“Really?” I say, brightening. “Hey. You tried your best.”
“That’s the thing—Ihaven’t.I really think I can still turn this around. I just need another chance. She won’t turn me down if we go on another double date.”
“You want to go out with Delilah and me?”
“Yeah,” Chris says. “You guys are the perfect couple. Maybe it’ll rub off on her.”
The perfect couple,I think.Ha.
“So whaddya say?” Chris asks. “Minigolf? Today? After school?”
The last thing I want to do is watch this guy put his hands all over Jules again. But the first thing I want to do is spend more time with her.
“Can’t wait,” I tell him.
If it were the only activity left in the universe, I still wouldn’t join the drama club. I lurk near the door, hoping I won’t be noticed, but Ms. Pingree sees me and waves me forward with a beaming smile. “Ah, it’s our Romeo,” she trills. “Don’t be shy, Edgar!”
There is a gaggle of girls sitting in a semicircle on the stage; when I step into the light, they twitter like a brood of chicks.One girl sits off to the side, staring at her iPhone. When she glances at me, I smile, and I’m pretty sure she bares her teeth in response.
“As I was saying,” Ms. Pingree continues, “this is the most iconic scene in the play. What I’d like you all to channel is that moment you looked at a significant other and truly believed in love at first sight. The minute you felt that the universe had been working all this time to bring you two together . . .”
Uncomfortably I realize that every girl on that stage is staring at me as if I am food and she is starving. Suddenly I remember James’s dream.
If this is what it’s like to be a heartthrob, I think I preferred being anonymous.
“All right, let’s get to it.” Ms. Pingree hands out our scripts. “Romeo? Juliet? Center stage.”
Awkwardly I move into position, waiting alone in a circle of light. “Allie?” Ms. Pingree says. “There’s no Facebook in fair Verona.”
The mean girl gets to her feet. She comes closer, so close that I can see the sparkles flecked in her lip gloss. As soon as the teacher turns away, she stomps on my foot.
“Ouch!” I yelp.
“Sorry. I was aiming . . . higher.”
What did Oliver do to piss her off so badly?
“Any time you’re ready,” Ms. Pingree says.
I look at Allie and offer her a half smile as a truce. “I should warn you, I kind of suck at this.”
She narrows her eyes. “Whatdon’tyou suck at?”
Ms. Pingree clears her throat. “Now, remember, you two—you are inloooove.You lay eyes on each other and the stars collide! You complete each other!”
I pick up my script and stumble through Romeo’s lines. “Uh . . . ‘Lady. By yonder blessed moon I swear / That tips with silver all these fruit-tree trops’ . . . I mean, tops . . .” I glance up. “Who wrote this crap, anyway?”
Ms. Pingree’s face falls. “TheBard,” she whispers.
Allie snaps her gum. “ ‘O, swear not by the moon,’ ” she says flatly, “ ‘the unconstant moon . . .’ ”
“Inconstant,” Ms. Pingree corrects her. “As in something that’s changeable. What Juliet is worried about is that Romeo’s love might be fickle.”
“Reeeealllly,”Allie says, raising a brow. “Probably Juliet thought that he was going to kiss her and then humiliate her in the cafeteria in front of half the school.”
Ms. Pingree frowns. “That might be a stretch, but if it helps you get into character . . .”
Allie shoves me with both hands: I stumble backward as she shouts her next lines into my face. “ ‘. . . that monthly changes in her circled orb, / Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.’ ”
