- 3.
The first time Ethan defended Lily was during
English class. English was our easiest subject.
We’d all had private tutors since we were
toddlers. Our accents were impeccable, our
grammar flawless.
One day, the teacher called on Lily to read.
From the first word, the class erupted in
giggles. Her pronunciation was atrocious, thick
with a working–class accent. The laughter
spread until Lily fell silent. The teacher,
flustered, told her to sit down and quickly
moved on.
After class, Chloe, always the mean girl, went
up to Lily and loudly mimicked her accent. The
others laughed. Lily sat with her head down, her
shoulders shaking slightly.
I felt a sudden unease. I was about to tell Chloe
to stop when Ethan, who’d been sleeping, sat
- up. He banged his copy of “Harry Potter” on his
desk. The sound cut through the laughter. He
looked at Chloe, his face expressionless. “Shut
- up. You’re annoying.”
Chloe froze, her smile dying on her face. The
room went silent. I looked at Ethan, then at
Chloe, offering a gentle smile. “Chloe, class is about to start.” Chloe nodded, taking the cue, and dragged her friends back to their seats.
I glanced at Lily. She was looking at Ethan, her
eyes shining with gratitude, whispering
something to him. Ethan didn’t react.
Later, I saw them again in the library. Lily was
practicing her pronunciation with a small
recorder. Ethan walked over, his “Harry Potter” in hand. He sat next to her. “You’re doing it
<
wrong.” He opened his book, pointed to a
sentence. “Read this.”
Lily, blushing, stumbled through the sentence.
“Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside
was showing no sign of sleepiness.”
Ethan tapped the word “drifting.” I could hear
him patiently correcting her pronunciation,
guiding her towards a more polished accent.
The library was silent, sunlight streaming
through the windows, illuminating the two of
them like a painting.
It still wouldn’t have bothered me if it weren’t
for what happened next. Lily, staring at Ethan’s
face, whispered, “I’m so envious of Vivian.”
The envy was clear. From that moment on, I
started to dislike her.
