Enter Romeo: Chapters 1-3

Chapter 1: Starring…

Enter: The Girl

“Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Why didn’t you bring a ladder you twit?”

“Cut!”

The director glowered at Emmy La’Beau, who, standing on the unfinished scaffolding, looked more like a girl contemplating suicide than the leading lady in the spring play.

“Take five everyone,” said the director, “and when we get back, I need everyone to focus. There’s two months before opening night, and we don’t even have our scenery yet. Where’s the stage manager?”

The cast and crew walked off the stage to sit in the darkened auditorium as the director pulled the stage manager aside for a private tongue lashing. The poor kid had enough to deal with already, what with two of his crew being arrested just last week for smoking pot in the boy’s room.

I was standing by the stage going through some of my lines when Emmy walked up to me, slowly and seductively.

“Hello Romeo,” she whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait for us to rehearse our kiss. I bought some new peach lip balm just for the occasion. Want to get a taste?” She laughed and pinched my butt as she walked away.

Yep, I was Romeo. But I wasn’t her Romeo.

Enter: The Girl’s Boyfriend

Emmy ran up to D’Artagnan White, jumped into his arms, and squealed as he carried her away. D’Artagnan was the light guy, only here because he was given the choice between this or detention. They said he cut so many classes that he was technically no longer a student at South Brook High. Still, D’Artagnan had two things I didn’t: a six pack, and Emmy La’Beau.

Emmy La’Beau was ‘that’ girl. The girl every guy wanted and every girl hated. She was only in drama to get out of English class, and she made sure all of us knew it. The director didn’t say anything, because like all of us male cast members he was unable to resist her deep blue eyes that seemed to say, “Sex? What an intriguing idea.”

Emmy had been dating D’Artagnan for almost six months now, much to the chagrin of every guy at South Brook. Earlier in the year, they had been caught in a janitor’s closet, Emmy missing some key articles of clothing and in a rather compromising position. D’Artagnan had been suspended for a month, but Emmy had worked her magic with the principal and got off without a single mark on her record. There were many jokes at her expense about this, but she didn’t care. Emmy relished the attention.

As they disappeared off into the wings, I put down my script and stared after them. “D’Artagnan White,” I muttered to myself, “What kind of name is D’Artagnan anyways?”

A voice next to me answered, “I believe it’s French, possibly Anglo-Saxon in origin. In fact, I believe the exact English translation is ‘Douche bag’. I could be wrong, seeing as how I’m not taking into account the years of linguistic modifications on French slang.”

Enter: The Best Friend

I turned around to see Saul Sinclair standing next to me. He was leaning against the side of the stage, sipping a cold energy drink, and generally looking cooler than anyone should ever legally be.

Saul and I had been friends since we first met at freshman orientation. Saul Sinclair was everything I wasn’t. He was good looking. He played sports. He was popular. He had a current year car. He wasn’t working a dead end job in a rundown food place that no one even goes to anymore.

In case you were wondering, Saul wasn’t always this awesome. When I first met Saul, he was overweight, had an acne problem, and was living with his aunt after his parents got into a serious fight. However, unlike most high school kids, Saul didn’t turn to drugs, or alcohol. Saul does smoke a little, but only once in a while, when it makes sense to.

Instead, Saul started working out. Eating right, joined a gym, got onto some sports teams, and wham. Saul became cool. Just like that. Makes you wonder if anyone can do it, with the right motivation.

Yeah, right. This is high school, not a Disney movie.

Anyways, we stuck it out. Saul and I have been best friends for the past four years. Despite his popularity, Saul has always shared my love for ‘the theatre’ and we’ve been in the play together every year. Sometimes I think the only reason we have a decent audience is because of the girls who come to see him. This year he turned down the lead role because he’s been doing extra work in the gym as a physical trainer, and took the role of Tybalt instead. So, it fell to me. Joy.

Saul finished his can and effortless tossed it across the room where it neatly swished into the waiting trash can. I swear he must practice that when he’s alone. I’ve never seen him miss a shot.

He clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about her bro; she’s not your type anyways. Trust me. She’s way too hot for you.”

