If I'm Being Honest(15)
I don’t listen to what Lisa Gramercy has to say. And when Kowalski calls on someone else, I don’t listen to them either. The discussion continues around me, but I stare at my notebook. I made a mistake somewhere. That much, I can easily admit. Maybe I should’ve gone to his house to talk. Or I could’ve worked up a couple tears in the hall. Really, I should have found a room with a door to pull him into at Skaˉra. If Paige had been kept out, none of this would have happened.
I glance over my shoulder at her—the girl who ruined everything. Paige notices me watching her and shoots me a sardonic look as she covers the front of her book so that only Shrew is visible. She nods in my direction with a smirk.
I turn to my notebook, too tired to muster even a haughty expression. On the open page I’ve jotted down my list of ideas for winning Andrew back—apologize to Paige while he’s watching, email him, write him an old-fashioned letter—each of them now crossed out. But I never give up, and I definitely won’t on Andrew. He’s not just a guy I could date. He’s the guy. He’s everything I want. We’re right together. I’ve planned for him and me on countless lists of goals for my senior year.
The class discussion is empty noise around me as I stare at my notebook, willing a new idea to appear.
“Andrew,” I distantly hear Kowalski say, and his name is enough to lift my head.
“Sure, she’s not treated great,” Andrew says, “but I can’t exactly feel bad for her either. Regardless of how she’s viewed, Kate doesn’t give the audience reason to believe she’s anything but terrible on the inside.”
I blink, his words to me from moments ago still echoing in my ears. I can’t help but notice the familiar phrasing. I wish I had reason to believe that beneath everything, you’re nice or decent or something. But right now, I don’t. I sit up straighter, suddenly interested in this discussion.
Elle doesn’t wait to be called on before responding. “You’re just upset because Kate doesn’t conform to her patriarchal society.” Her tone is uncompromising, her expression a mixture of passion and disgust. “She shouldn’t compromise who she is because of some guy or because she’s expected to find a husband.”
“Yeah,” I find myself saying. Kowalski’s eyes dart to me. It’s rare I participate in this class, but I’m fueled by every time I’ve had to listen to Andrew tell me I’m not good enough. “Just because she doesn’t fit your or Petruchio’s notion of a well-behaved woman doesn’t mean she has to change.”
Andrew appears startled to have attracted such a strong reaction. He raises his hand and waits until Kowalski nods for him to reply. “This has nothing to do with being a well-behaved woman,” he argues. His posture’s rigidly defensive. “You guys honestly think smashing lutes over people’s heads and insulting them at every turn is acceptable for anyone, regardless of gender?”
I glance down to the open page in my book, rereading. Baptista’s criticizing Katherine for insulting people who didn’t deserve her anger. Why dost thou wrong her that did ne’er wrong thee? When did she cross thee with a bitter word? With an unexpected churn of my stomach, recognition dawns. The quote could be about me, about how I treated Paige the other night and how I’ve dealt with everyone who’s frustrated me. I’m undeniably Kate-like.
“Forget about having a husband,” Andrew goes on. “Kate wouldn’t have friends if she continued acting the way she does. I wouldn’t choose to spend time with her. It’s a good thing for her that Petruchio helps her—”
Elle cuts him off, her face red. “You mean tames her, like she’s some kind of animal!”
Andrew turns to Kowalski, refusing to engage directly with Elle. “Is it actually a bad thing to be tamed”—he darts a glance in Elle’s direction, acknowledging the word choice—“when it makes you a better human being?”
I hear Elle’s disapproving snort, but by the time she starts speaking again, my attention’s left the discussion. Andrew said he needed an indication that I’m nice on the inside, and here he is, arguing that Kate’s transformation redeems her. I flip to a blank page in my notebook and start scribbling down the ideas sprinting through my thoughts.
If he can accept Katherine after changing, then he’ll accept me. The only difference is that I won’t wait for some Petruchio—some guy—to “tame” me.
I’ll do it myself.
Eight
FOR THE FIRST TIME, I DECIDE TO get ahead in English.
I redirect every ounce of my anger over Andrew’s words and holier-than-thou attitude into proving him wrong. I read the whole play, scouring every line for ideas. I cut through twixts and ne’ers and doths, not to mention hundreds of overly complex and circuitous phrasings like to make mine eye the witness just to say to see for myself.
The problem is that all of Petruchio’s methods of taming Katherine are terrible.
Moral ramifications aside, starving myself or keeping myself sleep-deprived would hardly make me a nicer person. I toss the play aside and try to think for myself. If Katherine were to work on being a better person, what would she do? The first answer is obvious: be nicer to people. Easy.
And too slow. Holding doors for people and complimenting them on their hair or whatever might get Andrew’s attention eventually. But how many months of observing little daily kindnesses would it take?