Much Ado About Nothing (Shakespeare for Everyone Else)

  Chapter Two

  “I’m transferring,” Donnie said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood on the deck facing the backyard. The grass was a little overgrown and the air still stunk of summer and heat but at least they were able to talk outside without breaking into a sweat.

  “What?” Clark shouted. “What do you mean you’re transferring?”

  “I have all of my credits,” Donnie explained. “I’m actually going to graduate in December rather than June.”

  “So you’re still going through with that?” Bennett asked. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you mention it again sooner?”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything until the season was over, but I thought you guys deserved to know.”

  “So you’re going to stay until the end of the season?” Clark asked.

  “Yes, of course. I’ll still be around but I’ll be over at the community college, picking up some classes for my degree.”

  “You could stay here,” Clark said.

  “There’s nothing left for me here,” Donnie said. “Bennett, as far I know, you’re close to doing the same thing as well, with the classes you took over the summer our sophomore year.”

  “Since when is everyone taking all these classes?” Clark asked. “I’m barely holding on this semester.”

  “I’m close,” Bennett said. “I could graduate in the fall if I really wanted to.”

  “But you won’t?” Donnie asked. “When we last talked about this over the summer—”

  “When did you guys talk about this?” Clark said, frustrated.

  Bennett answered as though Clark hadn’t spoken. “Probably not. There’s been a change in plans,” he said. “The things that I wanted to get away from…I’m not so sure that distance is the thing I want right now.”

  “You’re more gloomy than usual,” Clark noted. “Have you and Bea…”

  “Oh, please,” Donnie said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Bennett wouldn’t allow Cupid to get within a sniper’s distance of him—”

  “So poetic—”

  “If anything, I bet his father’s giving him a hard time.”

  “Maybe it’s love,” Clark said.

  “This sweet discussion is going to give me diabetes,” Bennett said.

  “Seriously though, Bennett, what’s going on?” Donnie asked. “I thought we were doing this together? You have the same number of credits as I do—”

  “I told you,” Bennett said, pulling out a cigarette, a habit he now only indulged when he was truly frustrated. Lighting it up, he blew a stream of smoke ahead of him. “Plans can change.”

  “It’s love,” Clark said, smiling.

  “Stop saying that,” Donnie said. “Bennett here doesn’t know anything about love. What he does know is how to mope around and sulk in his leather jacket. He knows how to feel sorry for himself and he knows what color sneakers match his disgusting t-shirts. I fear the only love he understands is the love of being emo. And honestly,” Donnie said, looking over his friend’s attire, “I have to say he dresses the part quite well.”

  “Shut up,” Bennett grunted.

  “If it’s not love, then why’d you get a haircut? You used to grow it out, and now you’re keeping it trimmed and under that beanie.” Clark sat down on the lawn chair, looking ahead. “It’s love.”

  “It is a nice look,” Donnie said. “I’m happy to see you care about your appearance again.”

  “I told you to shut up,” Bennett said.

  “Plus,” Clark said, “Heaven mentioned that you’ve started wearing different cologne now.”

  “Is it really good that your girlfriend knows how I smell?” Bennett said, sniffing his armpits without hesitation. “Did she really say that?”

  “Oh, she did,” Clark said. “I think someone’s trying.”

  “Maybe this is love,” Donnie tread carefully. “Don’t look so pissed, it makes your face look ugly.”

  “Have you ever known him to wear a different sweatband to practice? Usually he’s wearing that ten-year-old rag tied about his head, and now we are seeing all colors of the rainbow,” Clark said.

  Bennett lunged from his seat and pinned Clark to his chair. “How many times do I have to tell you to shut up? I wanted to make a few changes. It’s got nothing to do with love, but more to do with the fact that I’m getting older and don’t need to spend my life looking like I crawled out of a gutter.” Clark held up his hands and Bennett released his collar slowly. “You know what? Forget about it, I’m bored. I’m going home.”

  “Oh come on, Bennett, don’t be like that,” Donnie called, but Bennett jumped from the deck and sauntered towards his old Volvo, starting it up and pulling away without another word. “He’s pissed.”

  “You think?” Clark said. “We both know what this is all about.”

  “It’s love,” Donnie said.

  “We know there’s only one chick who pushes him to make such an effort in his appearance.”

  “I wish Bea could have seen this,” Donnie said. “She wouldn’t believe it if we told her…” he trailed off, frowning.

  “What’s wrong?” Clark asked. “I thought this was all part of the plan?”

  “I’m happy for both of them,” Donnie said, “but it’s still hard to take. It bothers me that Bea still loves someone like that, someone who has no problem airing his flaws to the world without a change in expression.”

  “He’s changing,” Clark said.

  “That’s good, but I’m still pissed. We shouldn’t have had to go through all of this for Bennett to understand what a great girl Bea is. I never would’ve done what he’s done because I would never allow myself to let go as he had.”

  “We should be happy,” Clark said.

  Donnie still frowned. “Yes...”