Romeo & What's Her Name

by Shani Petroff

  “My remedy is then, to pluck it out,” he replied.

  “Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.” Maybe this acting thing wasn’t so hard after all. I just had to let my annoyance with Wes shine through. Maybe I wouldn’t have hated Shakespeare so much if they had given me his snarky stuff first. Clearly, romance was not my strong suit.

  I could feel Wes’s eyes on me. “Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.” How was he not staring down at the paper the whole time? Fine. Two could play at that game. My next lines were short, I could look him right in the eyes as I said them, too.

  “In his tongue.”

  “Whose tongue?” he answered.

  Was I really talking about Wes’s tongue? Crap. I just looked at his lips. Back to his eyes, back to his eyes.

  “Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell,” I said, and even threw in a little wave.

  “What, with my tongue in your tail?” he said.

  Whoa! Tongue in my tail? What were we reading? Was my face red? I hoped I wasn’t red. Mrs. Heller’s class should be renamed The Joys of Embarrassing Emily.

  “Nay, come again, good Kate; I am a gentleman,” Wes continued. Why was he so calm? Because he doesn’t like you, Emily. It’s just lines to him.

  “That I’ll try,” I recited. The stage direction said “she strikes him,” but I couldn’t really hit him. Yeah, I was mad at him, but he was still Wes. Instead, I pretended. I pulled my hand back as if I were going in for a hard slap, but then I just softly cupped his cheek.

  I finally understood that Romeo line where he was dreaming of being Juliet’s hand so he could touch her face. Being that close to Wes was nice, really nice. His eyes caught mine, and I was sure I felt something spark between us.

  Then he placed his hand over mine, and I felt like one of those cartoon characters whose hearts beat a foot out of their chests.

  “I swear I’ll cuff you, if you strike again,” he said, and moved my hand away.

  Right. He was just acting. There was no spark. He was with Amanda. So much for being over him.

  This time I kept my eyes solely on the paper. My emotions were too jumbled to look at Wes again. “So may you lose your arms: If you strike me, you are no gentleman; and if no gentleman, why then no arms.”

  “Great job,” Mrs. Heller said. “Let’s stop there. Let’s give our actors a round of applause.”

  This time I didn’t give a big bow or make a production, I just rushed back to my seat so I didn’t have to stand next to Wes a second longer.

  I scanned the part of the scene that we didn’t get to. Petruchio actually picks Kate up and tries to carry her off. I wondered if Wes would have tried that. My body would have been pressed up against his. I’d get to feel him close to me. My arms wrapped around him. Stop it, Emily. You don’t like Wes. It’s over with. Maybe if I told myself that enough, it would be true.

  I barely heard any of the other performances, my mind kept drifting back where it shouldn’t have been. I tried to concentrate on Cody giving his Hamlet soliloquy, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was relieved when the bell finally rang. It meant I got to go home and put this whole day behind me.

  I shoved my things into my bag and raced for the door, but I wasn’t fast enough. “Emily, wait up.”

  It was Wes. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? Did he want to torture me, rub it in my face that he liked Amanda?

  “What?” I asked him.

  “Can we talk? About earlier.”

  I kicked an imaginary scuff mark on the floor. I wasn’t sure what he meant. Did he notice how visibly shaken I was when I found out he was going to the dance with Amanda? I decided to just play it breezy. “Everything’s good.”

  “And us?” he asked.

  “What about us?” The last I checked, there wasn’t an us. There was an Amanda and him.

  “Are we okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” I asked, and tried to smile. It felt fake, but it was all I could muster. I probably looked like the Joker from Batman.

  “‘Kay, just checking. Wouldn’t want to lose my friend.”

  The freaking f-word. Yeah, Wes, I get it. You’re not into me. I’m just your friend. You don’t need to remind me.

  “We’re fine,” I lied. I needed to get away from this conversation. I scanned the room. Standing right outside the door was Cody. I had to make a split-second decision. It was a no-brainer. I knew what I had to do. “Wes, I’m sorry, I have to run.” Then I called out to Cody and told him to wait up.

