Desdemona by Tag Cavello (read e books online free .txt) đ
- Author: Tag Cavello
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âOnly when the teachers are looking, Sir.â
âHa! Now thatâs how itâs done!â Brentonâs shrewd eyes went to Sunny. âSee you after school, young lady.â
âBye, Daddy!â
Dante closed the door. He took Sunnyâs bag. Then he walked her to the school entrance with her on the inside, away from the sidewalk edge. Several of Sunnyâs girlfriends waved hello. Sunny waved back. She was dressed in her typical short black skirt with buckled boots. Beneath her trademark leather jacket Dante could see flares of a yellow blouse.
âI have a surprise for you,â she said, as he pulled open the door for her.
Dante raised his brow.
âI know, I know,â she went on, âyou hate surprises.â
âWell, usually,â he had to admit.
âBut this one I couldnât resist.â
She got no further before Stacey appeared, swooping in from the crowd of students like a small, black bird. âSunny!â she sang. âWhat are you doing this weekend?â
Sunny put her head on Danteâs shoulder. âSpending it with my Mister here,â she said. âWhat about you?â
âI donât know yet, butââStacey raised her thumb and pinkyââcall me tonight? Saturday night too?â
âSure,â Sunny grinned. She looked up at Dante. âThat is if weâre not busy.â
âWow! See you guys at lunch!â And Stacey disappeared even quicker than sheâd shown up.
âHeck,â Dante said, staring into the crowd, âcall her even if we are busy. Thatâll really flip her wheels.â
âNot a chance.â
âSunny? Baby? Beautiful? Sweetheart?â
âYes, darling?â
âHow many of your friends know about what we did last Saturday?â
She looked appalled. âAre you kidding? That was the best night of my life. I told them all!â
âWellâŠthank you. Thank you.â
Doubt flickered on her face. âYou didnât tell your friends, right?â
âNo.â
âWhew!â she gushed. âThank you. Girls are allowed to talk, Dante, but boysââshe shook her headââno. No way.â
He laughed. âUnderstood.â
âLook at you blush! Itâs so cute!â
They walked to her locker, navigating the traffic with practiced ease. Dante wondered if Sunny knew he didnât have any friends to tell. Associates maybe, but no real friends.
She dialed the combination with her breath held. It was a carrot she occasionally dangled ever since Danteâs own locker had jammed last year, forcing her lungs past their limit. Smiling, she now pulled the latch, opened the door, and let the breath out.
âGood girl!â he said. Then: âWerenât you going to tell me something about a surprise?â
âOh yeah! I almost forgot! My home economics class is having a baking contest this morning.â Her expression turned bitter. âMe and Maris are going head to head. And you,â she went on, poking a finger at his chest, âare going to be one of the judges.â
Danteâs mouth fell open in shock.
âYeah,â Sunny said, âthatâs good. Youâre going to be eating, so your mouth needs to be open.â
âSunny, Iâm not sure Iâm qualified to judge a baking contest,â he managed to say. This was a lie. In fact, Dante knew he wasnât qualified. Heâd never judged a contest in his life. Judging one with his own girlfriend as a contestant was no way to break into the field. He was suddenly terrified. What if he chose wrong? What if he picked Marisâ dish?
Hope flooded his chest.
âWait,â he said. âWill the dishes be tagged with your names?â
âNope. Itâs a blind test.â
Ack! cried Danteâs hope, as it died horribly.
âAnd what are the dishes?â he asked.
Sunny raised her hands in mock revelation. âChocolate. Chip. Cookiiieeees,â she intoned. âMy momâs recipe, which I know by heart, shall put Shayaâs little girl scout to shame.â
âShall, Shaya, shame,â Dante said, trying his best to keep cool.
âYesshh, my dear. Come to the home ec room after second period. Tell Mr. Hogan to kiss your butt if he gives you any trouble.â
âI canât. He might take me up on the offer.â
âGood point.â She put a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. âHeâll give you a pass, donât worry. The teachers have it all arranged.â
âSunny, are you sure you want me to do this?â
âChildren?â Mr. Wolfe called from his classroom door. âPlan on loitering in the halls all day?â
âNo, sir,â Dante and Sunny said together.
âThen get in here, both of you.â His eyes narrowed. Dante noticed he hadnât been shaving well of late. His beard looked gray and scraggly, as if a skunk had decided to take up residence on his chin. âYou two are a couple, right?â
âYes, sir,â Dante told him.
âAww,â he let out sarcastically. âHow sweet. At least for about five years. Then sheâll leave you, probably on Christmas day. Youâll get drunk under the tree, staring at the presents she never opened.â
Sunny laughed.
âOh sure,â Wolfe said, âyou think itâs funny now. Floating on your little pink cloud way up in the sky. But that cloud is going to dissolve, children. And when it doesââhe whistled, curving his hand to look like a plummeting jetââprepare for impact!â
Holding hands, Dante and Sunny walked past him. Both concealed their smiles by keeping their eyes fixed on the floor.
âMerry Christmas, Wolfe!â Dante heard the teacher say. âIâm leaving you for a garbage man! A garbage man! She always insisted on taking out the trash and I could never understand it. Thatâs a manâs job, I told her. âOh no, no, honey, I got it.â She got it all right.â
âDonât get mad, Mr. Wolfe,â Dante said under his breath, âget Glad.â
âTorn!â Wolfe bellowed, while Sunny burst out laughing.
