The Mars Project by Julie Steimle (i can read with my eyes shut TXT) 📕

“Men in general judge more from appearance than from reality. All men have eyes, but few have the gift of penetration.”—Machiavelli—

Reading the lines of Paris, Adam Arbor smirked with peeks at Zormna to see if she was watching. “…that she doth give her sorrow so much sway, and in his wisdom hastes our marriage to stop the inundation of her tears; which, too much minded by herself alone, may be put from her by society. Now do you know the reason of this haste.”

He finished then looked up to Mr. Humphries, who read the lines of Friar Laurence.

“I would I knew not why it should be slow’d. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell,” their teacher read.

Adam smiled. “Happily met, my lady and my wife!”

Without any joy in it, Zormna looked down at her page and read aloud, her first for that week. “That may be, sir, when I may be thy wife.”

He read it well. “That may be, love, on Thursday next.”

Zormna sighed with disgust at the sappiness of the character. “What must be shall be.”

“That’s a certain text,” their teacher read.

“Come you to make confession to this father?” Adam read quizzically.

Nearly laughing, Zormna read her lines. “To answer that, I should confess to you.”

Mr. Humphries frowned. “This is a serious text, Zormna. Please give it the regard it deserves.”

Zormna closed her mouth and said nothing, though she heard Joy snort at it. She had finally figured out why Joy was acting this way, and decided to ignore it.

Adam continued. “Do not deny to him that you love me.”

Despite the warning, Zormna choked on a laugh again. “I will confess to you that I love him.”

Mr. Humphries started a glare at her, this time maintaining his gaze on her so that she did not forget. Sometimes, he believed, Zormna needed constant supervision—brilliant student or not. 

“So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.” Adam glanced at her and then at Sam whose eyes followed the text silently across the room. Sam seemed intent on his book and only glanced once in a while at the readers.

“If I do so, it will be of more price, being spoken behind your back, than to your face.” Zormna said and yawned.

Mr. Humphries glared at her more intently. She still was not getting the hint.

“Poor soul, thy face is much abus’d with tears,” Adam read.

Reading the reply, Zormna said, “The tears have got small victory by that; for it was bad enough before their spite.”

On line, “Thou wrong’st it, more than tears, with that report.”

Reading Juliet, “That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; and what I spake, I spake to my face.”

Shaking his head and staring at Zormna now, Adam read, “Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander’d it.”

Zormna rolled her eyes and finished her lines. “It may be so, for it is not mine own. Are you at leisure, Holy Father, now; or shall I come to you at evening mass?”

Mr. Humphries looked down and read his part.

Jeff listened with half an ear at the exchange. It was very poetic and a little mind-numbing to hear. The deep rumble of his teacher’s voice accompanying the light dancing Irish-like tone Zormna had replying in her usual spirit made him think more than listen. He thought about the one thing he had leisure to think of—what of Zormna? Up until then he had kept their relationship distant, treating her as a thing he had to keep and water and protect rather than the passionate human being he started to understand. That dance on Saturday had awoken something in him. A commonality. And though he had been able to ignore the other things they had in common, compartmentalizing them since camp and writing them off as personality quirks, he started to wonder if his methods of protecting her were wrong.

If truth were told, he had kept her out of all of the rebellion’s operations because he still harbored some resentment about her former life. He had always imagined her a spoiled kid from the Patrol, one with access to technology he envied, and ease from all the troubles he had grown up with. However, as the summer had passed and gone, and school had started with him in closer proximity to her, he was reminded that this soldier with attitude was not a lax observer, but an active hands-on kind of girl that did not shy away from a challenge—something he had originally categorized as being bratty. But now, he saw it as brave. That alone made her different from the other Tarrns. They always waited in fear. She wished to fight.

“…Be not long to speak;” she read Juliet’s lines fervently. “I long to die, if what thou speak’st speak not of remedy.”

His thoughts went again to their dance on Saturday. It was lively. It was passionate, much like her. It was a sign she wanted to live life, not just sit back. Perhaps he had been unjust in his methods to keep her out. He knew Zormna chose to stay with the McLennas and fight rather than move in with him and the rest of the rebellion heads because she cherished her freedom. She was clearly aware of his growing inclination to limit her movements, an inclination he now regretted. In fact, she was only calling him Jeff in public now, much to his relief. She only slipped up occasionally in closer circles, which made little difference except Adam Arbor and Sam Perkins had never heard his real name before and it forced him to give his made up explanation of being named after the villain in Aladdin one more time.

“Love give me strength! And strength shall help afford. Farewell, dear father!”  Zormna placed her book down.

Jeff leaned back in his seat and glanced at Zormna. She was not a person that should be bottled up. It was time to let her in on what he knew.