We laughed and started to walk back to our spots on the stage. “How would you know if she’s not my type?”

Saul winked at me and said, “Cause she’s a chick.” He walked off stage as the director beckoned everyone to their places to begin again.

 

THE GIRL:

Practice.

Sucked.

It’s so lame. It’s not even in English.

Whatever. As long as it gets me out of Ms. Reinhardt’s class. That old hag never liked me. She’s just jealous of my breasts. That dumb old broad is as flat as her whiteboard. She’s always going on and on about a bunch of dead old white guys who wrote ridiculously long books about whales and boats and stuff.

When I heard about the stupid play, I knew I had to do it just so I wouldn’t have to go through the last two months of my senior year in that damn class. Ever since I started dating my precious D, she’s been giving me dirty looks in the hallways. Like I need her approval. I’d never give up D, and no one, not my teachers, not my parents, can ever change my mind.

Of course, my parents don’t know about D. If they knew they’re ‘precious little girl’ was getting her world rocked on a daily basis, they’d flip out. D and I have been doing it since our one week anniversary. We’re being safe, I’ve been on the pill since October and he still uses a rubber every time, even though I know he hates it.

I love D’Artagnan so much. He’s my world. Sigh.

And those washboard abs certainly don’t hurt.

Anyways.

Where was I?

Oh yeah.

Practice.

Sucked.

D and I snuck off in a closet for a little make out session during a break, but we had to go back before anything serious could happen. I was so worked up by then the rest of practice was a blur. I kept sneaking glances over at D, standing in the wings, doing his light thing, and looking damn sexy.

Every once in a while, he’d wink at me, and I’d feel my body quiver. My mind raced with thoughts of what we would do after, and I felt hot all over.

The last ten minutes of practice, it was so bad I had to take off my jacket. Standing up on that stupid scaffolding, all I wanted to do was tear off my tank top and leap into his arms and, well, you know.

Practice didn’t end fast enough, but when it did, I broke into a run at my man. He knew exactly what I wanted, and as we raced to where he parked his motorcycle, I took off his shirt and undid his belt. D always parked his bike behind the building where no one ever goes. He knows how much I love to do it on his bike.

Afterwards, we put on our clothes and he drove me home. I wrapped my arms tightly over his muscular chest as he drove, and I could feel the vibrations from the motorcycle through his hard body. We got to the corner of my street, and he kissed me one long, hard time. I planted a quick kiss on his forehead before he drove away. I like doing that. It’s like my little signature.

Luckily, dad was asleep by the time I opened the back door and went to my room. He was sitting in his recliner, two empty bottles on the floor next to him. Only two? Must’ve been an easy day. Good, I wasn’t in the mood for him right now.

I opened my door, and stared at my tiny, cluttered space I called my room. Old posters of long un-cool boy bands hung from the walls, the edges starting to come up where the tape was wearing off. I swept dirty clothes off my bed and fell backwards onto it.

My head hit something sharp, and after swearing a bit, I felt around and found my old I-Pod. I’d cracked the screen. Great. I fiddled around with the buttons and it burst into life. At least it still worked.

I sighed and plugged in the headphones. I blasted some rap music and closed my eyes as I slowly drifted off to a deep sleep, filled with dreams of my boy and his rather talented tongue. Something told me tomorrow was going to be a good day.

 

The Best Friend:

I threw on faded white jeans and a black V neck tee after a long, hot shower. School was starting in 20 minutes, so for breakfast I grabbed a chocolate protein shake and hopped in my car. My baby, my 2011 Vette, purred to life like jungle cat waiting to pounce. Taking the back roads and going far over the suggested speed limits, I made it to school with 5 minutes to spare. Nice.

As I walked through the front door of South Brook High, I winked at a few of the cute sophmore girls. One winked back, and I made a mental note to say hi during lunch. You never know what could happen until you try.

My best friend always makes fun of my taste in, shall we say, ‘fresh meat’, but he’s been chasing after his precious Juliet for the past three years without any results. You can’t argue with results. Especially if the results are currently wearing a low cut band tee and black skinny jeans. Damn.

Like every morning the past three years, he was waiting for me by my locker.

