Scarlet hurried down the row, and as she did, Maria glanced at her, then pointedly looked away.
Scarlet walked past her, feeling hurt. On the one hand, she understood. From Maria’s perspective, Scarlet had stolen Sage away. But that wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair. Sage had never liked Maria; Scarlet had even tried to set them up, and he just didn’t like her.
Scarlet felt that Maria should realize that, and that the way she was acting just wasn’t fair. She was living in a fantasy. Sage would’ve ended up with someone else, whether it was Scarlet or not.
But Maria could be so possessive and territorial and jealous that if anyone ever even talked to anyone she remotely liked, she took it as a personal insult. For Maria, this was like a nuclear bomb. Scarlet hoped that she would be big enough to get over it, because Scarlet wasn’t going to let Sage go. But clearly, Maria was not budging. This time, it was bad. In all the years she had known her, she had never seen Maria like this, so furious at her. Scarlet had a sinking feeling that this would be the end of their relationship.
The thought saddened Scarlet as she took her seat in the back row, set down her books, and turned and looked out the window. If that was how Maria wanted it, then that was how it would be. After all, after tonight, Scarlet wouldn’t be here anymore anyway. Soon, none of this would matter anymore. Soon, she would be with Sage, far away from here.
“Okay class, please open to Act Five, Scene Three of Romeo and Juliet,” Mr. Sparrow said. “The famous tomb scene. Show of hands: how many of you read this last night?”
A few hesitant hands rose.
“Very good. So then you will know what I’m talking about.”
Scarlet zoned out, as her thoughts turned back to Sage. She thought again of last night, of all that he told her, of who he was, who his family was. She remembered that orb he had created, in her palm, remembered watching it float away. She believed him. It was obvious, he was not like anybody else. And she felt in her heart that the two of them were meant to be together. Two immortals. Two different types of creatures. Unlike anyone else on earth. They were destined for each other.
Most of all, he understood her. He didn’t make fun of her when she said she was a vampire; he understood. He wasn’t even surprised. And he wasn’t afraid. For the first time, it made Scarlet feel comfortable in her own skin, in who she was becoming. It also made her feel greatly relieved that she could be around Sage without wanting to feed on him.
But Scarlet then thought of Sage’s limited life span, of his few weeks left to live, and she felt overwhelmed with sadness. It wasn’t fair. To find the love of her life, and only have a few weeks to be with him—it just wasn’t fair.
“And that is what makes this play different,” the teacher announced. “Romeo and Juliet each decide to die for each other. Without their love, they feel that life is not worth living. They are just from two very different families. Families that want to tear them apart. When all they want is to love each other.”
Scarlet looked up, paying attention to Mr. Sparrow’s words for the first time. She looked up at the lines he’d written on the board:
O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.
“Juliet’s last words, as she kills herself with Romeo’s dagger. That is what makes it a love story. Their sacrifice. How many of us are willing to sacrifice like this for love? Will any of us ever encounter a love this great?”
Scarlet thought about that. Romeo had given up his life for Juliet’s; Juliet had given up her life for Romeo. Shouldn’t she give Sage her necklace? Why was her life worth more than his?
The class sat there, in silence, when suddenly the bell rang.
As everyone headed for the door, Scarlet noticed Maria hurry out faster than the others, clearly wanting to avoid her. Scarlet sadly gathered her things, still thinking of Mr. Sparrow’s words, and headed for the door—when she heard a voice behind her.
“Scarlet?”
She turned, and saw Mr. Sparrow sitting on the edge of his desk.
“Are you okay? Usually, you’re the first one to answer. Today you seemed a bit…out of it.”
She was touched by his concern. He was the only teacher that ever even noticed, or cared.
“I’m fine. It’s just that…” She stopped, wondering what to say. “I guess it’s just that there’s a lot going on for me right now. But I love the play. And I love everything you said.”
He smiled back.
“I know high school can be overwhelming,” he said. “So much stress at once. Especially in this year. My advice to you is to just try to focus on the work before you. Allow yourself to get lost in the text. Shakespeare’s writing is four hundred years old, but if you really get lost in his stories, in his characters, you’ll be surprised to see that everything he wrote about is still relevant today. We learn that others have suffered from the same things as we, for hundreds of years. We are no different. That connection to history, to others—it can help you make it through.”
She thought to herself: he has no idea how right he was.
“Thank you, Mr. Sparrow. For everything,” she said meaningfully, knowing this would be the last time she ever saw him again. “I just want you to know, I really enjoyed this year.”
“The year is not over yet!” he said, with a smile.
“I know. I just want to say, if for some reason I don’t see you again, thanks for everything.”
He gave her a puzzled look, but before he could ask what she meant, she hurried from the room.
Scarlet walked into the hall and spotted Maria, closing her locker. Maria began to turn, and Scarlet hurried over to her. She figured it was now or never: she wanted to clear the air, and at least voice her side of the story.
“Maria,” she said.
Slowly, reluctantly, Maria stopped and turned. She was scowling back.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
Scarlet was taken aback by her anger.
“Look, I’m really sorry about whatever it is you think happened, but I didn’t steal Sage. You have to know that.”
“Oh no? So what did you do exactly? He just walked away by himself?”
“It’s not like that. I tried to set you two up. I really did. But he just wasn’t into you.”
Maria scowled, embarrassed.
“Is that what he said? Or is that what you are saying?”