Chapter 3 - Cacti & Roses

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Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
~ William Shakespeare
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"Hey heart throb, your eyes have such a stunning sparkle as if--"

"I'm planning your murder?" he suggested.

I chuckled. "I doubt I'm worth going to jail for."

"Trust me, you are."

We were both sitting in our second period Forensics class, waiting for the bell to ring for lunch. Due to only ten people in the class and me not knowing any except for Toby, I conversed with him for now. Messing with him had been a continuation of math class, where I hardly received an opportunity to chat. Plus, this guy didn't even know how to smile and I wanted to see how he'd look with one.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked faking being touched by the words. "You think I'm worth the trouble?"

"Yes," he admitted. "Even if I get charged with a third degree murder for sending you six feet underground."

What a nasty visual.

"Hey, if that brings a smile to your face and satiates your heart, then you have my permission," I said quite considerate. "I doubt my father would want to see me so early, though."

Yeah, he probably wouldn't.

But if dad saw me like this, he wouldn't be very happy either. He raised me to behave like a proper lady--one who spoke more thoughtfully and was chary of what came out of her mouth.

I couldn't care less.

We were in a school, not in an etiquette class.

Truth be told, school was the most amazing experience in my life.

After Austria, Paris, Honululu, St. Petersburg, and Lahore.

Disrupting my thoughts, the bell rang.

Toby ditched me, so I escorted myself to the cafeteria and in no time, located my male cousin. Miley wasn't in any of my classes so far, so I didn't see her, yet. Michael and I stood in one of the lines, conversing pretty loudly in the rowdy cafeteria.

"I'm priviledged to be related to you," I confessed to Michael, as we made our way to the cafeteria table. Babushka, Michael and Toby had a different class, but our lunch block was the same, thankfully. We took seats across the other three. Michael waited for me to explain my statement. "You're friends with such gorgeous people." I pointed to Viktor, Babushka, and Toby. Only Babushka smiled, pleased. "Unfortunately, they don't stress their vocal chords enough."

"Unlike some people, we don't run on energy drinks," Toby mumbled.

"Me either!" I said.

They all exchanged glances that only they knew could explain. Before I could ask, Babushka decided to speak up.

"Noor, do you like Shakespeare?"

Suddenly, everyone . . . including the students seated nearby were interested in our conversation. They were all waiting for an answer for me.

An answer that appeared more critical than a patient on life support.

"Shakespeare is the love of my life," I said as seriously as I could. Maybe that statement was extreme. I admired the man's masterpieces and hoped to never suffer through a tragedy like one of his.

"Now I know why he wrote tragedies," Toby remarked.

Babushka elbowed him before meeting my eyes with much enthusiasm.

"You have to join the Shakespeare Club then!" she insisted.

"You guys have a Shakespeare Club?" That fact alone made my day.

"A group of five or six Shakespeare lovers established it during my Freshman year days," Michael said. "One fine day, a few guys had their sports' meet cancelled and while waiting for their rides to pick them up, they went to the library. The club's meeting place."

"Hell fell empty and all the devils gathered in the library that stormy afternoon," Viktor said darkly.

I admired his style, honestly.

Like Michael said, his friend could pass as a Russian killer.

Killer of the hearts.

"What happened next?" I prompted curiously.

"Apparently, the guys called everything love and Shakespeare related a bunch of bull crap," Babushka said. "The girls were absolutely furious upon hearing such an insult. The next day, they filled the guys' lockers with heart-shaped cards, flowers, and even little Shakespeare quotes on little post it notes."

"How sweet," I said.

The girls spread positivity in a world where the only thing people championed was adversity.

"Oh, that's not how it was," Michael said, shaking his head. "The jocks took revenge and ruined the girls' lockers and reputations."

"How mean," I pouted.

"Is your commentary necessary?" Toby asked me.

"Freedom of speech, darlin'. Stop me if you can." I winked.