“Did you see her at practice last night? She was all over me,” he said.

Assuming he was referring to his precious Juliet, I replied, “In your dreams. I heard her in the closet during break, and it wasn’t your name she was moaning.”

I closed my locker and started walking towards first period Calculus as he said, “What does D’Artagnan have that I don’t?”

“I assume that we’re ignoring his chiseled body and perfect hair?” I casually asked.

“Dude, you’re so gay,” he answered, “yes, not counting physical features.”

“Maybe she’s just not meant for you. Maybe you’re meant to find a girl who didn’t flash the principal at the last pep rally or pass out in the boy’s locker room” I replied.

I knew what he was going to say even before he said, “I don’t know man, there’s something about her that I just can’t get over.”

Not like we had this talk every day before class.

We both walked into the classroom and sat down at our seats. As the bell rang, I leaned over and said, “It’s definitely not her sparkling wit or intellectual prowess. Maybe it’s her giant-“

The teacher cut me off before I could finish. Apparently, today we were learning about more exponential functions. God I hate math, but my aunt says it’s important for college. All I know is the girl in front of me is ridiculously cute, and via a complex note passing system I had almost succeeded in getting her to go on a date with me.

When I left for a drink of water, I noticed Emmy La’Beau and D’Artagnan White sneaking out a side door. How did they get away with that on such a constant basis? The only time I ever tried that I got caught and they made me clean the hallways for a week. Not that I mind cleaning, of course.

I came back to find a little note neatly folded and lying on my desk chair. The note had two things written on it: 2035787894 and 9:00PM. The girl in front of me turned around when the teacher wasn’t looked and smiled at me. Not the type of smile that says, ‘Hello, isn’t life lovely’ or ‘How are you doing on this fine day?’ It was the type of smile that says ‘I’m not wearing any underwear’. Looks like tonight was going to be very interesting indeed.

The rest of the day went by very quickly. I held on tightly to the little note with her phone number and time until my knuckles were white. A few minutes after nine o’clock, I called her up.

When she picked up, she softly said, “Meet me at the park in five minutes.”

Before I could stop myself, I said, “The park? At this time of night?

The voice that answered melted in my ears like honey, “So no one else will see what we are doing. Bring a blanket”

I smoothly answered, “Of course, I’ll-“

She cut me off and said, “Be quick, just thinking about you is getting me so, so, hot.”

She whispered the last word into my ear and then hung up.

I ran to my car like the whole track team was chasing me.

It was going to be a good night.

 

The Boyfriend:

I pulled up to the side entrance of the school that morning at ten. I parked my beautiful bike behind the shed and took a moment to clean up a patch of dirt on the side. I take good care of my baby.

Class had already started, but I wasn’t here for class. I was here for Emmy.

She was in gym, so it was the easiest thing in the world to sneak into the girl’s locker room from the backdoor. Like Emmy promised, she was waiting for me with her bag, all ready to go. She leapt into my arms and I kissed her, hard.

We broke the kiss just long enough for me to ask, “What’d you tell the teacher?”

She kissed me on the forehead, god I love it when she does that, before answering, “I told him I had to go to the nurse, now let’s go before someone comes back here.”

I held her hand as we ran out to my bike. When we got behind the shed, Emmy said, “I can’t wait any longer, take me, now” and she started to pull off her shirt.

I stopped her and gently pulled her shirt back down; as much as I wouldn’t mind doing it here, we were already on probation after getting caught earlier that month. I put a finger to her lips when she began to protest, and said, “Don’t worry; we’ll have plenty of time back home. My mom is out on a business trip till tomorrow night. You know what that means.”

She smiled as I climbed onto my bike and said, “Fine, but you can’t stop me from doing this.”

As I started the bike, her hands quickly moved around my sides to grab my…um…gearshift.

God I love this girl.

The motorcycle roared to life as Emmy began to slowly work her hands over my gearshift. I could hear her moaning in my ear as the vibrations from the road traveled through the bike to her soft skin. If we weren’t careful, the fun would be over before it even began. Luckily, my house wasn’t far.

It was a very good afternoon, to say the least.

The night was even better.

