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Peggy gripped the edge of the table as she leaned forward, her knuckles going white, “You can not possibly believe that Marlowe is better than Shakespeare!”
The quirky Theatre major on the other side of the room leveled the English woman with a steady gaze, “I think that on the stage Marlowe's work tends to translate better. Everyone makes Shakespeare so stuffy now-a-days!”
“But Shakespeare isn't stuffy! It's full of dick jokes!”
“No one ever delivers them right though! They are hidden in the text unless you've studied it!”
“Sounds to me like that's more of an actors problem than a writing problem!” Peggy bit out, getting to her feet, glaring at the blue eyed girl across from her.
The girl matched her move for move and stood, planting her hands on her hips, “Well it sounds to me like you're just a Shakespeare snob!”
“Girls! That is quite enou-” Professor Fry tried to quite the girls.
“Sounds to me like you're just a lazy actress!”
Blue eyes narrowed, “You don't know a damn thing about me English!”
Professor Fry stepped into the empty circle formed by the desks and crossed her arms, “That is quite enough I said! Now if you two aren't going to let this go I'm going to have to ask you to leave!”
Peggy watched as the actress sighed and turned her eyes to the ground, “Sorry Professor Fry.” She sat and acted like she was over the argument, though Peggy could still see the tension in her shoulders.
“My apologies Professor,” she said before returning to her own seat, not eager to be kicked out of class.
Professor Fry returned to the front of the class and asked a new question to further the discussion, but Peggy barely registered it as she watched the actress. This was the first class the two had taken together, European Playwrights 1400-1700. The class had ended up a mixture of mostly English and Theatre majors, which lead to quite a few arguments over if older plays were better read or performed, but this was the first time the two had ever interacted.
Not that Peggy hadn't noticed the girl, she'd have to be blind not to. Blind and deaf given how much the girl liked to talk. Until now Peggy usually agreed with her opinion.
Snapping herself out of her stare she focused back into the discussion to see Thompson speaking, she internally groaned, his opinion was one she could do without.
“- then there's the fact that Jonson never gets recognized alongside good old Willy and Chris.”
A huff from across the room drew Peggy back to the actress.
“You have a different opinion Martinelli?” Thompson said in his usual cocky voice.
“The name is Angie. How many times do I have to tell you that? And yeah I do. Jonson isn't the slightest bit comparable to either Shakespeare or Marlowe.”
“Oh so now you're a Shakespeare fan,” Peggy let out bitterly, and accidentally.
Quirking an eyebrow Angie looked across at her, “Never said I wasn't, English. Just don't think it translates well to the modern stage.”
“Guess we're back to the lazy actor theory then,” Peggy quipped right back.
Angie rolled her eyes before glaring at the English major, “Or we're back to the you're a snob theory. I like that one a hell of a lot more!”
Peggy felt her jaw drop and it took her a few seconds to be able to gather her wits enough to snap it shut.
“Just 'cause you're English don't mean you get to be the end all be all of Shakespeare opinions.”
Peggy glared, her knuckles were white again, and her jaw clenched so hard it almost hurt, “Doesn't mean I'm not right. Marlowe was just a drunk!”
“So was Hemingway! Doesn't mean he didn't write good things!”
“Miss Martinelli! Miss Carter!” Professor Fry shouted above the women, “I gave you a chance! Now out!”
Peggy's eyes grew wide as she looked over to the professor, “Please Pro-”
“I don't want to hear it Miss Carter. Out.”
Shooting a glare across the room to the actress she gathered her papers and books, shoving them in her bag with anger caused abandonment before storming out of the class.
Once she was about 10 feet out the door she turned on her heel and put her hands on her hips, prepared to tear back into the actress who was right behind her. She had underestimated the distance between them though and soon found herself with an armful of Angie and only just managed to keep them both vertical.
“Geez English, if you wanted a hug all you had to do was ask, didn't need to get me kicked out of class,” the actress quipped, a blush already rising in her cheeks.
