Falling for Romeo (11 page)

“You know, in Tonga,” Mitchell began, and everyone joined him, finishing the sentence in unison,

“when you burp it’s considered a compliment to the chef.”

“This is excellent, Jan,” Maggie said to Janice.

The two mothers sat elbow to elbow on the couch. “As usual.”

At that point, the mothers’ heads huddled together in whispered chatter as did Randy and Mitchell. The sight gave John a sense of relief seeing his father’s face lighten some, even if only temporarily.

Jennifer took another bite. John took another drink.

Gatherings like this had happened since Jennifer could remember. Why then, did she feel like she sat next to a stranger?

In her heart she missed what would have happened after dinner, had they been younger. They would have gone off into the neighborhood somewhere and created an adventure like Indian captives or mountain men.

A smile broke her lips recalling the days they’d played in “huts” they’d created from leftover construction site materials in the lower foothills just outside

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their back doors. Houses sat on the site now, and it was kind of sad.

“Remember when we made those huts?” She was thinking aloud more than instigating a conversation. John nodded. “Yours had to be bigger, of course,” she added, looking at him.

He reached for his breadstick. “You’re just jealous I finished mine first.”

“Because you used the best stuff and gave me the leftovers.”

John’s cheeks bulged as he chewed and grinned.

“Okay, okay, maybe I did that.”

“No maybe about it.”

After he swallowed he said, “Yeah but you were the one with the carpet.”

“It was that putrid barf color.” They both laughed.

“I didn’t know barf putrefied.”

“Well it does.”

Jennifer set aside her plate because she was finished eating, and reminiscing eased the invisible strain between them. “Everybody was so jealous of our huts.

They all wanted in.”

Still chewing the last bit of breadstick, John nodded.

“Remember our initiation ceremony? How we made everybody touch tongues, but nobody wanted to mix blood.”

“Except us.” Jennifer thought then how amazing it was that she carried some of him with her because of that one, childhood ritual. The thought sent a pleasant stirring around her heart.

John put his plate aside and reached for her hand, turning her palm upright. The warmth of his skin sent a k

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tingle up her arm. With his other hand, his finger traced over the short line that some eight years earlier he had cut with his pocket knife. “You still have it.” She pulled her hand away, bringing his eyes to hers.

“Don’t you?” She grabbed his hand, and he willingly opened it for her. In the exact spot where her line was, he had one just like it. Rather than touch the scar, she just looked at the light, straight line remembering that day.

He’d cut himself first, assuring her there was nothing to be afraid of. The other kids sitting around in the hot, make-shift hut were silent as the knife went in and scarlet blood oozed in droplets down John’s palm. He barely made a face of pain and Jennifer knew it was because he was being watched. But she also knew if he could do it, she could do it.

Bravely she set her hand in his. He made the small incision. When her blood sprang forth, she gasped. Then he looked at her with those eyes sparkling like radiant jewels. Slowly, he took her hand and pressed their palms together.

Jennifer couldn’t remember what words he’d mumbled, but she remembered a slight stinging sensation at the site. She remembered he’d looked at her during the chant.

She was still holding his hand as the memory left her, watching her thumb brush absently over his palm. His hand was completely still in hers, and she lifted her eyes to his. The corner of his jaw contracted. His gaze was tight on her face, holding her perfectly still.

“We’d probably better get going,” his voice rasped a little.

Jennifer’s fingers loosened around his palm and he

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withdrew, rubbing his hands together. “We can’t be late,” she grabbed her empty plate and stood. “Chip will kill us.”

John joined her. “He can’t kill us, we’re the stars.”

“John.” His mother was in the kitchen with Maggie, the two women starting to clean up. “You’ll have to catch a ride to rehearsal.”

“Why can’t I take the car?”

“Because you won’t be using it for a few days,” Mitchell interjected, interrupting his conversation with Randy. The scant look of displeasure in his dad’s eyes caused John’s stomach to knot. He knew better than to get into a debate right then, but he hated being left at the mercy of others for transportation. His parents had no idea what that meant for him.