 

Chapter 2: The Supporting Cast

Cue: The Morning After

The vibration of my phone stirred me out of a sleep filled with cheerleader outfits, some on, some off. I groaned into my pillow; why do I always wake up before the good part? The blonde one blew me a kiss as I drifted out of my dreams and back into the real world. Who dared disturb my slumber?

There was a new text on my phone. It read, “The sparrows sing under the moon.”

Saul, you sly dog.

A few years back, when Saul started regularly fooling around with girls, we developed a code so he could let me know what was going on without risking being found out. ‘The sparrows sing under the moon’ was a very special phrase. ‘Sparrows’ meant it was outside, and ‘moon’ meant it was at midnight. It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten this text from Saul, but it was a very rare catch.

I swung my legs off my bed and yawned. The clock read 6:30; school started at 7:30. After some exaggerated stretching, I got up and stepped in front of my full body mirror. It’d been a long time since I had sent Saul one of our coded messages. A very long time. I looked at my rather unimpressive physique, first flexing my biceps then my chest, without any noticeable change. I took off my shirt and tried again, still nothing. I sighed and went to find some semi-clean clothes to wear for school.

As much as I’d never admit it, I was jealous of Saul. He had no problem with girls. I was lucky to get a date to homecoming, let alone go all the way with someone. The last girl had been, well, shall we say, a bit on the big side.

No.

Saul will no longer be the only one sending sex texts.

Not anymore.

I stepped in front of the mirror again, imagining myself with biceps, and a six pack, and as I mentally flexed my imaginary muscles, I grinned. After all, if Saul could do it, I could do it too. I ate a small breakfast, avoiding the sugary cereals I so love and sticking to fruit and milk.

“You know what,” I said to myself, “Today, I’m going to walk to school.”

Years later, looking back on this decision, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

An hour and a half later, I half dragged, half stumbled my way through the front doors of South Brook High. My clothes were soaked through with sweat, my hair was sticking out in angles previously only attainable in Japanese cartoons, and my backpack had broken somewhere two miles back, losing most of my books. Not to mention, I was thirty minutes late for first period class.

The secretary looked up at me, leaning against the office door for support, and ask, “Rough morning?”

The nerve of some people.

Thankfully, she didn’t ask for a note, she just wrote me a pass to class and gave me some tissues to try to clean up a bit. All they did was leave little bits of white tissue stuck to my skin. When I knocked on the door of my chemistry class, everyone turned to look at me. I was too tired to be embarrassed, so I just sat down at my desk and waited for my heart to start again.

By second period I was better, the sweat had mostly dried but I still smelled like a wet dog. Everywhere hurt, but luckily, it was gym class, which meant all I had to do was change into my uniform and stand around talking for an hour.

Enter: The best friend

I walked into the locker room just as Saul was taking off his shirt. I wanted to frown at his perfect washboard abs, but I barely had the energy to sit on the bench next to him. As I sat there wheezing, he turned and asked, “Rough morning?”

I nearly clocked him right then and there.

Saul laughed as he easily dodged my shaky punch. “Relax bro,” he said, “I got some news that’ll cheer you up.”

I started undoing my belt as I asked, “What, are they finally deporting you back to Uzbekistan?”

Saul brushed off some bits of tissue that were still stuck to my neck and said, “No. Courtnee is throwing a party tomorrow night.”

“How is that good news for me? Courtnee never invites me to any of her parties,” I said as I helped him fix the tag on his shorts and snapped the waistband, making him jump.

“You can go with me. Besides, you know Emmy always goes to Courtnee’s parties,” Saul said he spun his towel into a whip and lashed at me.

I grabbed my stinging chest and said, “Not like I ever talk to her at parties anyways.”

As we walked out of the locker room, Saul laughed and said “Just trust me. You never know what may happen.”

 

The Girl:

The vibration of my phone stirred me out of a sleep filled with wolves and leather. Don’t ask.

I moved D’s arm off my bare chest and wiggled around to reach my phone. I love D so much, but he’s never been good at the cuddling part. He tends to fall asleep after we have sex, so I usually just plug in my headphones and slowly drift off next to him. I could feel a part of him stirring against my thigh, but morning sex always leaves me sore before school so I moved away from him.

