Fakespeare--Star-Crossed in Romeo and Juliet Page 5

  “Breathe through your mouth,” Romeo whispered. “You won’t smell the cologne as much, then.”

  “Just be casual,” Mercutio added. “And try not to go totally nuts and flee at the thought of Tybalt’s razor-sharp blade.”

  “You’re worse than the Narrator,” Sam grumbled.

  “Who?” Romeo and Mercutio asked.

  “Nothing,” Sam said.

  Becca tried not to stare as Lorelei spoke with Tybalt. It was hard to look away, though. His mustache wiggled up and down like a caterpillar on a bungee cord.

  Suddenly Tybalt lifted his head and peered into the crowd of actors. For one heart-stopping moment, Becca thought she saw his eyes linger on cape-covered Rufus, but then he lifted his arm and waved them in.

  It was only once they’d passed through the door that Becca realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out slowly. Mal and Cal Worthy snuck into forbidden places all the time, and somehow they’d never fainted because they’d forgotten to breathe.

  When they reached a second, bright red door, Mercutio swept them a deep bow. “Here’s where I leave you,” he said. “I must prepare my prank. Romeo, are sure you don’t want to help?”

  Becca looked at Romeo, who was standing on his tiptoes, his head turning back and forth like a sprinkler as he scanned the hallways for Rosaline. When Romeo didn’t answer, Mercutio just shrugged. “Till later, then.”

  He took a few steps before calling back to them, “And watch out for Lord Capulet! He likes to yell at stuff.”

  “Stuff?” Becca asked.

  “People. Plants. Baggage. He’s not picky.”

  “Gotcha,” Sam said.

  “Also, the family nurse,” Mercutio said. “She’s old, but she has a sixth sense for trouble. And a seventh sense for hitting people with brooms.”

  Becca looked at Romeo and then Sam, who was struggling to keep Rufus back from the red door. From behind it, Becca could make out the sounds (and smells) of a party.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  They nodded, and she opened the door.

  “Urp!” The masked man in front of Becca burped. Instead of looking horrified, the woman he was talking with looked pleased. And as Becca kept watching, she saw more and more people burping.

  And eating with their fingers.

  And chewing with their mouths open.

  It was even worse than the school cafeteria!

  “Wow,” she whispered to Romeo. “The Capulets don’t have any manners, do they?”

  Romeo tilted his head. “What do you mean? Everyone is burping.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” Becca asked in surprise.

  “Of course! If you like the food, you’re supposed to burp.” He shook his head. “The Instead-Stix must be an incredible success!”

  Woof! Woof! Woof!

  “I’m having some trouble,” Sam said as Rufus strained toward a long banquet table covered in appetizers. “All this F-O-O-D is making Rufus hungry!”

  Rufus whined and lunged forward. Sam winced. “If we don’t find a leash soon, I think he’ll yank out my arm.”

  Becca looked around and spotted several platters filled with what looked like thick, short ropes, each one about three feet long. She grabbed a few and knotted them together.

  “Voilà!” she said as she tied one end to Rufus’s collar. “A leash.”

  “Great,” Sam said, looking relieved. “Is it also polite to provide short ropes to party guests?”

  “Those aren’t ropes,” Romeo said, and pointed to a sign next to the platters:

  INSTEAD-STIX: WHEN BREAD GETS NIXED, WE’VE GOT YOUR FIX! NO RUSE, NO TRICKS, JUST INSTEAD-STIX!

  “This is what they want to replace pizza dough with?!” Becca asked. “Why is it so stringy?”

  Sam poked at one. “Maybe it isn’t so bad. Other people are eating them.” He nibbled one corner, then put the Instead-Stix back down on the table. “Have you ever wondered what burned cardboard soaked in lemon juice and fish oil tastes like?”

  Becca shook her head.

  “Then don’t eat this,” Sam said. He was starting to look a little green. “Because that’s exactly what Instead-Stix taste like. I hope the Montagues’ Lotsa-Rella tastes better than this.”

  Romeo made a face. “Me, too! But nothing will taste good until I have a date to the party tomorrow night. We need to find Rosaline!”

  Becca and Sam exchanged looks.