  “Glad you’re still here,” I told him, making sure to speak extraloud so Wes could hear the whole thing. I wanted to make sure my friend 100 percent understood that I didn’t care whether he had feelings for me. I was now crushing on the most popular guy at school, at least that’s what I needed Wes to believe.

  “Your Hamlet was really good,” I told Cody, making sure to put my hand on his arm as we spoke. “You could totally be an actor. Seriously. You have the look for it, too.” Were these words really coming out of my mouth? Puke. I certainly hoped Wes was paying attention, because the groupie flattery I was spewing was going to make me sick.

  “Yeah,” Cody said, and flexed his bicep. “I’ve thought about modeling.”

  “You should do it.” My hand was still on his arm. It was starting to get weird, but I couldn’t take it away. Wes was still inside the classroom. I wasn’t sure if he saw it.

  “Don’t know if I have time with football and everything.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Wes finally exited the room and walked by us.

  “You’re such an amazing player, Cody,” I gushed. “You wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. I love watching you on the field.”

  “Can’t blame you,” he said.

  That would have been cute if he had been saying it to be funny. But I was pretty sure he meant it. Cody thought there was nothing better in life than Cody. By this point, I was confident Wes was out of earshot, which meant I didn’t need to keep up the act anymore. Operation Pretend Flirt could take a rest. I dropped my hand and the supersickly sweet voice I was using. “All right. Bye, Cody.” I turned and walked away.

  “Wait, that’s it?” he called after me.

  “For now.” It was a safe bet I’d turn the charm back on the next time Wes was around us. Cody looked half-confused, half-intrigued. Then it dawned on me. Cody Burns wasn’t used to being dismissed by anyone. Except for with Amanda, he was the one who walked away first. But that was part of why I’d never really like someone like him. I didn’t want games. I didn’t want someone who thought everyone should cater to him. I wanted the nice guy. The cute, kind one who visited people in the hospital when they were sick and gave you a ride home when you were stuck at rehearsals late at night and didn’t make you feel like a fool even when you acted like one. But that guy was no longer a possibility. My brain knew that. Now I just needed my heart to get the message.

  23

  The rest of the week proved to be a test of my patience and temper—basically it was a week of misery.

  On the upside, I had been fairly successful at avoiding Wes. Sure, it meant sometimes turning around and walking in the opposite direction, hiding out until I was certain he was gone, and ducking into bathrooms, but it worked. I really only saw him in English.

  We didn’t speak in class, though. I always got there early enough to grab the seat in front of Cody, and I devoted all my attention to him. He may have thought I was crazy. Or maybe just two different people. In English class, I was all about him. I was flirty and chatty, and I oozed on the compliments. And when I saw him in geometry, chemistry, and Spanish (we had nearly every class together), we didn’t really speak. I mean, I wasn’t avoiding him the way I was avoiding Wes. I just wasn’t putting in any extra effort. I said “hi” if I passed him, but that was about it. Although that was not entirely my fault. It wasn’t like Cody went out of his way to talk to me, either. He always had a plethora of girls a
round him to stroke his ego, so it wasn’t like he needed attention from me. I didn’t really care, not as long as he kept flirting back in English class.

  Amanda was my biggest problem. We had only history together. Thank goodness. I don’t think I could have handled more than that. But for some reason, even though I should have seen her only in fifth period, it was as if she was everywhere I went. And when she wasn’t there in body, her presence still loomed like a dark shadow I was fairly certain wanted to suck up my soul.

  She’d try to rile me up, too. It was her favorite sport. Kayla and Jill told me to pretend Amanda didn’t exist, to totally ignore her, that reacting would give her exactly what she wanted. I tried to take their advice and make the best of the situation. I didn’t want her to win. So when I saw Amanda in the hall and she gave me that phony smile of hers, where her eyes shot darts at me, I just returned it. Each time. Even when she gushed over Wes right to my face, I kept my mouth shut. Even when she tried to kill my self-confidence, I still held back.

