That Way Madness Lies: XV of Shakespeare's Most Notable Works Reimagined

by Dahlia Adler

Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th’ quick, Yet with my nobler reason ’gainst my fury Do I take part. The rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance.

O brave new world, That has such people in ’

I’m angry, as angry as the storm outside.

It’s the irony of our names. Patience has never had to practice patience in her entire life, what with how quickly everything comes to her. Whatever she wants, whenever she wants it. Whereas I, named Prosper—the whim of a mother who loves poetry—haven’t seen a whole lot of what passes for prosperity in high school. Not when it comes to internships or summer opportunities or homecoming dates who aren’t Netflix.

I’m stunned, watching this scene, uncomprehending. Is Benjamin this distraught my sister’s leaving? It’s not like Patience isn’t coming home, not like she’s being shipped off to some deserted island or exiled from Oklahoma permanently. Her internship is only six weeks. I feel bad for him, even if I can’t empathize with sadness at my sister’s absence.

From their haphazard placement, I don’t even feel like she’s proud of them. She just needs places to put her accomplishments.

“I told her I loved her,” he says, like he’s speaking mostly to himself, “and she broke up with me.”

“You broke up with him?” Patience shrugs her backpack onto one shoulder. “Yeah, with the internship and everything, it was time.” She sounds like she’s commenting on the weather. Well, the weather on a normal day. Not this weather.

The official recommendation for a tornado watch is to “have a plan.” I’m pretty certain a good plan doesn’t include driving to the airport.

We’re high school in-laws. Or we were.

The elder Campos sibling is not gangly. He’s a swimmer, and, well, he has the receipts.

We’re at the passive-aggressive point where every statement is spoken as a question.

“Sickening” is exactly how I’d describe the one movie night where they didn’t know I knew what was going on under their blanket. Moulin Rouge will never be the same for me.

I know one thing for certain. We’re all trapped here—together—for a while.

Her hospital is thirty minutes from our house on the edge of what could generously be called a small town. It feels more like an island, with miles and miles of straight, dusty roads separating us from the rest of everything.

Everything is about Patience’s feelings, her internship, and never what she did to me. At least I can thank this storm for making Patience’s life fractionally more difficult. Meteorological payback.

“They had a pretty intense relationship. Even if she did the dumping, I bet she’s upset.” The suggestion makes me laugh. “If I know Patience, she’s started planning her life in New York. Benjamin just doesn’t fit in.” “That sounds a little mercenary.” Sam’s voice is delicate. I huff. “You’re joking, right? Do you know my sister?”

I just wanted the summer in New York City, a summer outside the isolated emptiness of where we live. More, I wanted something I could call mine.

I’m conscious I just dumped a whole lot of very personal resentment on him, and I don’t care. It felt good. “What sucks is knowing your younger sister is smarter than you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if Patience only pursued Benjamin because she knew you were my first kiss,” I say softer. “Like she has to do everything I do, but better.” Sam draws back, faux indignant. “Oh, so you’re saying my brother is a better first kiss than me?”

It’s kind of sweet, this objectively hot guy feeling abashed remembering his middle-school kissing incompetence.

“Maybe Patience just wants to be like you,” he suggests. It’s an idea I’d never considered, one I can’t fathom. The rain picks up on my windowpane, newly insistent. I say nothing, weighing how to reply. If you want to be like someone, wouldn’t you be nicer to them?

“You had a huge crush on me?” The question leaps out of me. I’m surprised and struck by how confidently he confessed it. I’d always assumed he just wanted his first kiss. Everyone wanted their first kiss on record in seventh grade, myself included. I never figured he wanted me, with my face full of freckles, frizzy red hair, and overly large soccer sweatshirts.

“I’m guessing the kiss erased that though, huh?” I still, startled by the implications of his question and the new direction of this conversation. Even the rain and wind outside seem to subside for the slightest moment, like they’re waiting.

“I just don’t love you!” It’s like the wind’s finally ripped the door open and stolen the oxygen from the room. Nobody moves, everyone horrified and feeling incredibly uncomfortable. I want desperately to know how to fix this situation. Unfortunately, I have nothing. When a wailing echoes into the room, I wonder for a second if Benjamin has started some sort of weird keening.

