Falling for Romeo (6 page)

“’Night, Jenn.”

The locust trees in the front yard shimmied, sending leaves scattering at her feet. She thought, as she walked around the corner of the house and took a deep, cold breath, that there might not ever be another moment like that one. But tomorrow was another day—another rehearsal.

Jennifer didn’t consider herself a moody, depressed soul, yet she didn’t make excuses for her moods—they

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made her a better actress. The euphoric jittering streaming through her was incredibly delicious. Her mind flashed scenes of John last night in the moonlight, climbing up her wall, reciting his lines.
If one night has left
me like this, I’m really hopeless.

She walked down the hall crushed between hundreds of other bodies as students headed toward the gymnasium for an assembly. Her smile electrified her face. She passed the glassed-in offices of the school’s administrators and couldn’t resist a peek at her reflection.

Pretty hot.

To her right, a group of freshman playfully hit each other and one of them rammed into her, sending her sideways. If it was any other day she might have sent them one of her disparaging,
grow up
looks. Today, she ignored the immature expression of friendship.

Nothing could penetrate her perfect day.

“Heard John frenched you at rehearsal the other day.”

Jennifer recognized the deep, honeyed voice of her best friend, Rachel Baxter. Rachel shared Jennifer’s love of theater, as well as their mutual fascination with the male species.

The nasty rumor nearly poked a hole in Jennifer’s effervescent mood. Somebody stepped on her toe. “Hey, watch it!” she snapped. “No, he didn’t. I can’t believe the way rumors get twisted around here.”

“I was so stoked for you.”

Jennifer stopped. “Why should anything John does stoke me?”

“Come on, you’ve had it for John since I first met you.”

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“I have not.” For a moment, the crowd stopped, stuck in the door of the gym like a plug, and Jennifer choked on the smothering closeness. In reality, the choking sensation had more to do with what Rachel said than the bodies pressing into her.

Rachel looked at her with a raised brow. The body-jam wasn’t budging. Somebody behind them had eaten onions for lunch. A boy to their left was chewing gum, it clacked and popped in Jennifer’s ear. The worst was the kid in front of them whose neck blistered with juicy acne.

Jennifer grimaced.

“So.” Rachel leaned close. “Word is he stinks.” Guilt rushed Jennifer all over again. After last night, she had to send another piece out into the web of school gossip to correct what she’d sent out about the kiss. “I never said that – exactly.”

They pushed through the doors. Zit-boy still remained in front of them and Rachel took Jennifer by the arm and led her away. “Then what was it like?” For a second, Jennifer thought of confiding in her best friend. “It was…”

“Rachel! Jenn!” Spencer’s tall, rangy form shot up from the crowds filing onto the bleachers. The basketball player was hard to miss. “Seats.” He gestured to his sides where his friends, some of whom were considered the hottest at school, sat hunched over, elbows coolly set on their knees, requisite boredom on their faces.

Jennifer and Rachel made their way to the coveted spots, wiggling in between Cort Davies and Alex Jesperson, both who played first string for the Pleasant View Vikings football team.

“Hey guys.” Jennifer flipped her blonde hair over her

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shoulder with a flirty smile. Rachel squeezed in between Cort and Spencer. “This topic is not closed,” she told her.

“What topic?” Spencer leaned nosily over Rachel’s lap. Used to being pawned over, Rachel simply sat back to allow for better conversing for all of Spencer’s friends now casually perked to attention, their athletic bodies flexing as they turned in their seats.

Jennifer shot Rachel a silencing look, but surrounded by adoring guys, Rachel missed it completely.

“I heard you got on John Michaels,” Spencer said.

This rumor seems to have a life of its own, Jennifer thought with disgusted fascination. Five seconds ago, she’d been frenched by John.

Spencer tried being cool by not staring as he waited for her reply. Jennifer didn’t know what to say, and was relieved when Principal Ackerman cleared his throat into the microphone. All eyes turned toward the floor of the gym, including Spencer’s.