  “Er, don’t you want to practice what you’ll say to her?” Becca asked.

  “I guess.” Romeo shrugged. “I was thinking of starting with something like … Look! What, er, good-lookingness—Wait, let me start over.”

  He cleared his throat. “You are … your nostrils are so cute—THERE SHE IS!” Romeo started flapping his hand like a fish out of water. “I SEE HER! ROSALINE! HEY, ROSALINE!”

  Becca had never actually had an electric eel zap her right in the heart, but she imagined it felt the way she felt just then.

  Halfway down a long banquet table stood a tall girl with eyelashes as long as toothbrush bristles. She was beautiful.

  Becca’s electrified heart sank into her stomach.

  They had already failed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CROSSING THE ROSALINE

  “Oh no,” Sam whispered next to Becca. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” Becca said. “Think, think, think…”

  “HEY, ROSALINE,” Romeo called out again in a too-loud voice. He quickly pulled off his mask.

  The beautiful girl smiled and walked toward them. But then …

  … she glided right past them, without even saying a word!

  “HI, ROSALINE!” Romeo said again, but he was still looking at the banquet table. Becca turned back toward the food, and for the first time she noticed the other girl who had been standing there.

  This girl was stuffing her face with cinnamon Instead-Stix and tomato minimuffins. Her cheeks bulged like a hamster’s when she finally looked up.

  “Oh, hey,” she said, her mouth still full. “Romeo Montague, right?”

  “RIGHT!” Romeo said. “IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU, ROSALINE.”

  Becca winced. Even though she didn’t want Romeo to make a good impression on Rosaline, she realized that she and Sam would need to work extra-hard when they finally found Juliet.

  Rosaline swallowed her mouthful. “You sound like a sick cow—do you always bellow?”

  “UH,” Romeo said, and then cleared his throat. “Uh, no, I don’t,” he said, this time in almost a whisper. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

  “Yeah, kinda boring, though. I was thinking of livening things up by ‘accidentally’ pushing Grandpa Capulet onto a cake or something.” She guffawed loudly, and bits of tomato minimuffins flew out of her mouth.

  “Oh,” Romeo said, “I guess that would be … funny?”

  “Not that you’d know funny if it came up and yelled, Hi, I’m Funny in your face.” Rosaline snorted. “From what I’ve heard, you’re a party pooper. You hanging out with circus freaks now?” she said, gesturing toward Becca, Sam, and Rufus without actually looking at them.

  “Hey!” Becca said. “We’re not freaks!”

  “Sure you’re not,” Rosaline said, reaching for a platter of tomato cupcakes.

  “For once, Becca is right,” Sam said. “We’re totally normal!”

  But Rosaline didn’t apologize. Instead she poured herself a goblet of tomato punch and began to gulp it down with loud slurps.

  “Anyway,” Romeo mumbled, “I was wondering … I don’t have anyone to hang out with at the Montagues’ Lotsa-Rella Ball tomorrow—”

  “Oh yeah,” Rosaline interrupted. “Hope that’s fun. I’m going on a trip to Mantua to visit family. Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “I hope they all fall into a well before I get there.”

  If this party were a qualifier for the Worst Person Ever Olympics, Rosaline would’ve clinched a spot a few times over.

  The girl sm
acked her lips and scarfed down the last five tomato brownies in one bite. “Gotta go,” she said. “They just put out the tomato juice fountain, and frankly, this conversation is boring.”

  And before any of them could say, Good riddance! she’d clomped off.

  “You know what, Romeo?” Sam said. “I would send a letter to her family in Mantua thanking them for keeping her away from your family’s party.”

  Romeo’s shoulders slumped. “I knew people said Rosaline was hard to be friends with, but I thought maybe she was just misunderstood. That’s why I wanted to ask her to the Lotsa-Rella Ball—I knew no one else had asked her yet.”

  For the first time, Becca felt bad for Romeo. She knew what it was like to hope one thing would happen and then have things turn out completely differently.

  “Hey, man,” Sam said. “You should give Rufus a squeeze. When I feel down, I find that a doggy hug always helps. Right, bud—RUFUS?!”