Relief rushes into me. Even the upgrade of tornado watch into tornado warning isn’t uncommon in Oklahoma. It’s sometimes slightly scary but statistically unlikely to hit our house. Right now, it’s sparing us from the horrible tension in the room.

I realize with dawning discomfort that it’s silent in here. The sounds of the storm and the sirens don’t reach this inner part of the house. Which is the point, I know—it’s safest in the small interior space. Safe and stiflingly awkward.

I catch panic flit over Patience’s face. She’s not enjoying this. She didn’t break up with Benjamin because she’s cruel. She just doesn’t love him, and now she’s trapped in this tiny bathroom watching him cry. It’s a nightmare. For the first time in a long time, I feel compelled to help my sister.

“I draw a little,” he says. His voice is soft in a way that tells me it’s a lot more than a little.

When she tells us the tornado warning has lifted, I leave the bathroom feeling like I’ve survived something.

“Well, it’s not like talking to you was a huge imposition for me,” I reply. He grins, and only now, not during the half-hour tornado warning, do I feel the currents of air in the room changing. It’s a nice grin, fuller on one half of his face in an inviting, genuine kind of way. “Glad to hear it,” he says. I’m about to face away from him, letting the pleasant moment pass, when I catch myself. I’ve allowed Patience to take from me and done nothing except enjoy how the weather inconvenienced her. Instead, I might be happier if I pursue what I want without worrying about what my sister does. It’s not just right to let this grudge go—I deserve to let it go, to dwell on new hopes instead of old wounds. I step closer to Sam. “I still think you’re cute. By the way.” His face furrows in confusion, which, I can confirm, is indeed cute. “Our first kiss didn’t erase it,” I clarify. He looks surprised, but not in a bad way. “Redo?” I propose. His smile relaxes, and his eyes sparkle, like he wasn’t expecting this but is completely into it. Delighted, even. I’m enjoying how my heart is pounding, the heady rush of him stepping closer to me. “I feel compelled to point out I don’t do that tongue thing anymore,” he murmurs, putting a hand on my hip. I laugh, hardly noticing when my hands find his waist in return. “Unfortunately,” I say, lifting my chin, “I do still drool.” I feel his grin widen, his lips a breath from mine. “I’ll take my chances.” He does, closing the distance and kissing m...

“Seriously? Already? Were you just waiting for me to get dumped?”

“Should I call you, or did you only kiss me ‘just because’?” He studies my expression. I roll my eyes. “Call me,” I say, “and we’ll find out.” He kisses me, earning a labored moan from Benjamin in the front seat of Sam’s car. “Okay, then.” He flashes me a smile. I watch him walk the whole way down the drive, permitting myself to enjoy the view of his swimmer’s stride in skinny jeans.

“I guess this storm was payback for what I did to you with the internship.” Her expression is fragile, like it’s finally hitting her she really hurt me. The thing is, over the past hours, I’ve let my resentment die down and drift off like the winds of the storm. Still, it’s nice of her to say. I shrug. “No, it wasn’t. Not even you deserved to be trapped in a bathroom with your ex.” Patience laughs, her face brightening like the lining of the clouds outside. “Looks like you had fun, though,” she says leadingly. I smile. “Yeah,” I say. I feel lighter somehow, and I realize it’s part of what’s nice about moving on. You’re freer to look forward. To imagine museum dates, poetry classes, and kisses. Maybe spending the summer stuck in Oklahoma won’t be the worst.

Oh, time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me to untie!

(How did he always know the right things to say?) But was it still a good idea? Were they jumping out of a plane without a parachute?

Shit, was this like walking the plank? Who the hell came up with having a midwinter dance styled after a shipwreck, anyway?

