Gwynn walked through the halls in a daze.

He'd slipped out of the cafeteria ten minutes before the bell rang, wanting to avoid the crush of bodies dashing for class. Gwynn despised being caught in the surging waves of students. Many times those waves swept him away, and he missed his destination. He hated feeling powerless. More than that, he hated that so many people surrounded him he could barely breathe, yet he still felt alone.

The unsettling events of lunch left Gwynn rattled. Being stuck in the halls would just be too much. Not that arriving at class would lessen his anxiety. He had English class with Mr. Baker. Sophia would be there. So would Eric.

The classroom tables formed a horseshoe shape, allowing the whole class an unobstructed view of Mr. Baker and each other. In what Mr. Baker described as a whole other life ago, he was a Shakespearean actor. Gwynn's decided old dramatic habits die hard, as Mr. Baker performed Shakespeare as though he stood on a stage as opposed to a high school classroom. Other students made fun of Mr. Baker behind his back, but Gwynn found his delivery gripping. While his classmates debated the need or use for Shakespeare, Gwynn wondered more at how people could ignore the power of words. When Mr. Baker launched into a soliloquy, the world shifted. The ebb and flow of the world moved in time with the teacher's voice. He wished he could share that feeling with someone, but anxiety clawed at his chest over what his peers would think. So he kept quiet and hoped his rapture went unnoticed.

He found the classroom silent and empty. Gwynn took his seat at the center of the horseshoe and bored a hole in the floor with his eyes. He took in a slow breath, trying to abate his growing anxiety. The bell rang, and he grabbed the books for class.

Besides his awe-inspiring delivery of Shakespeare, Mr. Baker became Gwynn's favorite teacher for pairing him up with Sophia. He'd assigned them a scene to analyze from the Tempest. While Mr. Baker touted numerous advantages of group work, Gwynn suspected it had more to do with Mr. Baker wanting to grade half the number of papers.

Much to his delight, Sophia didn't seem to mind working with him, despite their different social standings. While in the same classes off and on for the past seven years, he never spent any time with her alone.

"You shouldn't get too worked up," his Aunt Jaimie cautioned.

She'd been his guardian for almost ten years. She treated Gwynn well, though she never wanted the burden of a child, let alone someone else's. Still, this life felt secure. He tried to insulate it from everything else. Meaning he often left his social life at school out of it.

"What would you know?" he grumbled.

"Oh, I remember. You pointed her out to me during your school play on the Greek pantheon. You looked so cute in your Ares outfit." Jaimie gave a conspiratorial laugh. Gwynn had a sinking suspicion photographs existed that would one day find their way into the hands of any girl he brought home. "You were so worked up. 'Aunt Jaimie, did you see the girl playing Athena? That's Sophia Murray! Isn't she amazing?'"

Heat filled his cheeks. He remembered the play. They were all dressed as various Greek gods, and Sophia wore a toga with a laurel wreath in her hair. He still remembered her tears about having to cut her hair short when the laurel tangled in her long blond curls.

"Geez, you must have it pretty bad for her if you're this worked up after all these years."

He stiffened. "She's just my partner for this assignment. It's not that big a deal."

"Sure, sure, Romeo. Just keep that in mind when you're working with her. Otherwise, you'll make an ass of yourself and flunk too."

Gwynn clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. No wonder he didn't share personal details with his Aunt. But, she gave him sound advice. In the end, he did what she said— kept calm and professional. The two of them had fun. He'd even managed to make her laugh. Being near her was comfortable, easy. On top of that, they aced the assignment. Now Sophia had asked him out. How well her advice worked out would no doubt surprise Jamie.

Students started shuffling into the classroom. Gwynn averted his eyes from the door, appearing to focus on his books. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sophia come in alone and then Eric followed shortly after with two other members of the football team. The boys guffawed about something, though Gwynn couldn't hear what. They stifled themselves after entering the class. After everyone arrived, Mr. Baker made his entrance. The teacher's gray-streaked hair stuck out at random angles, and his tie was flung over his shoulder— all hinting he met an unexpected wind turbine somewhere in the hall.

He launched into his lesson. They were wrapping up the Tempest today, and Gwynn leaned forward in his seat, eager for his teacher's typical performance.

"Now everyone, I'm going to be reading this soliloquy from The Tempest. We'll be going over it in detail because it might be on your test tomorrow." Mr. Baker gave an exaggerated wink and launched into his performance.

The words reverberated around the room. With each syllable, Gwynn remained entranced. Sophia caught his eye and gave him a small smile. It should've made him happy. Instead, his insides churned. Beyond her, Eric talked in hushed whispers with his cronies who stole occasional glances toward Gwynn and then averted their eyes if they saw him looking their way. A shadow seemed to hang over him since Sophia asked him out. Maybe he should cancel before the dream tumbled into the realm of nightmares.

In some distant place, Mr. Baker called the tempest down. Thunder rumbled. Or had Gwynn imagined it? In the pit of his stomach, something twisted. His body threatened to collapse in on itself.

Bell–like laughter, playful, but verging on mockery, filled the classroom.