  But Friday, when I got to English class, even though I was early, she was there—waiting outside the door. Her being there wasn’t a surprise. It was becoming a daily occurrence, but I had always managed to get there before her. Now she had beaten me.

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Waiting for Wes,” she informed me. But it seemed as if she was waiting for me. To rub my face in the fact that he wanted her. She was like a dog with a bone. She wouldn’t let it drop.

  “Good for you,” I said, trying to act as nonchalant as I could muster. I was going to just walk past her, but then I noticed her focus shifted elsewhere. I turned to look. Cody was coming down the hall. And Amanda’s gaze lingered on him just a little too long before she turned her attention back to me. She didn’t think I caught it, but I did. Was there a chance she still liked him?

  A gazillion thoughts flooded through me. If she liked him, this could be a win-win. Maybe she’d get rid of Wes, and he’d realize he wanted me. Not that I wanted to be second choice … but …

  After all of Amanda’s sly remarks to me about Wes, it was only fair that I got to turn the tables. “It must be weird for you to see Cody around,” I said.

  “Why would it be?”

  “Well, I heard you took the breakup really hard.” That was a lie. I was fishing. Rumor had it she broke it off, but I saw the look she just had on her face. It was the same one I got around Wes, and it told me there was way more to this story.

  Her nostrils flared. “I dumped him.”

  I had struck a nerve. This was kind of fun. “Then you wouldn’t care if he dated someone else?”

  “Why would I?” she asked.

  “Good to know.”

  Just then Cody got to the door. He gave a nod of acknowledgment to us both. He looked a little uncomfortable. I don’t know if it was because his ex and the girl who was constantly hitting on him were talking, but the normally cool, collected façade he wore seemed slightly cracked.

  As he passed us, I said, “See you in class, Cody,” and I put my hand on his back.

  “Oh my God,” Amanda snorted when Cody was out of earshot. “You do not think you have a chance with him, do you? I mean, look at him. And look at you.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised. There’s a lot you don’t know, Amanda.” As the bell rang, I called out to Cody. He turned, and I gave him a little wave and a wink. Wes’s little habit (not that he’d done it to me in ages) was proving very effective. This time, there was no discomfort on Cody’s face. He just gave me a huge grin and waved back.

  I could tell Amanda was fuming, but she didn’t say a word. I finally felt like I had beaten her at her own game, but my victory was short-lived. My Cody distraction made me lose track of time, and I was still standing at the door when Wes walked in. Amanda totally milked it. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and even though I raced into the classroom, I could still hear them. Her laugh. Their talk about the dance. Her promise to meet him right after class.

  English seemed to drag on. I was more than ready to go home once the bell rang. I had gotten avoiding Wes in class down to a science. (This had the surprising upside of increasing my English grade. I was getting tons of points for class participation.) I had two new standard exit strategies. If Wes was taking his time to pack up, I raced out of the room. If he got up quickly, I held back until I thought he was long gone. And Jill and Kayla tried not to leave me alone. They came to find me as soon as they could for backup support.

  Today, Wes was the first one out of class, so I gave it four minutes and then exited. Only, he was still there. His back was up against the wall right next to the door, and Amanda was pressed into him. She was giggling and saying something, but I couldn’t make it out. My head was foggy watching them.

  “Emily,” she said, once she caught sight of me. “Will we see you at the dance tonight? This guy here”—she crawled her fingers up his chest—“and I can’t wait for tonight.”

  Wes looked almost as uncomfortable as I felt.

  “You’ll see all of us,” Jill said, walking up, Kayla not too far behind.

  Amanda waved her arm in a swishing motion. “Right, the group date. I guess when you can’t get the real thing…”

  “Or maybe,” Kayla said, “it’s the better way, and you just don’t know what it’s like to have friends who actually enjoy being around you.”

  We didn’t wait for a response. Kayla just linked one of her elbows with mine, and Jill did the same. Then we turned and walked away.