“We’d like to welcome our student body to the assembly. The last few months of school are going to be the best months. Not that the preceding months has been bad—but, well—” Principal Ackerman cleared his throat again, shoving wire glasses up his nose. “We intend to send our seniors out with a bang.” Applause roared through the room. All around her boys high-fived each other. Jennifer looked for John’s dark hair.

“Some of our end-of-the-year activities I want to remind you of are the upcoming Save Our Water fundraiser. It’s a waterless carwash sponsored by the Ecology club. It will be this Friday in the parking lot of the Purple Turtle, so everybody bring your vehicles down.” k 0

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“How do you wash a car without water?” Spencer mumbled. “I got bird crap on my hood that’s, like, petrified.”

Alex slugged Cort’s deltoid. “I’ve seen this before, dude. They use spit. I swear.”

“Seriously?”

“In three weeks,” Principal Ackerman continued, again pushing his walnut-sized gold specs up. “We have our drama department’s production of Romeo and Juliet.” The entire room erupted into cat calls, screeching howls and whistles, rattling Jennifer’s bones.

“I’ve heard it’s going to be a great show.” Principal Ackerman smiled up at her. “There’s our girl. Jennifer Vienvu is Juliet.” He let the applause die down before he continued. “And John…where’s John Michaels? Ah.

There he is. John plays Romeo.” Nothing compared to the thunderous noise that rocked the inside of the building after John’s name was spoken. As if the walls themselves strained to bow.

When John appeared down on the floor, every foot pounded into the bleachers. The chant of his name began. Jennifer hadn’t seen him when they took their seats. She figured he was hiding off to the side of the bleachers just waiting for this moment. Over the rioting noise, guys and girls shouted to him.

“We love you John!”

“You’re a sexy beast!”

“You rock, John!”

“Dude!”

John emerged with both hands clasped humbly and a grin on his face. He stood next to Principal Ackerman, himself caught in applause.
Jeez, what is this,

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the John Michaels show?

Jennifer stopped clapping.

Principal Ackerman slid an arm around John’s shoulder. “You can stay right here, John.” Again the room screeched.

Jennifer sat upright. Did John
have
to look so adorably uncomfortable?

Nonchalantly, she glanced around. Most of the girls leaned forward as if at any moment they might spring from the bleachers and land at John’s feet. She rolled her eyes.

“Thanks to our student body president.” Principal Ackerman waved up the petite form of Ashley Torsau who’d hidden wherever John had hidden. Politely, John stepped aside. Ashley crossed the floor to the podium and Principal Ackerman. John’s respectful acknowledgement of Ashley engaged the entire audience in another round of applause though this one much less enthusiastic. Jennifer felt bad for Ashley.

Though she was well liked and well known, indeed those qualities had gotten her elected as student body president she couldn’t hold a candle to John. She knew it and so did every body else.

And then there was John. John Michaels who ran for student body vice president on a whim, without even pinning up one poster or handing out a flyer to garner the winning votes that put him in office.

“Thanks to Ashley and John and the rest of student council, we have a surprise for the student body.” Principal Ackerman let the silence bubble for a minute.

“These two have single-handedly found a sponsor who will quadruple the proceeds earned from the play so the k

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school can purchase new seats for the auditorium with the funds.”

Again the room erupted into applause. Jennifer kept her narrowed eyes on John. He bowed his dark head of hair. He looked so angelic with those downcast lashes she almost puked. He wore humility well, she thought wryly. He wore everything well.

“You guys rock!” somebody shouted.

Principal Ackerman held his hand up to quiet the crowd. “We could use new seats. This means we need to have the biggest attendance to the play in the school’s history. Come, and bring everyone you know. And then come again.”

Reality hit Jennifer like a slap in the face. Everyone in this room would see her and John kiss. She sat perfectly still. Around her, students broke out into laughter and talk.