Mr. Humphries directed them to read the next scene. “Who is reading Capulet?”

A boy in the far corner raised his hand.

*

Miss Bianchi placed the grades for the booths from the cultural fair on the bulletin board then started into her lesson without a word less than a thousand about the delight she had seeing their excellent participation. Jennifer checked the paper for Zormna who decided she didn’t care anymore what she got from a ‘biased prick’, as she called her teacher. When Jennifer returned, she shrugged and told them they all got B+, marking down for whatever imaginary thing her teacher had dug up. The only A in the class belonged to Michelle and Stacey who had both run the Hawaiian booth. They were the ones that had provided Miss Bianchi with her orange and green dress for the fair. When Tammy found out that her group had received only a B for their Eiffel tower booth, she fumed in her seat, grumbling under her breath about brownnosers and butt kissers.

Michelle only smiled smugly, lifting her chin at a higher tilt. “It pays to play the game.”

Watching surreptitiously, Jessica chuckled, shaking her head with a peek to Zormna who was putting all her attention into her textbook.

History class left them heaped in much homework. Zormna hefted hers silently to her locker with Sam and Adam, joined by Jennifer who found it puzzling that she was now taking a slight backseat when they were around. Jessica walked in the same direction but kept her distance except from Zormna. Both Adam and Sam parted from them with waves. Jessica nodded to Zormna and hurried off. Then Jennifer and Zormna made their way to Biology where they got to look at cell division slides and had a pop quiz on the names of the phases of Mitosis. When they finished and Zormna had to drag her books to Chemistry to meet up with Darren and Sam, she felt laden down, exhausted with the mundane life. She half wished the FBI would do something just to make it interesting.

She sat at their lab desk and stared at the flask of hydrochloric acid in front of her, half listening to the lecture and demonstration. Darren sat with his notebook open. He was writing furiously, like he was taking notes. Zormna glanced at the page again. Next to what he was writing was his homework for that day, already completed. He had gone ahead and finished it all. All he had to do was the lab experiment and record the results.

“You may begin,” their teacher instructed.

Standing up, Zormna looked over at Darren. He closed his notebook with a snap and smiled at his lab partner.

Blushing quickly, he said, “I’ll get the beaker. You get the dropper.”

Nodding with a smile, Zormna fished around their equipment for the dropper. This kind of science wasn’t part of her former training so she was finding this whole experimentation process with toxic chemicals amusing if not intriguing. She had studied all the theory and had seen all the chemical reactions on digital record, but this real life handling was entirely educational.

Darren lifted his eyes from his work, carrying the powder they were to measure. Though in corner of his eyes, he caught sight of Sam who was struggling with his measurements. Sam’s lab partner was no help. Darren could not banish his smug grin. He looked again to his own work.

Dumping in the powder, Zormna gazed at the bubbling action and then the fizzling after effect inside the beaker. Darren peered at it also then peeked back at her delighted expression as she watched the chemical reaction. Their teacher strolled over with a pleased turn of his lips at how well they produced their experiments then spoke loudly for others to pay attention.

“It looks like group four has successfully completed the experiment. Darren, can you tell what had just happened?” their teacher said.

Darren nodded as he pointed to their beaker. “The acid mixed with the base has created a chemical reaction that has made a neutral compound.”

Their teacher nodded with approval.

“And why?” Mr. Zimmer asked, looking at Zormna.

Clearing her throat, she explained, “The acid has a positive charge which is attracted to the base’s negative charge. The positive and negative charges then bond to create a chemical reaction.”

Their teacher nodded again. “To put it plainly, yes; people often say opposites attract.”

Everyone tried to stifle their moans.

He continued. “Remember, everything, when it comes down to the infinitesimal details, is energy. Once you understand that, you can manipulate matter into anything you want. Understanding the nature of things is the key to success and scientific discovery.”

Their teacher continued strolling around the room, observing the experiments of the other students with a territorial sort of pride. Marking down their results in their notebooks, Darren and Zormna cleaned up their experiment, taking the rest of the time to finish their homework before class ended.

Once the class let out, Zormna quickly packed her books into her bag and lugged them out of the door. She glanced up to ask something of Darren—but when she lifted her eyes to where he had just been, she saw him rush out into the hall as if he were late for something.

“Hey, Zormna!” Sam called to her, walking after her. “Wait up.”

She stopped, looking back over her shoulder. Sam hurried to her side, carrying his books under his arm with some difficulty, delivering his usual eager smile. She started walking again once he reached her, and they both walked to the cafeteria together.

“You and Darren always get done so fast. How do you do it?” he asked, nearly laughing.

Smirking to