Quick Maths: take two enemies multiplied by one insane bet, divided by crazy shenanigans plus one wacky senior year.
What do you get? A mess.
And Kinsley was never really good at Maths to begin with...
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In which Kinsley Bennett finds herself in a b...
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"Miss Bennett?" my English teacher says all of a sudden, bringing me out of my thoughts.
I snap back to reality, realizing I've zoned out during a class on Shakespeare's sonnets. "Uh, yes, Mrs Hildebrand?" I stammer, sitting up straight. It's a good thing my hair is tied up today, or else some loose curls would've definitely managed to get caught in my mouth.
"I asked for your thoughts on Sonnet 18. Care to share?" Mrs Hildebrand inquires, her spectacles perched on the edge of her nose as she eyes me expectantly. Given the fact that she has tiny, beady little eyes, her gaze is always super intense.
I glance at the open page in my textbook, desperately searching for any trace of the bard's words. I literally have not been paying attention since I entered this class. I mean, it's the last class of the first day; do you blame me?
"Ah, Sonnet 18, right. Well, it's, um, a beautiful ode to... summer, I think?" I start, just skimming over a bunch of random words. From the corner of my eye, I can see Rosé subtly facepalming at her own desk. "And, you know, comparing someone to a summer's day. Classic stuff."
Mrs Hildebrand glares at me, looking all sorts of unimpressed. "Miss Bennett," she says, voice deep and threatening. "This isn't how we interpret one of the greatest pieces of literature in history. Get your head out of the clouds and focus on the text at hand."
"Got it, Mrs Hildebrand," I reply, forcing a smile in her direction. "I'll remember that for my future career as a Shakespearean critic." This earns a few scattered chuckles from my classmates.
"I must say, Kinsley," Mrs Hildebrand says, not letting that last joke slide. "I'm not impressed by your joking attitude. You're a senior - it's about time you act like one."
"With all due respect," Leila says from the back, no doubt resting her head against the all she's seated next to, "this is only the first day of the year. Cut us some slack."
"I will not tolerate this disrespect," Mrs Hildebrand says, focusing her attention on my poor friend. "That's detention for you, Miss Thomas."
Just then, the final bell rings, ending all our miseries. Rosé makes her way over to me, backback hanging from her shoulders. "Really, Kinny?" she asks, small grin on her face. "Shakespearian critic? That sounds like quite the job."
I shrug, a similar grin playing on my lips. "Hey, it's a niche market. I might just revolutionize literary analysis."
"Not with Hildebrand as your English teacher," Rosé mutters, and the two of us begin making our way out of the classroom. Said English teacher glares at each one of us as we get up and leave, but she knows that whole 'the bell doesn't dimiss you, I do' nonsense won't work on us.
Outside the classroom, the chaotic symphony of students rushing to escape the confines of academia surrounds us. Some stop at their lockers first, while others immediately bolt out of the main doors.
