Glancing over my shoulder before turning the corner, I see that he’s hovering in the hall a distance away, watching me wistfully. When he catches me looking, he snaps out of his trance, nodding and turning on his heel.

I need to tell him that it’s over.

It won’t be much longer before I break his heart.

When the final bell rings at the end of the day, it feels like I can breathe easier.

My friends stop by my locker to say good-bye before heading home, and I text Audrey to let her know I’m staying late. As I make my way back to the English classroom, the halls steadily clear out, until it’s only me and a few stragglers left, our footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

Ms. Warren is speaking into a cell phone when I enter the room, but she gestures for me to sit down, and I do so, taking a desk near the front. I deposit my books on the surface, starting with my stuff for English.

While Ms. Warren finishes up her call, I read about Macbeth’s mind completely unraveling at the sight of the ghost of his best friend turned murder victim. When she’s done, she stands from her desk and comes to look over my shoulder.

“Is it making sense?” she asks.

“Surprisingly, yes,” I tell her. “It kind of feels like second nature.”

“That’s wonderful,” she says. “You always were a fan of Shakespeare. Let me know if you have any questions.”

She takes a seat once more, and silence falls over the room as we both work on our respective tasks, rain pattering gently on the window outside the classroom. Once I’m done with the reading, I tuck my copy of Macbeth into my backpack, mind swirling with thoughts of guilt, murder, and power struggles as I reach for my math books.

“You know,” Ms. Warren begins, and I glance in her direction. “I was happy you wanted to stay late today. I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you.”

I set the books on the surface of my desk slowly.

“I’m the head of the drama department,” she says. “We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“Really?”

Ms. Warren nods, pushing her braids over her shoulder. “Oh yeah,” she remarks. “Ever since you entered high school, you’ve been in the majority of our school’s productions. Last spring we did Romeo and Juliet. You were Juliet.”

It’s hard to imagine myself on a stage, basking in the glow of the lights, when all I want now is for everyone to stop paying so much attention to me. Though I suppose the whole pretending to be someone else part must have been nice.

“Do you have any photos?”

“Of course. My partner makes all our costumes. She was very proud of this one.”