This is not about Juliet

The name is Lorenzo, Lorenzo Montague

23/08
I don't know what my grandfather was thinking when he said, "Let's throw a birthday party for my probably least favorite grandchild, who also doesn't like people and would rather be up in his room doing literally anything else." Okay, he didn't say it like that, but that's probably what he thought. Socializing, awesome. Not. Thanks a lot, Granddad.

The doorbell rang, and I knew i had to open, i got up, silently sighing. But my Granddad got there before, that's strange, that means he must've ran. He never ran, when my sister broke her leg he didn't run to her. What? The door opened, revealing a group of people my age. Great. Note the sarcasm. I started smiling and pretending I knew these people. I was supposed to. They probably went to my school. I never really paid much attention to my surroundings, and I only really had one friend, Caelum Kumar - Woodfern. They really were the only minor I ever talked to at school. I would say teenager or child, but my sports teacher, Mr. Binding was as emotionally mature as a six year old. And on top of that, he thought he was funny. He was just as funny as a plain window. He was like minus 3000000000000000 funny. But that didn't matter.

My Granddad directed all his attention to a white-haired girl at the front of the group. He spread his weird arms and hugged her. "Ah, Carla, I'm so happy you could make it so soon after your flight." Of course, Carla Bianchi, her family fled London amidst the storm of a lifetime. And now she's back. Maybe this year will be fun after all. She hasn't changed one bit. Her white hair still reached the back of her knees, I thought. Now, it was a little shorter because it was up in an intricate braid. She was wearing a pastel yellow dress with spaghetti straps. How had the magazines described her, "made of honey and pearls"? Yes, I think that was it. That was painfully obvious now. Her teeth were so white they sparkled, and she looked so sweet and harmless.

I took a step back to let them in after my Granddad did the same. I only recognized Carla. Love her, or hate her for running. They're both in her favor. When you love her, she's always in your heart, and if you hate her, she's always on your mind. Or something. I don't know, that Shakespeare man said it. Basically, no publicity is bad publicity. But fancy. I'm pretty sure it's a pseudonym, Shakespeare. He would've stopped if it wasn't. Writing in the tabloids about so many powerful people could cost him his head.

I led Carla and her friends outside to where the main party was happening. If Granddad invited them and i didn't network, I'd surely be grounded, and i needed to go to the bookstore tomorrow. My favorite author was releasing a new book. Carla came to a stop right in front of me. She twirled a strand of her white hair that had come loose. "Hi, Lorenzo, right?" She asked. As if she didn't know that, she was at my idiocratic birthday party. Her friends stopped next to her. "These are Louise-Thèrese Marais and João Caldeira," she continued. "Hi." I silently hoped they would leave. Caelum was getting drinks for us over at the drinks table. I looked at him, subtly nodding to the alcohol. I felt like I was gonna need it.

After Caelum came back with our drinks, we talked with the little group for most of the night. Well, it was mostly Carla, who was flirting, I think? Whatever, she was pretty, but she wasn't my type. She seemed shallow, probably wasn't, just conditioned to behave like that by her awful parents. They tried to set their 19 year old son up with a minor. A 14 year old. Gross.

"I was told you still liked books," she said. I suddenly noticed the package she was holding. It had red wrapping paper around it. "OH, thanks," I said. Many people  had gifted me books tonight. I doubted this one would be special. I opened it and found the book I had wanted to buy tomorrow. The silver children, a thriller by my favorite author. My mouth fell open. Where did she find this? The book was to be unveiled tomorrow at the city mall. "OH my," I said, "thank you so much, I don't know what to say. Where did you find this?"The bookstore at the Bloomvale mall." Of course. The Bloomvale mall was largely owned by Giuseppe Capulet. Of course, he and his shady business had found some way to get the book there first. I kept thanking her throughout the entire night. That avoided so much social contact. And it was signed as well. Awesome.

After the book, the conversation consisted of me speaking a little more. And slowly but surely, each of our respective friends went someplace else. That's when I realized my mistake. This was the plan all along. Stupid. Of course.

Granddad hosts a party he knows I won't like. He ensures that I see him open the door and call Carla by her name, so I realize she's important. And I take her and her friends out into the garden. She converses, and when she realizes conversation is slowing, she pulls out the gift of a lifetime. Taking me by storm. Our friends slowly drift off, and I'm alone with her. Of course. In three weeks we'll be expected to be together, I wonder what our story will be. Fell head over heels after being apart so long. Was I in love with her since we met and heartbroken when she left. It will most certainly cover up what happened last summer. Tristan kind of looks like her. With his hair bleached. Of course. He was just a distraction because I missed her too much. Of course.