Oh My God School!

It was 7:00. School started in 30 minutes. I yanked on my clothes from where they were strewn around the room. After wasting five minutes looking for my bra, I gave up and ran out. Thank god I live only a few blocks from D’s house. I caught a middle school student staring at my chest as I ran, so just for fun I lifted up my shirt and flashed him. He literally walked into a tree.

I didn’t have time to stop and laugh, I could see my house. I ran through the back door, up to my bathroom, and turned on the shower. Not waiting for the hot water, I stripped off my dirty clothes and just jumped in. The cold water stung against my skin, but it completely woke me up. I showered quickly then ran to my room and pulled on a lacy G, my favorite skinny jeans, and a low tank top. I stopped and looked in the mirror, shifting my breasts around until the perfect amount of cleavage was showing.

The clock on the wall read 7:20 as I ran down the stairs. My younger sister Corina was almost out the door, and when she saw me she turned and asked, “I missed the bus, can I get a ride with you?”

I stopped and stared at her, “Are those my heels? Who said you could wear my heels?”

Before she could say anything, I said, “Give me my heels back now!”

She started to whine, so I pushed her and said, “Now!”

I groaned as Corina started to cry. I didn’t have time for this. “When I get home, you’re so going to pay for this”

As I ran out the door, I could hear her say, “But what about my ride?”

“Walk. But don’t you dare walk in my good heels! If I find a single scuff, I’m going to hurt you!”

In my car, I finally remembered that I had gotten a text on my phone. I opened my phone and found a message from my best friend Courtnee. I smiled. Courtnee and I had been bff’s since grade school. The message said, “Rents gon 4 wknd, u no wat that mns ;)”

I cheered in the car as I drove down Main Street. Courtnee throws the best parties, her house rocks and her brother in college always gets the best alcohol. I saw some loser walking to school and thought of my sister. I laughed out loud as I pulled into the school parking lot, screeching to a halt in the nearest parking space. The car radio read 7:27. Perfect timing.

I walked into the girl’s bathroom by the gym, where Courtnee was waiting for me, like usual. As we put on our makeup for the day, she said, “That is a rocking top girl, when did you get boobs?”

I laughed and said, “Same time you did” as I poked her well endowed chest. “So what’s up this weekend?”

“My brother is coming down tomorrow night with some of his college friends, and they’re bringing like a truck load of booze. It’s going to rock!”

I lightly penciled on some black eyeliner as she continued, “I’ve invited all the cool kids already. It should be insane.”

“Just make sure no losers show up like last time. That nerd from math class was such a party killer.”

Courtnee put on some gloss and licked her lips before saying, “Yeah, but his friend Saul is soooo hot. I think I saw him looking at me yesterday.”

“Who wasn’t looking at you yesterday? That skirt was positively scandalous, but your panties were cute. Did you get those at Victoria’s?”

“Yep. Three for $75 sale this weekend.”

“Awesome!”

“Right?”

We walked out the bathroom as I said, “Anyways, I heard Saul is with Eve right now.”

“So? She’s cute too, I wouldn’t mind a threesome with those two.”

“Oh you bad girl!”

We laughed as we walked into study hall. To tell the truth, I had thought about Saul quite a bit myself, especially after seeing him with his shirt off at the senior picnic. Those abs sent shivers right down to my girly parts. Sigh.

 

The Best Friend:

I woke up naked wrapped in a blanket in the park like a cold burrito. While this wasn’t the first time this had happened, it’s always a bit shocking at first. At least I had a blanket this time.

I found a note someone had pressed into my hand. After shaking my head a bit, I remembered what had happened last night.

It had been a very good night.

I opened the note as I slowly sat up. It read, ‘Thank you for a great night and an even better lay. Call me. Eve.”

Eve. So that’s what her name was.

What? Don’t judge me.

I promised myself I would definitely call Eve again. That thing she did with her tongue, just thinking about that got the blood flowing to a certain part of my body. Before I could truly enjoy it though, a gruff voice yelled, “Hey!”

