Cecilia

"What does Shakespeare mean when he says 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day'?" Ms. Summers asked cheerfully.

"Oh boy," thought Cecilia. "Here she goes again. Just because her name is Summers, doesn't mean she has to get all hyper about summer all the time."

With her head propped up on one arm, Cecilia waited for an unlucky person to be chosen by Ms. Summers. Cecilia knew it wouldn't be her--she had answered too many times. Looking around the class, Cecilia wondered who would be called upon. James? The athlete who only took Literature for the credit? Leo? The guy who loved Literature but had a serious lisping problem? Kevin? The dreamy guy who took this class in order to get a chance to hit on girls?

"Jeff," Ms. Summers' voice was even more high-pitched than usual. "Why don't you try?"

"Seriously?" Muttered Cecilia with a smirk. "Jeff the class clown?"

Turning to look at Jeff, Cecilia awaited an answer.

"Ahem," Jeff cleared his throat in an exaggerated manner. "Shakespeare is trying to tell his lover that she is extremely hot."

Hot? Really? Cecilia tried to stifle a laugh, but it escaped. A few others giggled, while Ms. Summers stared at Jeff in awe and disbelief.

"No," said Ms. Summers rather sadly. "Shakespeare means that the girl is beautiful. Not hot."

"But I thought summers are hot," said Jeff, matter-of-factly.

The bell rang, and Ms. Summers sadly let her class go.

"C!" someone was calling Cecilia, and she turned to face Jeff.

"Yea?"

"What does C stand for?"

"Cecilia."

"Oh," said Jeff, smiling. "You're the one that actually likes this class, right?"

"What? Oh. Yea. I really do like Literature," Cecilia tilted her head slightly and looked at Jeff. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here, because Parker bet me a hundred dollars I would fail this class."

Typical, thought Cecilia. And with that, she faked a smile and said "Good luck".

For some reason unknown, Cecilia couldn't help noticing a pang of disappointment as she turned to leave.

*          *          *          *         *          *          *          *

"So..." Serena droned in her dramatic accent. "Any idea who your prom dates will be, ladies?"

"Serena," Emily rolled her eyes. "You know we have no idea. No need to rub it in."

"Yea, why don't you just go on and tell us your wonderful plans?" asked Isabella.

Cecilia, who usually didn't tease Serena, felt a sudden urge to be sarcastic. "Who are you asking, Serena? Some senior guy?"

Serena flicked her long silky hair and batter her lashes. Leaning forward, she beckoned the other girls to come closer.

"I'm thinking of asking Kevin."

"Boring!" moaned Isabella. "Didn't you go to junior prom with him? Leave him for someone else."

"Like who? Do you want to go with him, Isabella?" Cecilia nudged Isabelle playfully, intending to remind Isabelle of her previous crush on Kevin.

"Hey! That was primary school, ok?" Isabella protested defensively. "Besides, I'm probably not even going to prom."