The Secrets That We Keep

Who's That Girl?

Romeo:

I observe her walking away, her cheeks turning the same shade as a tomato. Maybe she's obsessed with me? She wouldn't be the first. I laughed off my thoughts, as my friend Maxwell playfully hopped onto my back, his mischievous grin stretching from ear to ear.
"Romeo, oh Romeo, where art thou Romeo?" he melodramatically whispered in my ear, his voice filled with playful teasing.
I couldn't help but chuckle at his theatrics, even though it was a load of shit.
"Dude, shut the fuck up." I groaned, pushing him off my back with a playful shove.
Just as I was trying to regain my composure, my friend Blake appeared, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.
With a knowing smirk on his face, he chimed in, "You know, it's pretty damn funny that we have a Romeo AND Juliet in our class."
His comment caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh. The coincidence was too amusing to ignore.

Maxwell couldn't help but continue on, "She's got an impressive rack though."
And just like that, Blake leaned over and gave him a good whack on the arm.
"Dude, seriously?" Blake warned him, clearly not amused.
Blake and Maxwell are like night and day, complete opposites. Blake was raised with good values and respect, while Maxwell, well, let's just say his upbringing was a bit different. If you met Maxwell's dad, you'd understand why he can be a bit... let's say, unconventional. Maxwell let out a sigh and defended himself, "Oh, come on, they were RIGHT there, impossible to ignore!"
But all he got in return was a glare of disgust from Blake.

Blake shifted his attention away and focused back on me.
"So, what did your Juliet want from you?" he asked, a small snicker escaping his lips.
I knew it was only a matter of time before he joined in on the joke.
"Nothing," I replied dryly, continuing my walk down the halls.
Maxwell and Blake exchanged confused glances before rushing to catch up with me.
"Oh, come on, tell us," Maxwell pleaded.
I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him with a blank expression.
"If you ever need help talking to girls, just ask," I comforted him, placing my hand on his shoulder.
He rolled his eyes and playfully pushed me away. We laughed together as we left the building, heading towards the courtyard. Maxwell and Blake went their separate ways, leaving the school grounds. I however walked straight ahead, where a car was already waiting for my arrival. The door opened, and I climbed inside to be met with my mother's distracted gaze.

"Hey, Mom?" I called out, trying to grab her attention.
She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on a crowd of people.
"Is there a fight?" I asked, leaning back in my seat.
"Not exactly," she replied vaguely.
Then she turned to me and asked, "Who's that girl?"
I let out a sigh and turned my head to see who she was referring to.
"Which one? There are like twenty of them over there," I pointed out.
Her finger pressed against the window. "That one... with the tight shirt," she muttered.
I looked again and realized it was Juliet. I rolled my eyes and sank back into my seat.
"I don't know. I just know her name is Juliet," I answered.
There was a moment of silence in the car, until my sister finally showed up. She tossed her bag into the car without a care, so much so, it ended up on my lap.
"Don't talk to me, don't look at me, and don't... breathe near me," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
That was enough to catch my mother's attention. "Rosalie, nice of you to join us... late," Mother scolded.
"It's not MY fault!" Rosalie yelled.
I couldn't help but ask, "Then whose fault is it?"
Rosalie's eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the evil brewing within her. There aren't many things that scare me in life, but my sister happens to be on that short list.

My mom, being the usual mediator in our squabbles, seemed preoccupied this time. Her gaze shifted away from us and fixated on Juliet, who was patiently waiting for the bus. The engine started, and our car slowly pulled away from the building, giving me a chance to observe Juliet closely. As the car rolled in right beside her, my eyes locked onto her through the window, and it felt like she had some uncanny ability to sense my gaze. In response, she turned her head, meeting my stare with her own. My mom's sudden interest in Juliet only fueled my curiosity. Who was she? How did my mom know her? These questions swirled in my mind, eager for answers that remained elusive. It was as if Juliet held a secret, a mysterious link between her and my mom that I was determined to uncover. It was a puzzle waiting to be solved, and I couldn't help but feel drawn into the game.