Star-Crossed

by Jo Cotterill

  “What’s going on?” Ethan asks the room, his voice shaking slightly.

  No one replies.

  Will tries to get up, but the boys hold him down and laugh. He struggles against them, grunting, but is no match for their combined strength and he collapses back down to the floor.

  Jack’s smile widens, and his black eyes grow even colder.

  “Ethan Banner. Glad you could make it. Me and the boys have a little proposition for you…” He walks over to Will and bends down, so that they are face to face.

  “You see, Banner, me and the boys think that William here” – he waves his arm towards Will, who no longer looks like he can understand a word anyone is saying – “is not cut out for the army. We need real men.” He walks over to Will, and talks directly to him. “This is not a man. He’s a slacker. A failure. An embarrassment…”

  Will hears his father’s voice echoing in his ears. Jack walks back over to Ethan, and stands beside him. The three holding Will pull him up and shake him, laughing. Will moans. Ethan stands in shock. He can’t believe this is happening.

  “So,” says Jack, his voice biting through Ethan’s thoughts, “the question still remains: what are you going to do, Banner? Are you going to join us and be a real soldier? Do you want to stand up and be counted, make your father proud? Or are you going to fight against us, so we have to … persuade you to leave the army too?”

  Ethan’s heart races. He feels sick. So many thoughts, so many memories, come flooding back.

  “Brothers.”

  “Brothers…”

  “I’m going to be in the army…”

  “The only thing I’ve ever dreamed of. This is my chance…”

  “Did I tell you they threatened to break my legs?”

  “So what are you going to do?” Jack asks, stepping between him and Will. “Are you in?” He holds out his hand. “Or are you out?”

  The whole room stares at Ethan. Will looks up, silently pleading, wondering what is taking Ethan so long, why he isn’t rushing to his side, why he isn’t helping…

  Ethan can hear his blood pumping in his head. His vision starts to swim. He can’t think straight, he can’t hear properly, he can’t do anything at all. He looks to Jack, to the boys, then to Will.

  “The only thing I’ve ever dreamed of…”

  He can’t do it.

  He can’t make the decision.

  The last thing he sees before he turns and sprints out of the room is the look of shock on his best friend’s face.

  You shove your earphones into your ears and select your perfect opening night track. The Caesars: “Jerk It Out”. You shimmy down the corridor on the way to the lighting room. The excitement of a performance is the best thing in the world – everyone high on the adrenaline rush created by a thrilling mixture of fear and excitement, the feeling that makes you feel like you could conquer the world in a moment. You love that feeling. For you, there’s nothing better.

  Sex might be better… you reason with yourself. Then you catch sight of yourself dancing down the corridor to music only you can hear. You grin, and carry on shimmying. Nope – sex can’t feel this good!

  You have just left Reuben at his dressing-room door – one of the maths classrooms – that he is sharing with some of the other guys. You had thought this was supremely funny, as Rubes had winked at you as he shut the door, and you had caught sight of the guys he is sharing with. They had looked a little anxious. Reuben is such a tease. You smile again, not being able to keep it off your lips, and come to the end of the corridor where the lighting room is. It’s coming to the end of your song, so you stop the iPod and dance into the small, darkened room and dump your bag in the corner. You lean on to the surface above the switchboard, so you can see the stage. How long is it until curtain up? You look at your watch. It’s 5.30 p.m. Two hours to go. You have to do the lighting checks, grab something to eat, then have a small chat to Walker. The smile grows bigger. The play is gonna rock!

  You walk over to your chair to sit down, but there is something on it. You turn the chair round and pick up the package. It’s long and thin, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a red ribbon and a tag. You flip it over.

  To the true Juliet, from your Romeo x

  You frown at the mysterious gift, undoing the ribbon. You let it fall to the ground and unwrap the paper.

  “Oh…” you sigh softly.

  A single long-stemmed white rose, perfect in every way, lies in the paper. It looks too delicate to touch, but you pick it up anyway. The petals feel like velvet.

  Your heart picks up a beat. Who sent it? Your head races with answers. The first name that springs to mind is dismissed painfully. You wince, but carry on thinking. Rubes? Yeah! It must be Rubes. But why would he sign it “your Romeo”? You are lost in thought when there is a knock at the door. . .

  “Rubes? Nice rose! Thanks, it’s gorgeous!”

  The person walks into the dark room, his eyes twinkling with danger.

  “Nope, not quite, Anderson.”

  You feel heat on your face.

  Why is he here? I was gonna be fine. Just go away … please…

  You look up at Chris. He isn’t smirking as usual. He actually looks quite serious.

  God, he looks cute when he’s being serious… you think, then immediately curse yourself for thinking about him like that again. Get over him, right?

  “Look – what do you want, Banner? I’m kinda busy…”

  The smirk returns, as if to say “Yeah, right.”

  “I need a favour.”

  You laugh humourlessly.

  “You? A favour? From me?”

  He sighs shifting slightly, clearing his throat like he is uncomfortable.

  “Not just for me – for the play, for Walker, for everybody.”