He looked at Jennifer, tilting her head in that know-it-all, have-it-all kind of way she did whenever he was stuck and she was the only one with a rope in sight to pull him out.

“Jenn will take you, won’t you, Jenn?” Maggie pointed out.

Jennifer’s lips curved into a smile that lay halfway between wicked and cute. “Sure, Maggie. I’d be more than happy to.” Jennifer leaned toward him, smile mostly wicked. “But he’ll have to ask me himself.” John set his teeth. “I’ll call somebody else.”

“You’re going to inconvenience someone just so you don’t have to ask me for a ride?”

“Yup.” He took his plate to the kitchen and plunked it on the sink.

“No problem.” She plunked hers down next to his.

“Try Fletcher. He won’t mind coming all the way over to k

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give you a ride.”

“Why don’t you just take him?” Maggie asked.

John was in the middle of friendly fire, and he didn’t want to get blasted. “Fine.”

“Excuse me?” Jennifer tilted her head at him.

What was this game she played at his expense? He didn’t like it, and narrowed his eyes with the promise of revenge. “You heard me.”

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Nine

He’d wait until just the right moment to take out that revenge. They drove to rehearsal listening to the radio because neither agreed on a CD. John thought they liked the same music, but as he browsed through her massive CD collection and noticed the punky pop CDs, it was just another reminder that things between them had changed.

He shut the black leather folder with a sigh and stared out the window. For a moment he debated dropping revenge. He needed a ride home more than he needed to salve his pride with payback.

She parked the car in the student lot. John was relieved no one else was around, though a half a dozen cars sat in the lot.

“You okay?” Jennifer asked. They strolled side-by-side. He was so quiet on the drive over, Jennifer was itchy to know why.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but didn’t look up from the asphalt.

“We might kill everybody with our breath. I have gum, want some?” she asked, hoping to change his mood with a change of subject.

“Yeah.”

She dug in her purse. His silence bothered her enough that her own mood began to droop into k 00

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darkness. Standing at the door of the building she pressed a stick of gum into his open palm. His eyes lifted to hers with something she didn’t understand but caused a pinch in her heart.

The doors to the building swung open. Half a dozen cast members poured out, as if the hall was lit with dozens of fireworks—sparkling, whistling and cracking at once.

Excitement and energy buzzed. The cast focused their attention on John, tugging him into the building amidst a confetti of conversation, laughter and good-natured ribbing.

Jennifer trailed behind, shaking her head. She didn’t like it when the girls hooked their arms in his and hung on him. Even the boys crowded him. It reminded her of when she and John were kids and had watched black ants drag a fly underground.

“Jenn.” Lacey whispered.

Jennifer stood backstage in her most uncomfortable, hottest costume, waiting for her next scene. The entire dress was velvet, like she’d rolled in the thick fabric from neck to ankles.

Lacey’s costume had just a hint of velvet in the bodice. The sleeves were muslin – much cooler than hers.

That annoyed Jennifer, and her tone carried it. “What?”

“You’ll never guess who’s out there.” Lacey’s grin taunted.

Jennifer fanned herself with her hands. She could care less. “Just tell me.”

“Alex Jesperson. And he’s brought half the team.”

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Jennifer’s eyes opened wide. Dashing to the curtain, she peeked through. Sure enough, halfway back in the auditorium sat Alex and what looked like the first string of the Pleasant View football team. “What’s he doing here?”

“I guess he came to watch.” Lacey adjusted her dress, tugging the already low-cut bodice even lower.

Glancing at Lacey’s bulging breasts, Jennifer said,

“Lace, you’re going to pop out of that.”

“That’s my plan. Give a little preview, snag myself a stud. You know?” When Lacey saw Jennifer roll her eyes she added, “Hey, there’s plenty to go around, don’t be a hog.” With that Lacey made her entrance.

