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happened.
    I hold my hands together, take a
breath, and watch William for the rest of the game. But focusing on
William is a struggle.
    And then the game is over, just
like that. It has passed me by as I was fighting the mayhem inside
my mind. Everyone moves. I look around to find the boy, but he's
nowhere to be seen. Disappointment runs through me as I realize I
might never see him again. We head down the stairs and join
William’s family at the bottom. I’m so distracted I don’t even
understand what’s being said. Mrs. Fox is talking, so it’s probably
nothing I care to listen to. After the match—which William’s team
apparently won—my parents and I go back home. I walk through the
rest of the day in a trance.
    I pretend to be aware of my
surroundings, and no one says anything to me. It’s easy to fake it
when no one pays attention to you to begin with. It’s Sunday, so I
claim I have homework to do. I go to my room and sit on my bed with
a book, but my mind is gone. I see him, the boy, in front of my
eyes, his face still quite clear. I wish I had never seen him to
begin with, because now I know what longing feels like: It feels
like misery.

Chapter 6
    I can't stop
thinking about him . At dinner last night, when my parents
were lecturing me about my upcoming wedding, my mind kept drifting
away. I was trapped, caught in a web of my own thoughts spinning
over and over again. I found an imaginary refuge in his facial
features, a perfect way to block out everything else around me. I
tried to envision what his voice and laughter sound like, and I
spent far too much time giving him made-up names, wondering which
one might fit him the best.
    When my mother finally snapped me
out of it, I claimed I was daydreaming about my wedding. It was
still rude that I hadn’t been listening, but it was better for them
to think it was because of William than for me to acknowledge the
truth. I keep hoping against all hope that I might see him again, a
wish both dangerous and childish on my part. I have no rights to
try and get to know a man other than William; the punishment for it
would not be worth the risk.
    "Miss Clay," a voice calls out to
me, shattering the picture of him I was drafting somewhere in my
reverie. "Earth to Thia Clay," the social studies teacher speaks
louder. I sit up, fully awake, my back suddenly
straight.
    "Would you mind sharing what has
captured your attention, Miss Clay? Or would you rather answer my
question?"
    "I apologize, Sir. I didn't hear
your question," I acknowledge, flushing in shame. I lower my gaze
as a few girls snicker around the classroom.
    The teacher rolls his eyes and
calls for another student to answer. She's quick to respond and
prove that, unlike me, she was paying attention. "Attempt at
divorce today leads to imprisonment, Sir," she tells
him.
    I almost snort with disdain.
Divorce is only a concern for women. Men, after all, hold all the
possessions. If a man is tired of his wife, he can simply have her
committed while he holds on to the belongings. Women don't have
that luxury. Some of them are desperate enough to choose their own
demise and commit suicide rather than remain married. The situation
of women is always dangerous and unstable. A woman never knows if
her marriage will hold, and her life can be over if her husband
wishes it.
    Being a woman in this world is
anything but enjoyable. The unfairness of our situation makes me
mad, but I can never fully acknowledge it, even to myself. In my
heart, there is this hidden place where anger is always boiling. I
constantly try to quiet down the wrath raging inside me because
showing anger would be dangerous, maybe even fatal. I've heard
rumors about what happens to those who don't comply, those who
digress and break our strict rules, and that has been enough to
convince me I have to keep my thoughts a secret.
    "Correct, Miss Wilson," the
teacher says. "And what happens to the girls who refuse to follow
all common sense? To those who