Cliché

chapter 28. getting ju-lit with romeo the bad boy

The lights dim. The curtain lifts. The scene begins.

"Two households, both alike in dignity..."

"Stop laughing," Evan grumbles. He flushes in embarrassment, a strange sight on his face, as I screech in laughter. I admit, I may be overdoing it, my fist banging the table and my eyes glossing over with tears, but how can I not laugh at Evan in maroon velvet puffed sleeves and uncomfortably tight tights?

"I'm going to ruin my makeup," I sniffle, hints of giggles still plaguing my voice. I carefully wipe at my eye with my finger so as not to damage the hours Brie spent meticulously painting my face.

Evan draws his knees up to his chest and starts unintelligibly cursing at me under his breath, only making me laugh harder. With the utmost discretion, I type in the password to his phone (which I know from 'accidentally' spying over his shoulder one time), take a video of him, and post it on his instagram story for his 125k followers to see.

The drama teacher bursts into the dressing room door then, panic apparent as she yells, "Evan! You're supposed to be on stage!"

"How about Iris?" He points accusingly. Always pinning the blame on me.

"I don't appear until Act 1 Scene 3. Did you really not read the script?" His stupidity never fails to surprise me. With a polite smile, I tell the teacher, "We're waiting until Act 1 Scene 5."

"The kiss scene," Evan clarifies.

"Act 1 Scene 5 is happening now!"

She pulls us up by our arms and rushes us backstage, where stage hands are running around carrying random props that don't even seem as if they're part of the play. Unceremoniously, we're pushed through one of the wings and onto the stage, where glimmering chandeliers and characters holding wine glasses are purposefully positioned. The spotlight is blinding, but when I squint hard enough, I can make out Brie and Brandon sitting in the second row, smiling wide at us.

When I turn back to Evan, his expression is that of a permanent grimace, as if he's a middle schooler that's been forced into taking drama by his mother. I barely hold back the laughter threatening to burst past my lips. Acting.

I wander the stage, interacting with random background characters as other random background characters recite the only lines the author has for them in this world. Then, to my surprise, I hear Evan perfectly project, "What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?"

A servant says, "I know not, sir."

Then Evan goes on to recite a whole ass monologue. I blink. I never knew he had that much space in his head.

As he finishes, stepping off to the side as Tybalt and Capulet take over, he has the absolute audacity to wink at me. A disgusted wince surfaces on my face for a moment, before I reign it into the serene starry eyes of Juliet. But the internal cogs of my head turn, and I realize: this is a scene.

And that is the Bad Boy.

"You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed?"

I had marked that line as the point at which I needed to snap back into focus, already having known I would zone out. The kiss scene is coming up.

Shit. The kiss scene is coming up.

The Bad Boy saunters up to me, now in center stage, and gently takes my hand in his. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."