Perchance to Dream- Book I

Chapter 1: Precious

*April 28, 2010*

I guess it all started with Hamlet.

Briana Taylor sent me an email. The Briana Taylor. The one I've wanted to strangle to death since Foundations of Journalism freshman year.

When I read her email, I was in Union Square collecting my wits against the force of bodies merging and diverging along the block. I hurried over to the sticker-covered windows of the Whole Foods market on 14th St. and pulled out my phone. I had no idea what to expect, but her email's contents were not at all what I would have guessed, not in a million years.

From: Briana Taylor
To: Katherine Miller
Subject: Goodies!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010 10:37 AM

Do you have the topic for the final waaaay before everyone else? Oh you don't? I do! I do! And guess who's giving you the deets on it today? Don't do Ten Things I Hate About You. I'm doing it. You're welcome very much.

Choose a Shakespearean play, tragedy or comedy, and compose a comparative analysis with a mainstream film of the 20th Century. Include inaccuracies and probable causes. 15 pages, Times New Roman, 12 pt font, double-spaced, MLA standard.

xoxo, Briana

For all I knew, she could be lying. She was the type. I rolled my eyes as I hit reply.

From: Katherine Miller
To: Briana Taylor
Subject: Re: Goodies!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010 10:41 AM

You're kidding. Why are you doing this for me?

Ummm... thank you?
-Katherine

Entering the Whole Foods, all of my tension melted as the sliding doors locked away the heat from the street. The air conditioning was supremely welcoming. I grabbed a cart and a bouquet of violet tulips. Suddenly, another buzz on my ass stopped me in my tracks.

From: Briana Taylor
To: Katherine Miller
Subject: Re: Goodies!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010 11:05 AM

You just seem so lonely these days. And I haven't seen you come to class in that 'I just got laid' afterglow in weeks. I thought this would cheer you up.
-Briana

Typical. She had to stick it to me.

Now where was that tension? Oh there. Yep. Right in the pit of my stomach thanks to Miss Taylor. I stifled a curse. Nevertheless, I thanked her, wary of her sudden benevolence. Professor Porter was going to tell us what the assignment was by the end of the week, anyway. As my best friend Billy would say, I just needed a bit of patience.

In spite of my misgivings, ideas blossomed and solidified. I loved The Lion King growing up and knew there to be many similarities between it and Hamlet, minus the blood, gore, insanity, and multitudinous death, but plus cute sing-a-long songs.

We'd covered Hamlet earlier in the semester, and I got an A on that paper. It was about film adaptations, and I chose Mel Gibson's version. Briana Taylor would be in a puddle of loser tears when I was done. Always second best.

My ingredients list for Billy's dinner was in my backpack, so I pulled it out. The red A for the Cold War paper I had gotten back earlier today caught my eye, which made me chuckle. Billy would give me the same grade for this dinner for sure. He was coming here from Phoenicia for the first time, so I couldn't make his favorite dish, Billy's Friesapalooza, with just any kind of chicken, peppers, potatoes, spices and cheese. It had to be from Whole Foods.