*A/N: Okay, so thank you sooo much for the few reviews that I've gotten. Um, I am trying to make the chapters longer, I'm not sure if it's working out too well, though. Moony girl, thanks for the advice. You'll find out more about why the characters are so different. Thing is, they're different from the original characters at this point in the story. Just wait for it. :) Mercutio and Benvolio . . . Well, they're more like friends with Romeo, right? So they'll come into the story later on, when Juliette meets them, since it's in her point of view. Thank you sooo much, though, please keep r/r! :D *
Chapter 2
"Tybalt, they want me to go out with him! To the prom no less!"
I was ranting and raving to my understanding best friend--who, though it was very strange to me, was also Romeo's best friend.
"What?! Why? It's not like he's desperate to go out with you."
"They said that they didn't like us fighting all the time the way we do--and have since forever! They said this is their last resort. That they've tried everything else. And Tybalt, they're sending Paris and his date to make sure we're nice to each other! At our senior prom!"
"Paris that you're in love with, Paris?"
"That's right. Only the hottest, sweetest guy in the world." I heard him snicker. "It's not funny, Tybalt!"
"I know. I'm sorry Jules. Hey, I better let you go, I have another call. Probly Romeo. Gonna have to go through all this again."
"Oh, poor you. Later Tybalt."
"See ya, Jules."
~*~
The next day, Tuesday, at school, instead of arguing constantly, Romeo and I avoided each other completely.
It continued on like that until prom--a month later.
I had gotten my perfect dress the summer before we began the school year. It was two-pieced, and showed about two inches of my stomach. The top was one-shouldered, while the skirt was long enough to reach the floor. It had navy material sewn under sheer black material, and the whole thing sparkled like it had had a thorough sprinkling of fairy dust. I also had clear shoes that looked as if I had stolen them from Cinderella.
I had the perfect prom planned to go with my perfect, beautiful outfit.
Unfortunately, because of that unexpected turn of events, my perfect evening flew straight out the window--or did it?
~*~
The day of the prom I went to have my hair put up in pretty ringlets and my makeup done.
I silently wished, while driving home, that I would have a flat and that I wouldn't get home until too late to go the prom. Or that, maybe, when I got home I'd have a sudden attack of horrible, long-lasting (at least for the night) food poisoning. But I wasn't so lucky.
Later that night, I was just putting my shoes on when I heard the doorbell ring. A sudden wave of nausea hit me.
I heard a chorus of "Hello Romeo" and "You certainly look handsome." I rolled my eyes when I heard their greetings, and, oddly enough, felt slightly envious when he greeted them back good-naturedly.
I slowly walked downstairs, but froze on a middle step when I saw him waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase. I had to admit, he did look gorgeous.
We stared at each other for a few minutes. Then, I turned away from him.
"Well, we'd better get going," I said.
He nodded and politely "helped" me down the remaining stairs by offering his hand--which, of course, I wouldn't have accepted if our parents hadn't been standing there watching us with big, goofy smiles plastered on their faces. You would have thought they were the ones going to the prom!
"Okay, picture time!" my mom sqealed with delight.
Romeo and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Then he smiled at me, that charming, irresistable smile I always had to smile back at.
"Awww . . ." my mom and Mrs. Montague chorused. Our fathers exchanged knowing glances.
"Well, dear, they're going to be late if they don't leave soon," my dad said.
"Trying to get rid of me, huh?" Romeo joked. Our parents laughed, and I smiled in spite of myself.
Romeo looked at his mom and she handed him a pretty corsage--that perfectly matched my dress. *Mom.* I thought, shaking my head slightly while trying to hide my smile.
Romeo turned toward me and looked up nervously, as if he was afraid I'd slap him, or punch him, or . . . just hurt him in general if he tried to pin it on for me.
I smiled in amusement and understanding, and as he brought up his hands, I noticed they were shaking.
When he finally got it pinned, our parents--or, more accurately, or mothers--decided it was time to take pictures so they could send us on our way.
We stood about a foot apart, and they motioned for us to get closer together.
After a few minutes, Romeo whispered, "Let's just pose and get this over with."
I nodded and we got as close as we could. Romeo put his arm around me and we smiled for a few pictures.
"Well, we better get going. Paris and Gaby are probably waiting," I said. I was ready to see Paris in a tux--although I somehow didn't really care about him anymore. I got confused, wondering why I felt so . . . happy with Romeo, and so . . . indifferent . . . about Paris.