  Sam was still holding the Instead-Stix leash, but the leash was no longer attached to Rufus. The only thing at the end of it was teeth marks.

  Becca spun around, trying to locate their dog.

  “Look!” she cried.

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Not the punch!”

  A girl was pouring herself a glass of what looked like lumpy tomato punch … and Rufus was running straight toward her. If he knocked the bowl over, that would definitely draw Tybalt’s attention.

  Becca had to admit that all Sam’s basketball practice was paying off as he threw the Instead-Stix leash toward the charging dog. The makeshift lasso caught Rufus just in time to stop him from spilling the punch everywhere.

  “I can’t believe you were able to eat those Instead-Stix without getting sick,” Sam said to Rufus as Becca caught up to her stepbrother and the dog.

  “And I can’t believe how fast and strong you are!” a girl’s voice cooed.

  Becca’s head snapped up, and she saw a girl in a bright blue-white dress with a crescent-moon pattern batting her eyelashes at Sam while her matching crescent-moon headdress wobbled dangerously. “You saved my life!”

  “Er, not really,” Sam said, patting Rufus’s head. “But I did probably save your dress from getting tomato stains.”

  The girl fluttered her eyelashes harder. “Like I said, you saved my life! Would you like to dance?”

  Becca smirked as Sam shook his head. “Uh, maybe another time.”

  The girl’s eyes turned sharklike. “I’m the host’s daughter, so you don’t have a choice.” Her smile was sweetly threatening, or threateningly sweet; Becca wasn’t sure.

  Just when things seemed to be getting better, who should take a liking to Sam but Juliet herself.

  Becca’s half heart attack came back in full force, and Sam’s eyes became as round as marbles.

  “J-Juliet?” Becca said under her breath. “Juliet is Lord Capulet’s daughter? And she likes Sam?”

  Yes, she is. And yes, she does.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SAM AND JULIET?

  “This is bad, bad, bad, bad,” Becca said. This was so typical of Sam—he was making everything worse!

  Juliet was looking at him as if he were the last piece of apple pie on earth. Seriously, what could be more awful than someone having a crush on your stepbrother? Becca tried to rub her temples, but her hand just bounced off the parrot beak.

  “Hold it!” Becca shouted. She marched between Sam and Juliet. “I’m afraid he can’t dance with you, because … We are performers! And our performance is about to begin!”

  She pulled Sam away from Juliet as fast as she could.

  “It is?” Sam asked, following along.

  “Yes!” Becca said with determination. “STEEDS, ASSEMBLE!”

  Oh, I really don’t know if that’s a good—

  “I SAID, ASSEMBLE!” Becca repeated.

  Well trained, the actors of the Fiery-Footed Steeds came running at Becca’s call, including a very annoyed-looking Lorelei. “I said you could be in the group, not that you were now in charge of it,” the director grumped.

  “I’m sorry,” Becca said, “but we have an entertainment emergency! Lord Capulet feels the evening isn’t exciting enough. He sent his daughter, Juliet, to tell us to perform something.”

  Becca elbowed Sam and waved back at Juliet. She smiled and blew a kiss.

  Sam turned red.

  “Well, I suppose if the hosts demand it…,” Lorelei said. She quickly passed out scripts to everyone. Becca looked at the parchment. Apparently she was playing somebody named Jolly Cabinet.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” Lorelei said, her voice cutting across the hall and hushing the crowd. “This evening, the Fiery-Footed Steeds proudly present … Valona: A Tale of Two Delis. Enter Rollyo!!”

  The audience took a minute from burping to politely applaud as Romeo walked across the stage.

  “Er, this city is a dump!” Romeo read from his script. “You know what it needs? Low-quality sandwiches. The Marliboo family will build a mediocre deli!”

  An awful thought niggled in the back of Becca’s mind as a few actors dressed in Montague/Marliboo blue entered the stage.

  “We’re going to break ground for a deli,” Romeo announced to the new actors. “A deli that serves not-that-great, overpriced sandwiches to the unknowing people of Verona—er, I mean, Valona!”

