By the time the hour finished, I can say that I enjoyed myself with these students who seem to not know that I am the klutz of the school. My guess is that these five are either new or complete loners. Either way, it’s refreshing not to feel judged every each way.
The teacher wannabe approaches me towards the end, and asks me, straight to the point, “May I know how a young girl like you managed to hate the renowned story of Romeo and Juliet? I’m curious, I got to say.”
“Hate is such a strong word,” is my matter-of-fact response.
“Let me rephrase it,” he suggests with a brief grin. “You don’t seem fond of the kind of love that is depicted in the play. Why is that?”
“He fell for her almost on impulse,” I explain my point of view and try to defend it, “Juliet was nothing but his rebound