âYes, sir?â
âDetention! This afternoon!â
â
Sunnyâs home economics room was in the old wing of the school. Dante knew it well, as he also took Shop here. Not that this fact held anything to do with its special place in his heart. No, no. It was the dark, disused bathroom at the end of the wing he would always remember with fondness. Last year heâd gone into that room with a stain on his shirt. Minutes later Sunny had followed. That made her the first ever pretty girl to be curious about what he was doing.
Her presence had given him a surprise that day. Today her absence did the same. Dante opened the home ec door to find about ten girlsânone of them Sunny or Marisâseated at long black tables on either side of the room. In between the tables were two empty desks facing the kitchen area. But the stoves were vacant, as were the sinks.
âHello,â Dante said to the girls. He noticed that one of them was Rajani. âAm I in the right place?â
âYou are!â came a voice from his left.
A tall, bespectacled woman had swept in from a side door. She was thin, with brown hair wrapped tightly in a pony tail. Dante thought she looked like a trailer park refugee from 1978.
âIâm Miss Cross, the Home Economics teacher,â she said. âAre you Dante?â
âYes, maâam.â
âRight this way.â She led him to yet another side door, this one closer to the front of the room. âIn here,â she said. âPut on a mask and a white robe. Try to cover as much of yourself as you can. That way none of the girls will know who you are.â
âWhy all the secrecy?â Dante asked. Miss Crossâs excitement amused him. She was fairly bustling him into the room, the way a mistress might do in effort to hide one of her suitors from the family.
âBias, Dante!â she explained. âBias! None of the girls can know you any more than you can know them! Now shoo! Shoo!â
Dante had more questions but couldnât ask them before he was pushed into a long, narrow closet. He turned, opened his mouth to speak, and Miss Cross slammed the door in his face.
âHello,â a friendly, cultured voice chimed from the softly lit recesses of cookware and cookâs whites.
Dante spun around. A boy his own age stood in the room with him. He wore a straight smile, crooked glasses, and a messy mop of brown hair. It was, of course, Shaya Blum.
âSo youâre judging, too,â Dante said. A coil of beautiful contempt, iridescent, like that of a poison asp, stirred in his belly.
âI am indeed,â the other boy answered. From here he proceeded with a most loathsome act: He held out his hand.
Dante had no choice but to shake it, which he did, but with prickly coolness.
âMay the best lady win,â Shaya said.
âRight.â
A rack of white coats stood nearby. Dante chose the longest one on it. It was by no means long enough. The lower half of his denim pants was fully exposed.
âShoes,â Shaya said, nodding toward Danteâs boots. âYou must take them off. Please,â he added, when Dante scowled. âThat way Sunny wonât recognize you. See?â He pointed to his own feet, which were clad only in socks.
So Dante took off his shoes and laid them aside. âAsk me to take off my pants and Iâll punch you.â
âUnderstood.â
Now both boys turned their attention toward the masks. Five identical faces of powder white plastic hung on the wall. Five pairs of bulbous lips, hurriedly smeared with red paint, grinned without sustenance for their joy, as if over a great many years spent in this dim closet they had quietly gone insane.
Dante chose one and held it by a cheap rubber band stapled to its sides. Seconds later a light knock hit the door. It was Miss Cross. She asked them to please make sure their masks and robes were in place.
âHere we go,â Shaya said, taking off his glasses.
Both boys put on their masks.
âReady?â Miss Cross said from outside.
âReady,â Shaya and Dante said together.
The door swung open. Miss Cross looked at them both for a moment only, then beckoned for Shaya to come forward. She told Dante to wait.
âWait?â Dante asked.
Miss Cross shushed him violently. âNo speaking! Yes, please wait here.â
And once again she closed the door, this time to leave him by himself.
Dante lifted the mask. Its lunatic expression could in no way be compared to his befuddlement. How exactly was this contest being judged? Putting his ear to the doorâs keyhole, he listened for clues. The room beyond was hushed, or nearly so. Softly spoken words, too delicate for interpretation, flitted to and fro. One of the girls giggled. Another sighed.
Several more minutes passed, by which time Dante had given up wondering and was seated on a box in back of the closet when Miss Cross knocked again. He leaped to his feet.
âAre you wearing your mask?â the teacher called.
Dante put it on and whispered it was okay to open the door. She did so. Still wearing his own mask, Shaya stepped inside. His robe billowed. He looked to Dante like a priest on his way to a sermon.
âCome this way,â Miss Cross said. âAnd remember: No speaking.â
The audience of young girls regarded him. Some frowned, others smiled. Two other girlsâMaris and Sunnyâstood in front of the room, at opposite ends of the kitchen. Sunny looked stern. Expressionless as a Greek statue from early classical days. On Marisâ face hovered the tiniest hint of a smile.
Miss Cross motioned for him to take a seat at the desk on the right. Dante looked intently at his girlfriend, conveying with his eyesâor hoping toâthat this was him, Dante. Only she refused to return his stare. She had glanced at him only once when heâd stepped from the closet. Now her eyes were fixed on Miss Cross.
âYou will be given two plates,â the teacher said, âeach with a large cookie on it, cut into four pieces. You will also be given a glass of water. You will eat one piece from one cookie, drink from the glass, then eat a piece from the other. Please nodâand only nodâif you understand.â
Dante nodded.
âEach girl,â Miss Cross continued, âbegins the contest with forty points. The first piece you eat from each cookie is free, but after that, each piece you eat costs the girl who baked that cookie ten points. Therefore, the sooner you choose the winner, the more points that girlâs cookie will have. Please nod if you understand.â
Dante nodded.
âThe cookie you choose as the winner will receive ten extra points. Our other judge has already made
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