Jennifer looked out into the audience. She had a few minutes before she was supposed to be on stage and wondered if she should go say something to Alex.
But
what?
Rachel told her that the kissing stuff was nothing more than sport.

“Your boyfriend here to watch?” There was no jesting in John’s voice—coming from behind her.

Jennifer turned around.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” A dark storm raged in his eyes. He let out a snicker. “What?” she asked, both annoyed and curious.

“That’s not what he’s spreading around.”

“What? What’s he saying?” Grabbing his elbow, she dragged him deep into the curtains. “Tell me.”

“Just that you guys were—had, you know.”

“No, I do not know. Now what exactly is he saying?” The muffled voices of those playing out the scene drifted in the air. He didn’t say anything, just studied her. She smelled peppermint on his breath from the gum she’d k 0

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shared with him earlier.

She tugged again on his sleeve still clutched in her hand. “John, come on, tell me.” Her mind raced with the nasty rumors a guy like Alex Jesperson could release with the ease of blowing his nose.

“I don’t know.” John looked away on a heavy sigh.

“You do and you’re not telling me. Tell me.” His eyes flashed to hers. “Why? You knew what you were doing when you did whatever you did with Alex.” John yanked his sleeve free. He whipped back the black curtain and disappeared into the commotion back stage.

I’m surrounded by jerks, Jennifer thought. But her discomfort was self-inflicted, a result of the night of exploration she’d spent with Alex. John was right, she had to take the consequences, whatever they were. But once rumors were out there, they were as impossible to collect as a flock of wild birds.

She made her way to Alex because she still had a few minutes before the “wedding” scene with John.

Alex sat up eagerly, his eyes sparkled, and she almost forgot why she’d ventured out into the audience.

He was pretty cute. It was easy to remember how he made her feel that night, all vibrant and warm inside.

The rest of the team stared at her with fascination that comes from someone looking completely changed with the masquerade of the theater.

She crawled over bulky bodies filling the seats until she came to Alex and sat in the seat next to him.

“Hey, you look awesome,” he said.

“Thanks”

“Even your costumes are classy. Cool.”

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“Alex, I think we need to talk. Can you stay after the rehearsal?”

“Sure.”

One of the guys behind him cleared his throat. Alex glanced over. “Uh, I don’t think I can stay that long. This is a long play, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“How about we talk now?”

“I’m supposed to be on stage in five minutes.” He leaned over and surprised her with a kiss. The move stunned her. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened.

“As good as I remember,” he said.

Jennifer’s face warmed. She bet her cheeks were pink. A quick glance around and she knew more than just the team had caught the kiss. John stood at the hem of the stage, watching. “What happened between us was just for fun, you know that right?” Alex shrugged then nodded.

“I’d better go,” she told Alex and stood.

“Yeah.” Alex gave her a studly nod. She crawled back over his teammate’s knees, out of the row and into the aisle.

John disappeared behind the curtain, no doubt getting in place for their scene together. Her heart beat like a wild bird was caught in her chest.

Romeo and Juliet snuck to a beautiful, secluded garden to marry. No one knew about it except Friar Lawrence. There they exchanged vows and hoped for a peaceful future.

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Chip placed the three of them near the lip of the stage, in front of the artificial fountain spraying fake water. John and Jennifer were on their knees, face-to-face as Chess Wiessman, playing Friar Lawrence, stood over them, faux bible in his hands.

Chess looked down on the two of them with the approving nod of a Friar.

“A lover may bestride the gossamers that idels in the
wanton summer air, and yet not fall. So light is vanity.”
Jennifer replied,
“Good evening to my ghostly
confessor.”

“Romeo shall thank thee, daughter,”
Chess said,

“for us both.”

Jennifer looked at John, extending her hands with eager joy portraying Juliet’s thrill at finally being united in matrimony to her love.
“As much to him, else in his thanks
too much.”