  “OK,” you answer cautiously. “Ask away…”

  He looks at you straight in the eye. “Walker found Misha in the toilets about fifteen minutes ago … throwing up.”

  You stare at him and shake your head, confused.

  “Why?”

  “Nerves. Walker said she was shaking all over and repeating her first lines over and over again. Misha mentioned before that she hadn’t been sleeping right; she’s been learning her lines until the early hours, but they haven’t been sinking in. I just thought she was being – well, a drama queen, but it turns out that it’s all too much for her to handle. Walker is taking her home. Misha’s just quit the play.”

  You sit, gaping in a not-so-attractive way at the wall, taking this new information in.

  She’s quit?! What is she playing at? She can’t quit now, there’s no Juliet! The show’s going to be cancelled! I can’t believe that Walker would let—

  Your eyes narrow.

  Now you know why Chris is here.

  Your eyes flick back to his face. You know what he’s going to ask you to do, but you want him to say it. You’re not going to make this easy for him.

  “So what are you saying?” you ask, keeping your face blank of emotion.

  Chris’s gaze never drops from your eyes. “Jen – you are the only one who knows Juliet’s lines word perfectly. We need you – you have to do it. It’s either that or we call off the play.”

  Your heart is in your mouth.

  What do I say?

  You look down at your hands. The emotions running through you are so strong that you don’t trust yourself not to cry. On one hand, you want nothing more than to say yes: to be under the spotlights, to be part of Shakespeare’s most tragic drama, to be at Chris’s side and kiss him one last time, even if it is just for the play…

  But on the other hand, you know that if you accept the part, you know you’ll just be kidding yourself into thinking that he’s kissing you back. He’ll only ever kiss Juliet.

  You finish inspecting your
hands. Your decision, though selfish, is for the best. You still don’t look at him.

  “I can’t.”

  Chris shakes his head, unable to believe what he is hearing. His tone is so sarcastic and disgusted that it punctures your heart like a poison dart.

  “And why not?”

  You take a deep breath. I have to tell him. I have to. So what if he laughs at me, stomps on my heart and tells the entire school? You swallow the lump in your throat. So, even if he violently rejects me and breaks my heart, at least then I can move on, right…?

  You look up into those bright blue eyes that cast the magic that makes you powerless. Your eyes are dry, but your heart is gushing emotion with the force of Niagara Falls. Your voice feels so thick with fear that you might choke.

  “Because…”

  Tell him, for Christ’s sake!

  “… because…”

  You take a deep breath, and watch his eyes narrowing with annoyance at what could be your excuse.

  “…because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  You say it so quietly that you aren’t even sure that he heard you. The smirk falls from his face, disbelief clouding his features. He stares at you, shocked, but this time you don’t run away. You stay perfectly still, waiting to hear what he’s got to say. You pray that he will let you down gently, that he won’t be a jerk.

  He opens his mouth to speak. You wince.

  “What?” he whispers hoarsely.

  Fury surges through you.

  “Look,” you start angrily. “You heard me. I’m not going to say it again so that you can have a good old laugh at—”

  He moves closer to you and puts a finger to your lips to signal quiet. You fall silent. All the doubt has gone from his face and he comes a little closer to you, deadly serious.

  “I just wanted to check that I’m not asleep…” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. He pulls back a fraction and looks you in the eye. “Because all my dreams have just come true.”

  He leans forward and catches your lips quickly but tenderly. You kiss him back – just your lips against his – then he pulls away a little and regains eye contact.

  “Oh…!” you exclaim softly.

  Your heart has stopped beating. The breath is stuck in your throat.

  Is this happening? Is this really happening?

  He takes your head in his hands and pulls you into a mesmerizing kiss that leaves you shaky and gasping for breath. You lean close to him, resting your head on his shoulder; the heat from his body drawing you into his embrace. He kisses you again, lingering on your lips, as you curl your arms around his back.

  It just feels so right…

  The door suddenly flings open. You jump and break the kiss, still wrapped up in Chris’s firm but loving embrace.

  “Hey, lighting babe, we’ve come to—” Rubes and Helene Johnston are standing with their mouths wide open, staring at the two of you together. All four of you freeze. Then Reuben’s face cracks into a devilish smile. You grin sheepishly back. Helene is stood stock still, gazing at you and Chris tangled together and trying to figure out whether her eyes are lying to her, or if she has just witnessed the unbelievable. You and Chris separate slightly and you straighten out your top, your smile growing bigger. Reuben tears his eyes away from yours and takes the dumbstruck Helene’s arm and steers her out of the room.

  “Sorry to disturb … we’ll just be going now…”

  He turns around, pushes Helene out of the door and shuts it behind himself with a ludicrous comedy wink, leaving the two of you alone again. Your grin spills over into a disbelieving laugh. Chris laughs too. You turn back and pull him close to you. He strokes your hair. You shut your eyes tight and try to commit every tiny detail of the past five minutes to memory.

  Life doesn’t get any better than this…

  When he finally lets go of you, Chris sits down on your swivel chair, running his hands through his hair and staring at the floor. You watch him for a few seconds, letting a pleasant feeling warm you from the inside.

  Is it happiness?