Vi was never going to tell anyone the truth: Olivia made Vi feel alive. Being around Olivia was like having a personal sun. Like finding a hundred dollars in the front pocket of a pair of jeans on laundry day. Like an impossibility. An impossibility because Olivia rarely seemed aware that Vi was in the same room with her, even though they saw each other once a week. Vi wanted Olivia, but they also wanted Olivia to reciprocate their feelings. It didn’t mean anything if this interest wasn’t mutual. Still, Vi couldn’t stop thinking about her and the desire that ripped through their body. They sometimes craved being romantic and cute with Olivia. All the other stuff didn’t matter; that wasn’t Vi’s thing. But Olivia didn’t ever seem to notice the secretary in those student council meetings. Besides, Olivia was for Seb, and the sacrifice would be worth it, if only to make Seb smile again. So maybe this was a miscalculation. Maybe now was not the time to do this, to make their first public declaration, their first attempt to be wholly themself. But … Maybe. Maybe it was. Maybe Vi had to do something for themself in all of this. Maybe this was like walking the plank, except that the plunge wasn’t into a cold, dark, and unforgiving sea. Maybe it was a leap into the future. To new beginnings, they thought. They ran their hands down the lapels of their red velvet suit. It was time for Vi to become Vi. And in order to do so, in order to shed who everyone saw them as, they were going t...

Oh, this is a terrible, terrible idea, he thought. A shipwreck? How is that romantic or entertaining?

Someone should make them … walk the plank? Oh god, was he going to start thinking in terrible ship-related puns? He did not like this.

And sometimes, best friends set you up on dates with pretty women. There was just a tiny problem, one that Seb was still keeping to himself. He had almost confessed it to Vi, moments after Vi had told him all about the whole nonbinary thing. He knew they would be trustworthy, that they would understand, but Seb worried that he would be stealing their spotlight. They had a new name! One that was spelled so damn cool, that was just a single syllable so they could match Seb; one that allowed them to step fully into who they were. Seb couldn’t take that moment away from them. Thus, this whole absurdity began.

“You’ve been here for a whole sixty seconds, and I bet you’ve already made a bad Katy Perry joke in your head.”

And now, Seb’s best friend thought that setting him up with Olivia—who was perfectly fine and perfectly pretty and perfectly not at all his type—would make him happy. Why had he talked about wanting to be Olivia’s friend so much? He truly meant it! But just as a friend. So it was a sweet gesture really, but come on. Wasn’t it obvious? Didn’t Antonio just know

Oh, he should have said something to his twin. Vi would have been exactly the right person to tell. But this was their moment, and Seb was so proud of that suit.

Antonio tugged his arm. And his heart. And yeah, it was cheesy to think that, but Seb didn’t care. He wanted to be cheesy with Antonio Vasquez.

Was someone on the school council a huge fan of Titanic or something? Who in all honesty thought giving a school dance a shipwreck theme was a good thing?

“Olivia, I swear, he is deadweight. He’s like one of those logs you find washed up on the shore. Or something.”

But even as Olivia said it, she knew that wasn’t true. After he had broken her heart, Olivia had sworn off all potential relationships. Yes, she was still in high school, and yes, she was going to wait. Besides, she wasn’t into the same things her peers were. She was confident sex was not going to be her thing; she just wanted everything else. The romance. The attention. Even kissing! So here was a convenient out: seven years of devotion to herself. Then she didn’t have to explain what was actually going on with her. Besides, there was not one human being at this “dance” (and she certainly made air quotes in her mind when she thought that word) who could excite her. Well. She had to make her appearance as a student council member. Mal would inevitably find his way back to her and spend the rest of the night shooing off anyone who tried to talk to her. A part of her appreciated that, but another … she knew Mal liked her. Like that. But how could she tell him the truth? He would stop being her friend, wouldn’t he? Maybe he wasn’t actually a friend if his idea of friendship required sex. She thought about that as Maria guided her into the fray. The truth was that she wanted something that felt so cliché, so normal, and yet it was her truth. Olivia just wanted to be swept off her feet.

But what happened when the nice thing you did for someone else contradicted the nice thing you wanted?

Few things were more crushing: wanting more but being unable to have it. Yet Antonio could not resist. It was like every part of him wanted to help Seb, to do things that made him smile, to show him how much Antonio adored him. Because maybe, just maybe, Seb would do the same things for him.