Theresa's Choice

Part 4

                  

They walked to the Mathematics room where some students had already settled in. The room was filled with lots of posters and banners containing various Mathematical jargons.

"You can sit beside me," said Tessa, "no one usually does."

Some other people began to enter the room, and it was filled with about twenty people. After a few minutes, Mr. Martin, their teacher in Mathematics, walked in sporting a comb over and wearing his usual brown suit.

"Good morning, class," said Mr. Martin in a slightly monotonous tone, "we have a new student with us today. Mr. Jones, could you please introduce yourself in front of the class?"

Nicolas stood up nervously and walked to the front.

"Uh-,"

"Your hood, please," said Mr. Martin. Nicolas put his hood down, revealing his black hair. A petite girl seated near the door giggled and twirled her blonde hair suggestively.

"My name is Nicolas Jones, and I'm seventeen years old," said Nicolas in one breath. He then immediately went back to his seat.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones," said Mr. Martin, "Now, class, our lectures, will be interrupted by the Choosing Ceremony this Thursday-"

"Friday, sir," said the petite blonde.

"Right, thank you, Ms. Peterson," said Mr. Martin, "I'm not too familiar with your customs here. Anyways, we will resume on Monday our lecture on conic sections which we will start today. Are there any questions?"

The class remained silent.

"No? Good," said Mr. Martin, "Let's start with parabolas."

The lecture continued and most of the students took out their notebooks to take down notes.

"Tessa," whispered Nicolas, "what is the Choosing Ceremony?"

"I'll tell you later," said Tessa," Mr. Martin gets very cross with people who talk during his lectures."

The rest of the day flew by with each period having its own mention of the Choosing Ceremony. It was only during lunch time when Tessa got the chance to properly explain to Nicolas the proceedings of the ceremony.

"The Choosing Ceremony is done every first Friday of the ninth month, September, to commemorate the founding of St. John's," said Tessa, "In the ceremony, those aged seventeen will gather to choose whom they will spend the rest of their lives with."

"Already?" exclaimed Nicolas in exasperation.

"Let me finish," said Tessa, "a man and a woman alternately picks one person. Once a person is chosen are has chosen, he or she may not go with another. That is equated with adultery and is punishable by death."

"Death?" said Nicolas with a shocked expression.

"Relax," said Tessa reassuringly, "no one has died in the last twenty years."

                "What if there are three men and one woman," said Nicolas, "what will the unchosen men do?"

                "They'll have to be together," said Tessa matter-of-factly.

                "Why do you do this?" asked Nicolas nervously, not getting the point of an absurd tradition.

                "The community advocates inclusion, not seclusion," said Tessa, "at seventeen years of age, it is desired that everyone has a partner with whom they can build a healthy relationship. It limits those who want to live alone. No one can live alone."

                "It's a good thing I already know who pick," said Nicolas.

                "Who?"

                "You, obviously"

                "That's if you don't get picked first," said Tessa, thinking of the girls who would want to pick him without getting to know him first. Over the day, Tessa saw the true Nicolas who was kind, sweet, and caring. He loved music and literature, the latter they have in common. They talked of books in recess, of stories they both had read and enjoyed. Tessa found it refreshing that she had someone to talk to. She thought she would be left alone when her friend had left. She was lucky to know Nicolas. Lately, she seemed to notice the growing number of girls who always seem to look their way. Nicolas was handsome, that fact Tessa admits. Yet, it bothers her that others would only want him for his looks and not for who he is.

                The bell rang. Lunch had ended and the last period of the day was about to begin.

                Literature was Tessa's favourite. The first reason was that she loved reading books and stories and the feeling of getting lost in the world of the author. She dreamed of being a writer some day when her books are being printed and published at the local publishing house. The community would read her books and be entertained, and ask her for more stories. That was what Tessa aspired to become.

                The second reason, more shallow than the first, was the fact that she would see her crush, James Painterly. James was sandy haired, slightly muscular, tall, and an enthusiast for literature. He was usually euphoric and had a lot of passion for his work. His eyes which were soft brown, and they twinkled and gleamed whenever he talked about literature with utmost conviction. He and Tessa were friends, though they weren't very close. She never mustered enough courage to talk to him, and she suffered the consequence daily. Now, however, some of the pain was alleviated because she had Nicolas with her. But still the regret lingered.

                The literature teacher, Mr. Castor, was Tessa's third reason for loving literature classes. She was her idol. He taught with so much sincerity, and everyone could see that he firmly believed in what he discussed. Not even the dullest minds can resist the charm and wit of Mr. Castor. The class now settled and patiently waited for him to enter.

                Mr. Castor walked in the room wearing his usual relaxed clothing and the air of professionalism and confidence.

                "I'm sure all your teachers have talked about the Choosing Ceremony today," said Mr. Castor while putting down his leather clipboard and other things on the desk. The class collectively groaned at the prospect of another lecture on the Choosing Ceremony.

                "Now, I'm only offering friendly advice," he said, "I have been told that over the past few years, the couples brought about by the Choosing Ceremony are happily married. None of them get into major problems or troubles."

                At this statement, the class looked around at each other but kept silent despite knowing that what Mr. Castor said was false. There have been many cases wherein the couples filed for a separation. Separation does not mean divorce; divorce and adultery were both punishable by death for those who pursue such. Separation just entails that the couple does not live together. Their marriage was still binding, the sanctity of which could not be broken. Of that, the Council was very strict.

                "I tell you this," Mr. Castor continued, "love lies not with emotion as it does with the brain."

                Mr. Castor usually explains life in this manner. His advice was vague but somehow easily understandable by all. He let a few moments of silence pass for his point to sink in.

                "Let's continue our discussion on Shakespeare," he said as he went on.