John took her hands.
“Ah, Juliet, if measure of the
joy be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more to
blazon it, then sweeten they breath this neighbors air, and
let rich music’s tongue unfold the imagined happiness
that both receive in either by this dear encounter.”
He lifted her hands. Though they’d done the move in practice, it caused her thoughts to stumble, leaving her mind blank for a second.

“Conceit,”
she began finally,
“more rich in matter
than in words, brags of his substance, not of ornament.

They are but beggars that count their worth. But my true
love is grown to such excess I cannot sum up sum of half
my wealth.”

Before she could take a breath, John let go of her hands and cupped her face. She froze. Her heart

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fluttered with uncertainty. At her sides, her hands hung awkward, empty, like a bird that couldn’t fly. Slowly, he brought her face to his. Every sound in the auditorium melted to silence. When their lips met, Jennifer heard a soft eruption of whispers and whistles from out in the audience but she soon forgot them.

Peppermint fused with the taste of him, swirling into a heated spark that started at her mouth and sprang to her fingers and toes. Before she knew it, she leaned into him, her whole body wanting more.

When he eased back, his hands still held her face.

It took her a moment to open her eyes, to breathe. She looked at his lips, wet, parted, inches from hers, then lifted her dazed eyes to his. They were sharp, almost hard with something that stole the sweetness roving in her body. She blinked once, twice, as Chess said the last line.

John’s hands drifted downward from her cheeks to her shoulders.

It was a look she knew well, taunting, competitive and vengeful.

She almost slapped him.

Before she could, applause and cheering tore through her thoughts, reminding her she was on stage.

This was dress rehearsal; and she was acting. So was he.

That infuriated her even more. He used the moment, took advantage of her to prove a point, and for what?

The lights blacked out for the scene change.

Usually, John helped her to her feet so they could dart from the stage. This time he just stood, turned, and left.

Chess pulled her up. “When did we add that?” he whispered as the two of them ran offstage.

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like the idiot John was trying to make her out to be. “The other day. Chip thought it might spice things up.” Chess whistled. “Like cayenne pepper.” John stormed from the stage and out into the fluorescent–lit hall. The brief second of pleasure he’d gotten from using her vanished, now that the scene was over. He stopped at the drama room door, sent his palm flat against it in a deafening slap that burned and stung his skin. He was an idiot. She’d hate him now for sure.

The sound of feet rushing after him caused him to whirl around, ready to defend himself. But it was just some of the cast, all grins and awe.

“Dude,” Drake panted, out of breath. “Was that planned or were you just, you know, caught up in the moment?”

“It was planned,” John snapped, quieting the group. They kept their distance as he paced the hall.

“It was hot,” Lacey grinned. “Definitely keep it in.” John stopped, scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Could you guys leave me alone for a second, please?” The little group nodded, mumbled, and begrudgingly left. He heard the door shut and assumed they’d gone, so he let his hands drop.

He didn’t expect to find Jennifer there.

They stood looking at each other for a taut moment. Her hands hung in fists at her sides, her blue eyes brightened with anger. He didn’t care. The vengeful act had been sweet. Seeing her in fight mode now caused any remorse he’d just felt to evaporate.

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He’d talked himself out of doing anything vengeful at all, until he saw that goon Alex and his posse in the auditorium. Then something inside of him popped. It was close to popping again. “What?” he demanded.

She echoed him, “What?”

“What!”

“I can’t believe you did that—in front of all those people!”

“What makes that any different than what you just did with Alex in front of all those people?”

“He kissed me, for your information!”

“I saw that!”

“Then do you need your eyes examined?
He
kissed
me
.”

“I know, I know.” John set anxious hands on his hips for a minute before dragging them down his face again.

“Chip and I thought it would be a good place for it.”

“Oh, and nobody bothered to tell me about it? I don’t believe you for a second. Chip would never leave me out of it.”

