Not Exactly Romeo and Juliet

I was home alone on that day. I was sneaking popcorn and watching tv, giggling about how cute the actors looked to myself. I had reached down and grabbed my phone, about to call my best friend Sarah and tell her to come over and watch the Teen Wolf reruns with me, but something stopped me. A soft thud captured my attention. I listened carefully again. A few seconds later I heard another thud. My eyes landed on the window. I debated between getting up to check it out or staying on my very comfortable bed and pretending I couldn't hear it. I stared distractedly at the screen, but another thud made me look to the window again. I looked between it and Dylan O'Brien, who was currently on the screen, and debated in my head. Reluctantly, I got up and groaned. I zombie walked to the window and opened the blinds. Then, I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
There, standing in my back yard, was Thomas Brodie-Sangster, holding a handful of pebbles and staring desperately up at me.