Page 17 of Riding A Cock-Horse
“Tell me about yourself,” I suddenly prompt.
Belle shrugs.
“Not much to know that you don't already. I'm American—from Nebraska—and I'm studying Lit at Oxford.”
“Yeah, butwhyare you studying Lit?”
Belle crinkles her nose adorably.
“Well, I guess because I've always loved to read and thought there wasn't enough passion about classic literature. I mean, do you know how fucked up Shakespeare is?! Everything is an innuendo! Why is nobody appreciating that more?! As Benedick said inMuch Ado About Nothing: I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes. Freaking ‘eyes’ is an old word for vag! Only you Brits would liken eyes to fur burgers..”
I laugh.
“Of course, you would love Shakespeare. You two are peas in a pod. And trust me, you don't have to tell me what a perv Shakespeare is—allBritish children know.”
“Well, they're not tellingAmericanchildren,” Belle smirks. “In fact, I'm pretty convinced that my English teachers in high school hadno ideawhat Shakespeare was really saying—like Georgia O'Keeffe's flower paintings…queef coughers all day long.”
I choke at this, nearly dying.
This woman is too much, and I adore her.
“Queef coughers?!”
“Yep, every red poppy that woman painted was a ham candle warmer; just like most every covert sex reference Shakespeare makes is about some lady’s calamari cockring.”
If I didn’t love the Yank before, I just fell head over heels.
“What about your parents? What do they do?” I ask, steering the conversation away from fannies.
“Dad’s the regional manager of a chain of grocery stores and my mom is a news anchor.”
“Oh, wow, that's aces,” I say.
Belle shrugs.
“You couldn't pay me to do that job—the woman has to be at the studio at four in the morning so she can do the five o'clock news. No, thank you.”
I cringe.
“I agree. It doesn't sound as glamorous anymore. No brothers or sisters?”
“Nope, just me, my mom, and my dad. I had a really happy childhood, but there wasn’t really much to do. Like I said, I lived in the middle of nowhere. I went to the University of California, Berkeley for undergraduate school and realized that I just adored classical literature and decided that's what I wanted to get my degree in. Then, I was offered my scholarship at Oxford—and how do you pass up Oxford?!”
I roll my eyes.
“I know, right? Although, thatisa pretty big accomplishment. You should be really chuffed for yourself.”
“Chuffed?”
“Proud,” I explain, and Belle beams.
“I am. Thank you.”
“But what do you plan to do with your classical literature degree?”
Now, she frowns, and I want to kick myself in the arse for taking away her smile.
“Honestly…I really don't know. Initially, I wanted to be a traveling professor who teaches about what Shakespeare is really saying, but I don't know how many people would hire me when they find out that Shakespeare was actually just a bunch of porn poems.”