Our other three companions laughed at my statement and ate their lunches.

Digging into my macaroni and cheese, I couldn't help but be disappointed by the bland taste. Nonetheless, I refrained from complaining. I chose this life.

"By the way, what happened after the jock-club drama? The club shut down?" I inquired.

Michael vigorously shook his head.

"On the contrary, it gained more members," he said. "More guys and gals. The school launched into a Shakespearean division, where one side supported what the bard preached while the others despised even the mention of his name. That's how it has gone till this day. There are over a hundred members, but only like twenty-five show up to meetings."

"People from different sides still mess with those of another. Silly pranks and whatnot," Babushka's older brother added.

"I'm definitely joining," I said, putting my hands down on the table. "Team flibbertigibbet for the win!" They all stared at me as if I was speaking Urdu. If I was actually speaking that, then their expressions would be worse. "It means extraordinarily special."

"Excellent! The first meeting of the year is right after school today in the library," Babushka informed. "Both of us have AP Lit last period. We can head there straight after dismissal."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

We continued a chit-chit, at least Babushka and I did before two girls decided to take a seat on our long cafeteria table. At first, we paid them no heed.

Not until one beautiful ash brown-haired girl tapped Toby's shoulder with her unblemished crimson nails.

"Since when did you start loaning your hoodies to girls?" she asked.

We all scowled.

Well, Toby's eyes met mine for a second before he turned to her. What did I do?

"I don't know what you're talking about, Savannah," Toby said.

"Hiding a secret relationship with our own Miley, now are we?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. She pointed towards an area two tables before ours where a tightly packed group of students were chattering loudly. One of the girls was indeed Michael's sister and like Savannah said, she wore Toby's hoodie.

Oh dear.

May Allah forgive me for all the non-believer actions and words of mine.

Once I graduate, I promise to be a better Muslimah.

"That's not mine," Toby denied. "Or at least not given to her by me."

Michael visibly cringed.

I leaned forward to look at the girl. "Savannah, right?" I asked her. She nodded. "First, what someone's wearing shouldn't really be anyone else's concern. There are other breaking news worth subjects to worry about. Like how this cafeteria food needs more salt . . . cheese, and flavor. Or how Superwoman is better than Batman. Second, I love your nails. So gorgeous. Did you apply it yourself or get it done by a professional?"

No one knew whether I had insulted or complimented the girl.

Not even me.

But I really like how fancy her nails were. Due to my poor habit of biting my nails, I hardly had any keratin left to produce long, slender nails to be polished.

"Myself," she slowly answered. "And you are?"

"Noor the Great," I said casually.

"What exactly makes you Great?" she asked. No one had asked me that before and I was genuinely taken aback for a moment.

"What doesn't?" I asked, maintaining a smile.

"What a narcissist. Let's go, girls." Savannah ushered her group to leave the table. I didn't understand the reason behind her rudeness, nor did I feel the need to.

"I hate her," Babushka said.

"Why?" I queried.

"The gossip queen doesn't spare anyone," Michael replied with a sigh. "She's our local Regina George."

I almost choked on my macaroni. "Why didn't you tell me before?! I would've sat down with her. Regina George is my most favorite person . . . after Beyonce, Marilyn Monroe, Emma Watson--"

"Do you come with a mute button?" Toby asked me. I stuck my tongue at him and focused on my lunch. "Besides, how did Miley get my hoodie?" Quietly, I finished my lunch and then realized all pairs of eyes were on me, especially Toby's who was eyeing me like an exterminator eyes a skunk or a squirrel. "Speak up."

"Why? I thought you wanted me to be mute?"

Babushka and Michael burst out laughing at Toby's frustrated expression. Even Viktor cracked a smile.

Fortunately, the topic was dropped.

