*Disclaimer: Actually, I own the plot. And the characters' personalities and stuff. I don't own the names of the characters or the towns or if I decide to use beloved Mickey D's (My fave BSB, A.J., has had a teeny bit too much influence on me. Heehee.) or whatever. Oh, and I used a thing about "I don't shut up, I grow up, etc" that I heard from an Aaron Carter fan fic called The Tour. Pretty good. That phrase is probly well-known, but nobody usually says stuff like that to me, so that was the first time I heard it. Anyway, y'all are smart enough to know what I own and don't, these are kinda dumb. Well, here goes. Puh-lease r/r?! Thanks y'all. Love ya.

Chapter 1

"Hey! Romeo, you cheater! You can't do that!" I shouted, glaring at the grinning boy standing in front of me.

I say "boy" but Romeo Montague was nearly two years older than my own seventeen.


"Jules, I won fair and square. Now what's my prize?"

I rolled my eyes and pushed him to the ground. He made no attempt at getting back to his feet, just sat there laughing at my annoyance.

"Ya big jerk!" I said, storming away.

He stood and ran to catch up with me. "Aw, Jules, whatsa matter? Gonna go cry to your cousin now? Tybalt?! Tybalt?! Help me, Tybalt, Prince of Cats! He cheated?!" Romeo said, mocking me. "Oh, Tyb--"

"Shut up Romeo! You are so annoying!"

"Ooh, I'm hurt. I don't shut up, I grow up, and when I look at you, I throw up!"

"Oh, that was original, Romeo."

I began to walk back to my house, which was just next door. We had been playing basketball in his driveway when he tripped me, forcing all of my weight to my bad ankle--which was also a result of my immature neighbor.

"Why you limpin', Jules?" he asked, for once being sincere.

"Gee, I wonder. Besides, I'm not limping. I'm just . . . favoring one side."

I got to my front door and just before I got my hand on the doorknob, Romeo opened it for me. I had been counting on supporting my weight on that doorknob to regain my composure, so when he opened the door I fell to the floor inside.

Refusing his hand, I pulled myself back up to a standing position. Before I slammed the door in his smirking face, I said, "Cute, Romeo. Real cute."

As I turned, ready to trudge upstairs to my room, I noticed my parents and Romeo's parents staring at me. My mom gestured to me to join them.

I limped into the living room and sat down on the couch by Mrs. Montague.

"What happened, dear?" she asked me, glancing at my bleeding knee.

I tried not to roll my eyes while I searched my mind for something to say that didn't sound quite so rude as what I would have liked to say.

"Did that son of ours do something to you again?" Mr. Montague asked apologetically.

Apparently, he already knew the answer.

I smiled at Romeo's parents. They were so nice--almost like my second family. I often wondered how they had raised a son like Romeo. Then again, it had often seemed that he was only rude to me.

"No big deal. Not like it hasn't happened before. I'll see you guys later, kay?" I said, already getting to my feet. Like they were gonna say no.

"Actually, Juliette, sweetie . . ." Mrs. Montague began.