shook her head and looked back down, hoping that Maria wasn’t watching this.
“You can sit wherever you want,” she said.
“What I was really asking was if you would be my partner?” he continued.
Scarlet looked up. She could hardly ignore him at this point. Now Maria was standing beside her, looking down, watching. She could see in Maria’s eyes that she was desperate, silently begging her to say no.
“Actually,” Scarlet said, wanting to be a loyal friend, despite her own feelings for Sage, “I think you’d be a really perfect partner for my friend, Maria.”
As she said it, Scarlet got up, slid out of her seat, grabbed Maria, and slid her into the seat she had just been in.
She saw Maria flustered, but happy, break into a big smile, as she reached out an awkward hand.
“I’m Maria,” she said to Sage.
Sage, clearly not wanting to be rude, reached out and shook her hand, and Maria shook his way too hard, awkwardly, smiling like an idiot.
“I know,” he said. “I just heard. Pleased to meet you.”
Scarlet sat beside Maria, feeling sad but good that she had been as loyal as can be. As she did, a boy sat opposite her.
Oh no, she thought. Not him.
Spencer. He was a geeky kid, covered in acne, his shirt buttoned up to his neck. He smiled at her, revealing a mouth full of braces.