Toby didn't have the patience to talk to me. As soon as lunch was over, I saw him approach Miley on the way out. He said something to her which made her face fall and she left the giant room, hiding her face. Was he being impolite to an innocent human? I wanted to check what happened, but due to the crowd moving leisurely, I didn't know where Miley went.

I spent the rest of the day quietly.

The teachers didn't approve of my "bubbly and inexplicably unique personality." They wanted everyone to remain focused on their work.

For god's sake, we were in a classroom, not a court room.

After the end of AP Literature, Babushka and I strolled into the library. It wasn't as grand as I expected it to be, but the place gave a friendly and homely feeling.

Books were where my heart was.

After music, YouTube, food . . . you get the gist.

A lot of people were gathering and then I saw someone draw a curtain, dividing two groups apart from each other. The group Babushka and I were in only had like ten members. All girls.

Six of them being ninth graders.

"We only have ten people?" someone asked, in similar confusion as I.

"The fight for Independence was a minority movement too," Babushka said. "Don't get disheartened."

"Yeah, but strength in numbers," a blue haired girl said.

"Why don't you join the other party then?" I asked casually and continued in a light tone. "Every team builds on the support of its members. If you don't believe in your team members, then you shouldn't suffer here. Go where your happiness is, not other people's."

"That's not what I meant," she said rolling her eyes. "I believe in the people here."

"Good," Babushka said. "If everyone's set to sail our ship, we shall continue." I smiled and took a seat at one of the tables with everyone else. "Welcome to the Shakespeare Club, everyone." Babushka continued explaining things and with the attention span of a two year old, I stopped listening and played piano on the table with my small fingers.

Then, I peeped through the curtain at the abundant neighbors next door. Funnily, their spokesperson was Regina George aka Savannah. What shocked me even more was that Michael, Miley, Viktor, and Toby were in there!

Bloody traitors!

Something pushed me back by pressing his finger on the top of my nose.

"Stop br-breaking rules," the brown-haired guy muttered.

"What rules?" I whispered.

He answered by drawing the curtains close once again. Well, I suppose they followed the general neighbor rules.

No peeping through the windows like a creepy stalker.

"Get in a close circle," Babushka ushered. We all did as told. "Now, our goal is to attract more members into our club. Before we do that, we still have to avenge for the cacti we received at the end of last year from the other group."

"They gave you cacti?" I asked.

The Freshmen were as horrified as me, while the other three upperclassmen nodded their heads, pitifully.

"It was their end of year gift to us," Babushka said flatly.

"I accidentally sat on one," one girl said and cringed.

All of us consoled her.

"We should present them with the famous Shakespeare flower to start the year," I suggested, excitedly. "Roses!" We obviously couldn't fight fire with fire and burn up the whole world. "There has to be a difference between their level and our true Shakespearean admirers level."

"Okay, but where are we gonna get the roses?" the azure haired girl asked. "No one is rich enough to buy like a hundred dollars worth of roses that will end up in trash cans by the end of the day."

I was about to tell them it wasn't hard for my mother to, but then that would ruin everything.

Right on the first day.

"I can arrange like twenty from my granny's garden," Babushka said, "without arising suspicion."

"Don't worry, I can manage the rest," I said quickly. "I have some leftover birthday money from last month. I don't mind spending it on beautiful flowers that might make someone's day." The birthday money was a lie, but it wasn't going to hurt anybody.

"Are you sure?" Blue Hair asked.

"Sweetie, Sure is my middle name," I said, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "Anyways, I'll do anything for Shakespeare. He made me believe in true love."

They rolled their eyes.

We set to complete the first deed tomorrow.

Pass out roses and win hearts of those who didn't believe in Shakespeare. Even if the event doesn't gain us a single new number, the effort would satisfy the team.

The route to every goal started with small steps.

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A/N

I've never enjoyed writing from a MC so much after Cassandra Evans in HvsL. So much positivity and fun.

I hope you like Noor, because I love her.

What did you think about the chapter?

What do you think of the Shakespeare Club?

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