leila malcal

Towards the middle of the semester, Mrs. B. devised an assignment where we had to act out a soliloquy from any Shakespeare play. I chose Marc Antony’s “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. As we had to be in costume for extra credit, I brought a flat sheet to school to fashion into a toga of sorts. There was a supply closet in the front of the room where people could change. Boys would pretend to peek in the closet when girls were changing. There wasn’t much to see for the most part, as girls might throw a long night gown over their clothes to play Juliet. The door locked on the outside when closed completely, so the few kids with major changes could do so with some privacy.

“Sweetie don’t worry. I wanted your cum and we don’t have all day in here. You’ll do better next time.” Next time? Did she just say next time? “Of course you can’t tell ANYONE about this.” Mrs. B. helped me arrange my toga and made sure my zipper was up. Students hooted when we left the closet.

As he looked into her beautiful blue eyes, saw her adoring smile, and admired the flawless scarlet of her hair, he felt a stirring in his chest. After all of the one-night stands he had experienced, his evening with Sophia at the academy should not have affected him. He stepped aside, letting Alexis be with her as they were meant to be, and yet, at the moment, he found himself longing for her. She was sweet, loving, courageous, and pure of heart while honest about her desires. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to caress her, to wake up beside her and see her smile. But was that because of his feelings for her, or his feelings for who she reminded him of?