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JULIET VALENTINE STRUTTED into her english class like she owned it. the boys barked compliments at her, well, they catcalled her, but their feeble minds wouldn't understand the difference. joey's face came into view and her fist clenched at her side, his derogatory words filling her with an unspeakable rage.
the girl took her seat behind cat, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she gazed at her teacher. as much as cherry loved kat, her definition of feminism didn't quite match the dark haired girl's. and the only person who seemed to share this view was mr. morgan, who never failed to put the elder stratford sister in her place.
"all right, not that i give a damn, but how was everybody's weekend?" the teacher asked, boredom clear in his tone.
"oh, i don't know. maybe we should ask juliet." joey responds and the girl snaps her head towards him, a glare and scowl prominent on her face.
"or we could ask the kids at the elementary school you're not allowed five feet within?" she retorts. the faces of her classmates hold shocked expressions, jaws dropped at the comment she had made and how harsh it was, whilst all mr. morgan did was laugh.
"ok, unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb butt, i don't want to hear about it." the teacher joined in as joey's face fell. in her head, juliet thanked her teacher. "okay, let's open up our books to page 73, sonnet 141. and listen up."
as the class slowly started to open their books, mr. morgan started to recite the sonnet before the student's could even find it. "in faith, i do not love thee with mine eyes. for they in thee a thousand errors note but 'tis my heart that loves what they despise. who, in despite of view, is pleas'd to dote."
juliet's smile is one of glee and surprise, for she was not expecting his words to fall out like that. it was entertaining, yes, but also incredibly impressive. she couldn't recall a single time where mr. morgan had read out a sonnet like that.
"now, i know shakespeare's a dead white guy," the teacher started to round his podium and walk down the space between two desk rows "but he knows his shit, so we can overlook that. i want you all to write your own version of this sonnet." the class groans as mr. morgan reached the back of the class, and he grimaces as he knows what is to come. "yes, miss i-have-an-opinion-about-everything?"
"do you want this in iambic pentameter?" kat questions, and mr. morgan is taken back by the question, walking over to her desk in shock.
"you're not gonna fight me on this?"
"no, i think it's a really good assignment."
"you're just messing with me aren't you?" he giggles. "she's just messing with me, right?" he turns to ask juliet, who shakes her head in surprise.
"no, i'm really looking forward to writing it." and she does. kat stratford, instead of her usual resting bitch face (alongside a bitchy personality) had a smile, eyes wide with inspiration and hope.
