Why I Hate Romeo and Juliet

Why I Hate Romeo and Juliet - Chapter Thirty-Six

Oh my GOSH! I just couldn't help myself! I love you too much!

A bunch of you voted and commented all at once, and I was just so freakin' happy, I uploaded as fast as I could. Which, I'm proud to say, was in the same day!

Of course, I had half of this chapter written before. The rest was hastily written, but I'm pleased. :)

And if you think this is 'OHMYGOSH!' then you will just love the next chapter...

-jennaxx :)

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Shut up,” Jane scowled at me, fixing my hair. “You look hot.”

Somehow, the girl had managed to invite herself over to my house, and even more impressively, she got me to sit down long enough to do my hair. Apparently, a pony tail wasn’t acceptable for such an occasion.

Even worse was the fact that she’d demanded for me to wear the dress before she began on my hair, so it wouldn’t mess up. Jane didn’t stop to think that I was uncomfortable as hell, and she’d only noticed after my incessant swearing and fidgeting.

“I fucking hate this,” I grimaced at her as she finished the tendrils around my face. My straight hair wasn’t good enough, I’d been informed, and curls were more ‘elegant.’

“Shut up,” she repeated, fixing the curling iron to just behind my ear.

“Ouch! You burnt me!”

“Sorry,” Jane sang unconvincingly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Bitch,” I mumbled under my breath before taking a sharp inhale. “I swear to god, Jane, if you don’t quit burning me, I’ll haul your ass to China and sell you to a farmer.”

Jane stepped back and gave me an incredulous look. “What?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Are you done yet?”

She groaned and pulled the plug on the curling iron. “I am now,” she gave me an icy look. Soon after, that expression faded as her eyes softened and her lips curled up to a proud smile. “Oh, Hazel. You’re so pretty! Are you sure you don’t want to lose the undies?”

“No!” I hissed, standing up and fixing the top of the dress. “Shut up Jane!” I swatted at her as she raised her eyebrows in an, ‘are you sure,’ motion. “Damn,” I mumbled under my breath. “And I thought I was the bad influence on you…”

“Where are your shoes?” Jane asked, looking at the bottom of my closet, not hearing me.

“Downstairs,” I made a sour face. And just while I was savoring the carpet beneath my toes, she’d brought up the atrocious heels.

“Well come on then!” Jane was out of my room, hustling down the stairs in no time.

I followed at my leisurely pace, not particularly psyched to be wearing three-inches of doom soon. When I got down to the bottom step, Trish was out of my kitchen, where she’d made herself a quick sandwich, and standing beside Jane with glossy eyes. “Hazel! You’re so cute!”

And though there was a distinct humor behind her calling me cute, I let it go. “I don’t know why you made me get this,” I glared at her. “I’m boob-less, and now the whole world will know.”