  You don’t know, because lately you haven’t felt much more than the tightening knot of depression in your stomach. The new feeling is indescribable. You want to cry and laugh and scream and dance all at the same time. You choose to laugh. Chris looks up at you, smirking – but not a negative smirk. Instead, a smirk that flips your stomach and makes you see stars. You stop laughing as your eyes connect with his. He pulls you gently on to his lap and presses his lips to yours again. When you eventually pull away, you speak.

  “What are we going to do?”

  Chris frowns. “What do you mean?”

  You turn to face him better. “What are we going to do about our parents?”

  His frown deepens. “I don’t know.”

  You both sit there for a moment, thinking. Then he speaks again, in a quiet, beautifully sincere voice.

  “But I do know that now I’ve got you, I won’t let you go for the world.”

  You smile. “Not even if Britney Spears or Paris Hilton walked in now and said, ‘Chris – be mine! I love you! Take me, I’m yours!’?”

  He pauses thoughtfully. “Well…”

  You laugh, punching his arm playfully, and he laughs too, taking your wrists in both of his hands and kissing you again so your laughter fades into him. You lean closer to him, letting all your thoughts and worries slide away like a dream already forgotten. Fireworks, explosions, volcanic eruptions – everything you are supposed to feel when you kiss the right person, you are feeling right now. Like heaven in a—

  Bleep-bleep.

  You’re in mid-kiss; eyes snapping open. Your mobile is ringing.

  You tear yourself away from Chris, sighing with annoyance, and hurriedly search for your phone.

  “Come on, come on, you stupid thing! Where the hell are you?” you mutter under your breath.

  You pick up your coat and find that the pocket is vibrating. You pull it out and look at the screen.

  “Who is it?” Chris asks, pulling your hand, trying to get you to sit back down. You interlock your fingers with his but don’t sit down. He pouts and tugs your arms again.

  “Rubes.”

  He mock-scowls.

  “Tell him you’re busy…” He stands up and loops his arms around your waist.

  “Er, no,” you say, freeing yourself and putting on your best impression of your mother. “Sit down, Banner, I’m busy.”

  He sits down. You press the “Receive Call” button and watch him stare at the floor like a moody child. God, he’s cute when he’s pouty…

  “HELLO?!” Reuben shouts down the phone, making you pay attention and turn away from Chris.

  “Sorry, babe, I can’t talk now … I’m kinda busy … with, er … Chris…” You smile. That sounds so good out loud.

  Rubes gives a short laugh. “Jen – you’ve been ‘kinda busy’ for forty-five minutes.”

  You look at your watch and gasp. You and Chris really had been in the room for three-quarters of an hour. There’s just over an hour until curtain-up.

  “Oh God!” you cry. “How did time go that fast?! I haven’t found my dress yet or anything!”

  Chris stands up and mouths, “What’s going on?”

  “We’ve been in here for nearly an hour,” you say. His jaw drops. “You have to go!”

  “So do you, sweetpea,” Reuben says. You can practically hear your best friend beaming down the phone. “Good luck. Break a leg, Juliet.”

  “You too, Rubes.”

  You end the call and grab your belongings, while Chris grabs your hand. The two of you rush past the hubbub of the supporting cast’s dressing room, a cloud of hairspray and stage powder hanging low in the air, to the empty corridor beyond and the room marked “Juliet, Nurse and La
dy Capulet”. Chris gets there a second before you and stops quite suddenly, pulling you to him. You fall slightly into his embrace and kiss him deeply. Then you remember where you are. You pull away, smiling into those enchanting eyes.

  “You have to go!” you whisper. “Go now!”

  He takes your hand and kisses it.

  “Until tonight, sweet Juliet.”

  He runs off, leaving you outside your door. When he’s disappeared, you pull out your phone and press speed-dial five. Maddy picks up.

  “Hey, sis, wassup?”

  “Mads, guess what?”

  “What? You know I’m bad at this game…”

  “I’ve just got my part back – I’m in the play!”

  There is a small shriek at the end of the phone. Then, in a questioning tone, “How? Oh my God, you killed her, didn’t you? I know she’s a bitch but she didn’t deserve death…”

  You laugh. “No – it just turns out that Misha isn’t the great actress she thought she was. She got too stressed and had a panic attack, then quit the play. I’m the only one who knows the script word for word – so I got re-offered my part!”

  “That’s great, Jay-Jay – I’m so excited! I have my ticket but I think Mum and Dad are at a dinner.”

  Your face droops slightly. You’d forgotten you’d told them they could go to the dinner, now that you’d only be responsible for the lighting. But the image of Chris’s smiling face flashes back into your head, and you immediately feel better.

  “Well, if they can’t get here they can’t – it’s not their fault. At least you will be there.”

  “Damn straight!” your sister cries. “But just make sure that the Banner kid stays the hell away from you, and try to control yourself this time, OK?”

  You inhale sharply. You want to tell Maddy about you and Chris, but you can’t do it. You know how much your sister hates the Banners, and how strongly she would feel about anything between you and Chris. But she’s your sister – your best friend (apart from Reuben). You don’t see her often, but you always tell her everything. You chew on your lip.