  Romeo’s ears turned red and Becca’s face fell. The play was a barely disguised tale of the Montague-Capulet pizza fight that made the Montagues look terrible. She hoped Romeo would be able to make it through to the end.

  “Scene Two!” Lorelei called out, and two stagehands moved a table into place to be a deli counter. “You,” she whispered at Becca. “You’re Jolly Cabinet—you’re up next!”

  “This BLT is like a warm fire to my cold, hungry soul!” said an actor pretending to be a deli customer.

  Becca quickly stepped onto the stage. “That’s because we Cabinets are the best sandwich makers in the world,” she read. “We’re proud to help bring this city back from the brink of chaos.”

  Romeo/Rollyo appeared onstage again, and the audience booed. Even with the mask blocking his face, she could tell he was terrified. Beads of sweat dripped onto his neck. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “You know what it is, Marliboo!” Becca replied. “Your family has been serving stale sandwiches! The people of Valona deserve better.”

  Romeo reached up quickly to adjust his mask. The sweat was making it slip and the string was loose—it was barely staying on his face! The show needed to end quickly, or else Rollyo would be exposed as the real-life Romeo Montague. From the hisses and boos of the audience, Becca knew they wouldn’t be welcoming.

  “Our deli was … was here first,” Romeo read, pushing his mask up again, “and we’ll see yours fall!”

  “How about we settle this here and now?” Sam said, walking onto the stage. Lorelei had stuck a fake mustache on his mask that looked exactly like Tybalt’s.

  “I am Tabbert Cabinet and the best swordsman in Valona,” Sam read. “And I challenge you to a duel!”

  The crowd cheered loudly! Romeo’s neck was now entirely covered in sweat. The mask suddenly slipped.…

  “I have a better idea!” Becca said, ignoring Lorelei’s glare. She grabbed a tomato from a nearby banquet table. “We’ll win this fight the way we always planned—with food!”

  She whipped back her arm and let the tomato fly!

  It streaked through the air and hit Romeo right in the face—covering him with so much tomato juice that no one could recognize him even if the mask slipped more.

  The crowd burst into uproarious applause!

  Lorelei shrugged and motioned for the rest of the actors to take their bows.

  The clapping went on and on.

  Becca gave a shaky smile and bowed next to Sam. “Where’s Rufus?” she whispered.

  “Uh…”

  Woof!

  Rufus streaked from under a banquet table and ran toward the stage—stra
ight toward Romeo.

  In two quick bounds, the dog was on top of Romeo. Romeo tried to push him away, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop Rufus’s massive tongue from licking the tomato juice off his face …

  … and his mask along with it.

  Everyone in the entire hall stopped clapping and stared at Romeo. Including one set of very narrow, very mean, very cologne-y eyes.

  From across the room, Tybalt unsheathed his sword. “THOSE AREN’T MARLIBOOS—THOSE ARE REAL MONTAGUES! GET THEM!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A MARLIBOO BY ANY OTHER NAME

  Everywhere Becca looked, there were Capulets running toward them. There was no way they could escape!

  “RED RAIN!” Mercutio’s voice bellowed from somewhere in the angry crowd.

  It must have been a secret code, because several partygoers suddenly ducked under tables to reveal hidden stashes of tomatoes.

  “Pour it on!” Mercutio shouted at his team of pranksters.

  Tomatoes flew everywhere!

  Tybalt and the Capulets were caught completely off guard. Their charge toward Romeo was interrupted as the whole team of Montagues sprang out in a tomato ambush.

  “Come on!” Becca said, grabbing Romeo and waving to Sam. “Let’s find some cover!”

  The three of them and Rufus dashed off the stage and came to a sliding halt under the nearest buffet table.

  “I say we go out there and help Mercutio!” Sam said, his eyes flashing the same way they always did before a basketball game.

  “I say under this table is a great place to be,” Romeo said. “Tybalt scares me.”

  Peering out from under the tablecloth, Becca watched Tybalt slice a flying tomato in half with one swipe. She couldn’t exactly blame Romeo.

  “But Mercutio’s part of our team!” Sam said. “You guys can stay, but I’ll see if I can get to him. I bet he has an escape plan.”

  Sam dashed out from under the table and joined the fray.