I turned to see a middle-aged cop standing by some bushes, shining a flashlight on me. Without even questioning myself, I got up and started running, ditching the blanket. I remembered I had parked my car down the street, by a light pole on the other side of the park. All I had to do was lose the police man.

I turned and was very surprised to see he was close behind me, still yelling incoherently. I ducked through some bushes, scratching myself up a bit but not stopping. I kept running, until I had crossed the park completely. I looked back and saw the cop was still on my tail. Cops are quicker than they look. I turned my head just in time to duck under a low tree branch. The cop wasn’t so lucky.

I jumped into the passenger seat and slid into the driver’s side. My clothes were neatly folded in the back seat. Thank you, Eve. I pulled on my pants and hit the gas. In my rearview mirror I could see the cop staggering to his feet as I rounded the corner, out of sight, out of mind. It was a good morning.

I drove home to change, and as I pulled in, my phone rang. It was Emmy’s friend, Courtnee. Courtnee was very cute; I’d been flirting with her for about a month. Nothing serious, just enough to let her know there was some interest. I was pretty sure she was into me, but with Eve’s overt flirting and last night, I wasn’t going to go after Courtnee. At least, not for now.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Courtnee!”

“How are you doing girl?”

“Great! How bout you?”

“It’s been a very interesting morning, to say the least.”

“I bet. Listen, my parents are going to be gone again this weekend, so I was going to have a little party. You know, nothing big, just a few friends, music, alcohol. If you’re free, you could always come by and check it out.”

Courtnee’s parties were never ‘little’. They were legendary at South Brook High for being the wildest parties in the school. Only the coolest of the cool, the ‘pretty people’ were allowed to go.

“I’ll see what I’m doing. Hey, can I bring a friend?”

“I guess, it’s no biggie.”

She giggled on the phone and something about it made my heart tighten.

“So, the usual time?”

“Yep!”

“I’ll see what I can do. I gotta run, but I’ll catch you in school, okay?”

“Ok, bye!”

With that, Courtnee hung up before I could say goodbye. For a second I found myself wondering what it would be like to be with her, not sexually, but just together. I shrugged it off after I found Eve’s note again. That thing she did with her tongue, dam. Where did she learn that?

After I changed into a fresh pair of boot-cut jeans and a fitted tee shirt, I got back into my car and drove to school. The whole way there, I held onto Eve’s note and remembered last night. It was incredible

 

The Boyfriend:

I woke up to an empty bed. I was angry at first, then I saw it was noon. Emmy must’ve gone to school. Whatever. I needed a beer.

After drinking two cold ones from the fridge, I looked around to see what I needed to do today. There was no milk in the fridge, I probably should get some. More importantly, there were no more condoms. We’d used the last four yesterday.

Dam it was a good night.

I put on an old pair of jeans and a wife beater and then got on my bike. My baby. There was a convenience store a few blocks down where the guy, Fred, sold me cheap rubbers so I went there.

I grabbed a six pack of Bud and a couple boxes of condoms and then went to say high to Fred.

“How you doing today, Fred?” I said as I put my stuff on the counter.

He rang up my stuff and said, “Pretty good D, you know, it looks like rain today, you should probably park your baby inside today. That’ll be $27.67”

I gave him a rumpled twenty and a ten and said, “Thanks for the tip, keep the change.”

“Thanks D. I’ll catch you later,” said Fred as he gave me my bag.

As I turned around, a freshmen student from school bumped into me. Before I could do anything, he had spilled a little cherry slushy on my boots.

My boots.

My good boots.

No one, messes up my good boots.

No One.

The kid tried to stammer out an apology, but I didn’t want to hear it. I grabbed him with both hands, one on his belt and one on his shirt collar. I smiled at his terrified face, then I flipped him over my head into the frozen food case. His upside down body crashed through the glass door, landing in a heap on the Lunchables.

Behind the counter, Fred said, “Shouldn’t have gotten his boots messy. He doesn’t like it when you mess up his boots.”

Before I left, I gave Fred a hundred dollar bill to cover up the damages. Fred was cool about things like this as long as you paid for it. That’s why I only by my rubbers from him. Cause he’s cool like that.