  Once we were finally outside, I felt as if I could breathe a little easier.

  “Don’t let her get you down,” Kayla told me as we stood by the bike rack. “We’ll have a great time at the dance.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no way I’m going to that.”

  “You have to,” Jill said.

  “Why? So I can watch Wes and Amanda hold each other close, gaze into each other’s eyes, and probably kiss? Or so I can be a fifth wheel and bug Kayla and Jace or ruin your first date with Seth? I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  They spoke over each other. “You wouldn’t be a fifth wheel,” Kayla said right as Jill was telling me, “You wouldn’t be ruining anything.”

  But they were just being nice. I knew I would destroy their nights. And not because you can’t be single and go to a dance, but because I was going to be in a foul mood. How was I supposed to have fun with Amanda and Wes’s relationship so in my face? I was going to be horrible company, and we all knew it. My friends, however, wouldn’t listen to reason.

  No matter how many rational arguments I made for why it was an incredibly bad idea for me to go to the dance, they wouldn’t hear it.

  “If you don’t go, I’m not going,” Jill said.

  “You have to go. What about Seth?”

  “I’ll have to cancel.”

  I looked to Kayla. “Will you talk some sense into her? She’s not doing that because of me.”

  Kayla shrugged. “You don’t go, none of us go. We’re not letting you sit home and sulk by yourself.”

  “Stop it,” I said. “This isn’t going to make me feel better. I want you guys to go to the dance. You’ve both been looking forward to it. You’ll have fun there. I won’t. Seriously, I will be okay by myself for a night. I’ll get in comfy pajamas, watch Netflix, eat whatever I want. It will be great.”

  “Does sound great.” Jill leaned against the bike rack. “So we’ll join you then.”

  I clenched my hands into fists. They were not ruining their night because of me. Especially not Jill. I knew how excited she was about her date. I had been watching her and Seth in study hall. I had moved a couple of rows behind them so Jill could have some alone time with him, and seeing them together made my heart all melty. They were totally adorable. They’d each sneak peeks at the other one when they thought no one was looking. And Seth kept lifting his arm as if he was going to go in and take her hand, but then he kept pulling back. He was nervous. This date was exactly what they nee
ded. I was not going to be the one to take that from them.

  “Ever think I just need some time alone?” I asked them.

  Kayla shook her head. “No, not really. You’re stuck with us, but where we hang out is up to you.”

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Fine. I’ll go to the dance. But I’m not ruining either of your dates. I’ll have one of my parents drive me. I’ll meet you there. I’m not tagging along in the car with either of you. Deal?”

  “Deal,” they both said.

  They hadn’t given me any choice. I had to tell them what they wanted to hear. But it was all going to work out. They’d forgive me when I didn’t show up. Besides, it didn’t really count as lying if my fingers were crossed the whole time, right?

  24

  “Isn’t the school dance tonight?” my mom asked as I fished through the refrigerator in my I-hate-life Friday night bests, which consisted of baggy red sweatpants and a faded Cleveland Browns T-shirt.

  “What?” How did she know?

  “You left one of those flyers lying around,” she said, reading my mind.

  “I’m not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “Sick,” I answered.

  She eyed my stash of food. Leftover lasagna, two chocolate puddings, and a Coke. “Pretty healthy appetite for someone who isn’t feeling well.”

  “Feed a fever, starve a cold,” I told her. I didn’t want this conversation. I just wanted to take food—a lot of it—and hide in my room for the rest of the night—the rest of my life if it was possible—and never think of Wes Rosenthal again.

  “Emily, what’s going on?” she asked. “You’ve been upset all week. Is this about that production you did? I’ve been trying not to ask you about it, but something’s obviously bothering you.”

  A pudding dropped out of my hand. She couldn’t know about the Romeo and Juliet scene, could she? “What production?”

  “The one that’s all over your GroupIt page.”

  Shoot. Why had I accepted my mother’s follow request? I winced as I bent over to pick up my snack. “That, ummm, that was nothing.”