John lifted a shoulder. “Ask him.”

“I will. You can bet I will.” Jennifer whirled around and stormed back to the stage door. “And it’s not staying in!”

“
Yes
it is!” He wasn’t sure she heard him—the door slammed shut.

The cast gathered in the center of the set. Chip sat cross-legged in the middle. It was eleven o’clock and the stage stunk of sweat, resurrected costumes and paint.

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Chip referred to his clipboard as he talked about the dress rehearsal, about the upcoming show, and ticket sales.

The weary cast listened, some draped over each other, others prostrate on the hard floor. Jennifer sat opposite John. She was surprised to see him sitting alone, legs crossed, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled at his mouth. His gaze locked on the stage floor.

She figured everyone was waiting for whatever chastisement he would get from Chip after the impromptu kiss, and nobody wanted to be in the line of fire when it came. He hadn’t looked at her since she’d screamed at him in the hall. She still couldn’t believe what he’d done. She couldn’t swallow that she’d bought the moment, enjoyed it even.

Where did these random acts of weirdness
come from?
There was the John everybody at school worshipped. There was the John who was perfect in the eyes of adults. And the John she knew was both of those and something more, something only she was privileged to know. But that didn’t ease the sting of what had happened.

He looked unusually solemn, his dark lashes nearly flat against his cheeks, his mouth set in a line. He took in a deep breath that everyone heard. Indeed, those sitting near him looked over. But his head didn’t come up. He was too deep in something.
What was it?

Her heart softened. She wanted to pinch herself, make it stop. Don’t let this happen, she thought, forcing herself to look at Chip, still talking, only she had no idea about what. Chip’s mouth was moving, his hands expressively painting pictures in the air. But Jennifer’s mind

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and heart drifted back to John with such sweet ease, she found him in her sight again.

Their eyes met.

She should look away, pride demanded it. But something kept her gaze steadily with his, as if she sensed that, even with the impromptu kiss, he was silently sorry.

“And that kiss,” Chip’s words broke through her thoughts. He looked first at John then at her with a proud smile. “That was something else. Great job you two.”

“Does it stay?” They were the first words John had uttered since the cast had been corralled for critique.

He didn’t look at the faces eager for his attention, he focused on Chip.

“I think it should. It’s a great way to end that scene.

Agreed?”

John nodded and lowered his head again.

“Jenn?” Chip looked at her.

They were right. It meant she’d kiss John not once, but twice during the performances. A familiar skittering of pleasure ran along her spine. “Okay.” k 0

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Ten

The drama room reeked. There was no other word for the mixture of body odor, soiled costumes and stale breath. As actors changed out of their costumes Taunia ran from cast member to wardrobe rack and the scent in the room ripened, bodies now exposed in the cloistered air.

“Somebody open a freakin’ window,” Drake called.

Nobody wanted to look like a prude, hovering in a corner while they changed, so modesty was ditched at the door.

Pleasant View High School was characteristically outdated. That meant no male and no female dressing rooms. That meant communal dressing.

John changed, keeping his eyes on his pile of discarded costumes. One stray glance could start a conversation. Worse, somebody would ask him for a ride home and everybody would find out that he didn’t have a car.

Then his life would become a circus.

Everybody was tired so nobody did much talking.

He was glad for that. But he had to keep an eye on Jennifer to make sure she didn’t leave without him. He chanced looking across the room at her.

She always dressed and undressed with her back to everyone. He liked that about her. Lacey and the

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other girls practically changed costumes right under his nose. His mind flashed a picture of Jennifer that night he’d opened the drama room door and found her in her underwear. A hot flush filled him from head to toe as he pulled his shirt over head. He’d never forget the sight.

“Dude, can I catch a ride?” Fletcher zipped up his jeans as he strolled over.

“Can’t tonight. Sorry.”

Though everybody tried not to look over, John knew by the way the room went silent his refusal was overheard. Now everybody wondered why.