And wow was that blush pretty, Peggy found herself staring into blue eyes and forgot for a moment just how angry she was, but only for a moment. Stepping back to a more respectable distance she summoned that anger back, “I got us kicked out?”
Angie had a small smile on her face now, her anger seeming to have left the minute she left the classroom, “Damn right, you and that Shakespeare snobbery of yours.”
To anyone else it would have been obvious that Angie was just teasing at this point, but Peggy took it personally and it only fed her passion, “Knowing that Marlowe was just a drunk fool is not snobbery!”
With a small chuckle to herself Angie shook her head and started towards the building exit, “How about we continue this over coffee English?”
Peggy stood there stunned, “My name is Peggy.”
“I know. Now are you coming or not English?”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times while she tried to think of a reply. The actress truly was frustrating, and cute. She sighed and stepped into place beside Angie, “Lead the way.”
XXX
They sat across from each other at a small table in a nearby Starbucks, Angie playing with the straw in her whipped cream topped sugar abomination of a drink. “Now are we going to discuss the fact that you think I'm a lazy actress or not?”
Peggy blushed and looked down at the table, her hands wrapping around the paper cup that held her coffee, “I didn't mean... I mean I did, but it was mostly said in anger. I'm sure you're a fantastic actress Angie.”
“Nuh uh. None of that. Flattery will get you no where. No come on, spit it out.”
Peggy laughed and looked up, quirking one eyebrow. This woman really knew how to drive a girl crazy, in more than one way. “I merely meant that perhaps instead of blaming Shakespeare you should be blaming the actors who portray his work poorly.”
Angie considered that for a few moments, leaned down to take a long drink and then smiled.
Peggy felt her knees go weak and was very glad she was sitting.
“I agree. I would love to get to do Shakespeare done right. The problem is that no one wants to do it. Marlowe on the other hand doesn't have that boring connotation attached to him.”
Peggy sighed, “So you're basing your opinion on what the public wants? Not on what is actually good?”
Angie fixed Peggy with a look she couldn't quite read, amusement maybe, “That's part of my job English. If the public doesn't want to see what I'm doing then I don't get to eat.”
She had a point the English woman supposed, “I think we're talking about this from two different points here. Can we just agree to disagree?”
The blonde had a grin from ear to ear as she responded, “Sounds good English. Now why don't we talk about that blush.
Peggy's eyes widened and her blush deepened as she choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken.
Angie just smirked and gave her a 'well get on with it' type of look.
“I-I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about,” Peggy stuttered though, trying to ignore the burning of her cheeks, knowing that it was quite obvious what Angie meant.
Just then Angie's phone buzzed on the table. Peggy did her best to fight off the blush while Angie quickly typed back to whoever it was that had pinged her.
“Sorry English, looks like I gotta bounce,” Angie said, a bit less bubbly than before, “Sequin emergency over in the costume shop.”
Peggy let out an incredulous laugh, not believing Angie for a second, “I'm sure.”
With that Angie held out her phone where there was a picture of someone Peggy didn't know with a face that clearly said 'are you kidding me', they were covered in loose sequins in front of what looked like a supply closet. “That's Sarah, she's a slut. Or at least that's what she insists. Not a fan of the word myself. Anyway it's kinda my fault so I should go help clean up and grovel a bit so that she doesn't rethink casting me in her next show.”
This time the laugh she let out was much more genuine, “She doesn't look to happy. Best hurry.”
Angie grabbed her bag and was half way to the door before she turned around and grabbed a napkin. She scribbled something down and then flipped it over and pushed it towards Peggy before leaving again, her own blush bright pink against her cheeks.
Peggy watched her leave, not that she would ever admit to it, before flipping the napkin. 'Call me sometime English ;)' followed by her phone number was scrawled in messy hand writing on the napkin.
Her blush returned in full force as she entered the number into her phone.