François almost moaned when the teacher started lecturing at the front of the class; English by far was his worst subject, and the current topic only made him want to tear the hair from his scalp: they were reading Shakespeare's classic work, MacBeth. Anything other than Shakespeare was bad enough, as he had to go out of pocket for translations anyway, but the Scottish Play deserved its own ring of hell.
"Now, for those of you wondering... No, you won't have to read Macbeth on your own. All the reading will be done in class. That being said, we need to assign parts for reading," the teacher droned, pulling out a pen to scribble names down for who was reading what. François merely rolled his eyes and groaned from his seat. C'est barbant.... he thought, pulling out a pen and discreetly scribbling some words on a piece of scrap paper. Surely, there had to be something better than this!
'Comment tu trouves Macbeth? Ça ne me dit rien. it read. Without even looking, François passed to it the person sitting beside him. It wasn't like the teacher would know what he was saying...
"Now, for those of you wondering... No, you won't have to read Macbeth on your own. All the reading will be done in class. That being said, we need to assign parts for reading," the teacher droned, pulling out a pen to scribble names down for who was reading what. François merely rolled his eyes and groaned from his seat. C'est barbant.... he thought, pulling out a pen and discreetly scribbling some words on a piece of scrap paper. Surely, there had to be something better than this!
'Comment tu trouves Macbeth? Ça ne me dit rien. it read. Without even looking, François passed to it the person sitting beside him. It wasn't like the teacher would know what he was saying...