She tried to swallow the knot in her throat, but it remained lodged there. The joke was on her. Her inexperience would be as obvious as the lie she started out of spite.

Rachel leaned close. “You’re going to be in the spotlight, hon.”

Jennifer watched John. Her heart floundered in fear.

I’ll bet John could care less that the whole world is going
to watch us. He’s probably glad, knowing I’ll look stupid.

He looked out over the audience and she shrunk from his sweeping gaze. Normally, she took every opportunity to show herself in a desirable situation. Here she sat, surrounded by some of the hottest guys in school.

The perfect op.

She turned to Spencer and Hugh, Alex and Cort.

The boys’ boredom instantly perked to interest when she flashed a smile. “Which one of you guys is the best

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kisser?”

Five

Kissing lessons. Who’d have thought?

Jennifer shook now as she walked the long hall to the stage after her chat with Alex Jesperson. When she posed the question of who was the best kisser, it didn’t surprise her that all of the guys’ hands had gone up. But it was Alex who won the coin toss. Spencer insisted on a toss for fairness.

Kissing lessons, coin tosses. Absurd. Jennifer almost laughed, but she shook too hard. It was pretty bad when you only locked lips because you were playing a character in a play. It was worse to
ask
someone to teach you how to kiss.

She opened the door to the drama room and found it empty.

Everybody was already onstage. She checked her watch. She loved the pink band with the fake diamonds surrounding the pearly face but she hated that the dumb thing was slow. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and she knew Chip knew it, too.

Piles of clothes were strewn everywhere. She remembered Chip mentioning they might try out costumes next rehearsal. She looked around for hers.

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long dresses. A big, white piece of paper was pinned to the sleeve of a purple gown with gauzy sleeves.

Jenn,

This is the dress you should put on first. If you’re
reading this note, you’re late.

Chip

Jennifer crunched the note between nervous hands and pulled the dress from the hanger. It was dense as a wool blanket. She started to undress, carefully making a pile of clothes on the nearest chair. The room was oddly empty sounding for a place usually pulsing with energy.

She caught the heavy scent of rancid body odor in the dress as she unzipped it.

Suddenly the door swung open. One hand flew to cover her bra, the other to cover her panties and she screeched.

John.

“I’m in here!” She reached for the dress, knocking the pile of clothes and the purple costume to the floor.

“Jenn? Sorry.”

John shut the door. Furious, embarrassed, she yanked the dress on. “Can’t you knock first?” she screamed.

Both sleeves slid up her arms and she wriggled into the bodice, realizing the garment was cut low, that it left her breasts looking like halves of white peaches. She also realized that there was no way her arms were going to

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suddenly lengthen, enabling her to zip the back up. She let out sigh.

Lifting the heavy skirts with one hand, she crossed to the mirror. Her eyes widened.
There is no way I am going
to wear this thing.

I look like a wench.

Turning, she took in the whole dress. It was flattering enough, if big skirts and full hips was what you liked.

It’s a costume, get over it.

Still, every time she faced the mirror her eyes went directly to her chest. The way the bodice snugged created a deep line between her breasts she’d never had there before. She stared, fascinated. It looked…

feminine. It looked—dared she think the word—tempting.

She’d have to be careful when she bent over or she’d show the audience more than her acting talent during the play.

What will John think of the dress? Will he think I
look…tempting
? A pleasant shudder wove through her.

There was no time to look for the shoes Taunia had set aside. Barefoot, she lifted the long skirts and ran out the door.

The stage still smelled faintly of paint, though the scent muddled in the mustiness of the costumes everyone was wore. She heard dialogue from one of the scenes and flew through the wings then remembered that her backside was exposed. She hoped her bra was clean.

Was she wearing the pink one or the one with the turquoise and red flowers?

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“Hey.” John’s whisper. He was nearly hidden in the long black drapes hanging randomly backstage.