“Belle and I will,” Maryanne volunteered for the both of them. Maryanne hopped out of her seat while Belle wanted to hit her head against the desk. She didn't like getting up in front of people. She was quite the opposite from Maryanne; reserved, quiet, and diligent. Perhaps that was why they got along so well. Maryanne volunteered to be Romeo, and some of the other women laughed. It was quite fitting. Maryanne flipped to a page then showed it to Belle in her own copy. Belle blushed. Of course Maryanne would have chosen that scene. Belle fully realized that she was just trying to have fun, and didn't realize that Belle truly didn't want to volunteer. She was so very nervous. That left Belle as Juliet.
Maryanne started, clearly not trying much to the teacher's dismay. She was overly dramatic which got laughs and snickers from the others in the class. Despite the fact that she was performing to her highest degree, she was the favorite in the class, and anything that she wore was fashionable, and anything that she said would be repeated and written down in the tombs for ages. Belle, on the other hand, was quite, quite nervous. Her voice was soft and subtle, and she was focused so much on the words that there was little other emotion that fear within her voice. She sighed softly as Maryanne started speaking again. Belle looked down at the text and read her next few lines. She took a deep breath, and Maryanne stood there looking at her. She supposed it was her turn so she began.
Something happened when she was ready, as it often does with words you can identify with. Belle closed her eyes momentarily, trying to think of the words rather than the numerous amount of eyes on her. She felt a warmth in her chest as she continued, her voice growing stronger, but not over powering. Maryanne's eyes widened from the unexpected change in her friend, but Belle failed to acknowledge the glance. The room itself had gone quiet.
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”
Belle looked up from the text to stare at Maryanne's expression. She suddenly became aware of herself, and looked at the rest of the class, who were also shocked at the quiet girl's passionate interpretation. She looked at the reverend then back at Maryanne, and blushed heavily. What had come over her?
“My God, Belle,” Maryanne said. “You should be an actress! Isn't she wonderful?” She directed the question towards the class who broke out in whispers of praise and wonderment. Belle finally exhaled. At least Maryanne had lightened the embarrassment for her. She looked down at the text. They were just words. Why should they be any different than anything else that she had read before?
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