Fakespeare--Star-Crossed in Romeo and Juliet Page 8

  And at the end of that rope was the very tied-up, very slobbery Rufus.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  NOSING YOUR WAY TO VICTORY

  “Rufus!” Becca cried.

  “Becca!” Sam said joyfully.

  “Tybalt!” Juliet said angrily.

  “Juliet,” Tybalt said, hurt.

  “Steve!” Mercutio exclaimed. Everyone turned to stare at him. “Oh, are we only yelling one another’s names?” He shrugged and unhooked his sword. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. En garde!”

  Tybalt’s angry eyes narrowed at Sam. “You!” he growled. “You’re the one who stained my doublet! And unless my eyes deceive me—that’s Romeo Montague standing next to you!”

  Sam crossed his arms. “And you stole our dog and my sister’s backpack. We want them back!”

  “Yeah?” Tybalt sneered. “Or what?”

  “Or we’ll make all your perfume smell like wet dog,” Becca said.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Tybalt snarled, but he took a small step back in surprise.

  That step was all Becca needed.

  “Get him!” she shouted.

  They all rushed Tybalt, but his sword was out half a blink later. Becca skidded to a halt. She really, really hoped Rufus wouldn’t think the sword was some extra-fun shiny stick.

  “That’s an antique!” Tybalt roared as his sword flew from him. His hand shot out, and he grabbed Sam’s arm. “I shall have all your heads! Starting with his.”

  From his doublet, he pulled out a hidden dagger and held it to Sam’s throat.

  The world suddenly became very, very still.

  “Stop, Tybalt!” Juliet yelled as she brandished a rotten tomato. It had patches of fuzzy white mold on it. “Unless you want your last clean suit to look like it was finger painted, let Samikins go!”

  Tybalt eyed the juicy weapon warily. He glanced down at Sam’s head, then slowly back up to the tomato aimed at him.

  With a nod, he pulled his dagger away from Sam’s neck and put it back into his jacket … then whipped out the biggest, drippiest, most intimidating tomato Becca had ever laid eyes on.

  “Easy, Juliet,” Tybalt said. “You’ve already had one dress ruined tonight. Do you really want to make it two? Just answer me this: Were you part of the tomato plot all along?”

  Juliet’s lower lip stuck out. “Are you really accusing me of working with the Montagues?” she asked. “I fought next to you when they attacked! But you kidnapped an innocent animal who has nothing to do with the pizza war!”

  “All’s fair in perfume and war,” Tybalt said. “I owe it to the world to share my beautiful scents even if a puppy tail or two gets hurt in the process.”

  “Beautiful scents?” Juliet shrieked. “Your cologne could knock out a mule! It could knock out a mule with its nose buried in mud! It could shock a dead mule back to life and then kill it again with the stench!!”

  Tybalt’s face turned red. “Don’t you insult my fragrant masterpiece!” he shouted, and whipped the tomato at her.

  SPLOOOSH!!!

  Becca screamed and ducked her head as little bits of tomato guts sprinkled down on her. As she wiped tomato seeds from her eyes, she dreaded what she would see—but the scene wasn’t what she expected.

  Juliet still stood, dress spotless, while Romeo lay at her feet, tomato plastered all over his face. While the rest of them had stood still, Romeo had acted—and taken the tomato for Juliet. The impact of the flying fruit had knocked him out cold.

  And in the moment of surprise, Tybalt bolted.

  “Don’t let him escape!” Becca yelled. “I still need my backpack.”

  Mercutio and Sam sped after him while Becca scooped up more tomatoes from the sidewalk. By the time she had an armload, Tybalt had put Sam in a headlock, and her stepbrother’s face had become a pale shade of green. She wasn’t sure how much longer he could take being so close to Tybalt’s flowery and deadly fumes.

  Picking out the blackest, squishiest tomato, she drew her arm back—

  Only to have it caught in an iron grip.

  “STOP!!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  COLLABORATE AND LISTEN

  Becca twisted around to see a woman with a steel-colored bun pulled so tight that it looked painful.

  “Nurse?” Juliet said, mouth hanging open.

  “Who?” Sam said, eyeing the newcomer.

  “Oh, er,” Juliet said, “everyone, this is Nurse. She’s my nanny.”

  “That’s right, I am,” Nurse said, “and I intend to see that you turn out well, no matter what nonsense you may get into. Everyone, drop what you’re doing this instant!”

  Becca dropped her tomato.

  Mercutio dropped his sword.

  Juliet dropped Romeo’s wrist, which she’d been checking for a pulse.

  The nurse pointed a square finger at Tybalt. “You, too, Tybalt Kenneth Fiore Rudolfo Capulet!”

  Tybalt shifted uncomfortably, then finally let go of Sam, who dropped to the street.

  “That’s better,” Nurse said, crossing her arms. “You may have your own perfumery, but you’re not head of the Capulets yet! Go home—you’re grounded for a week! And for goodness’ sake, take a bath before that perfume puts your whole family in a coma.”

  “But that’s Romeo Montague and his minions!” Tybalt said. “The Montagues stole our dough recipe! I was only trying to stand up and do some good for the Capulets.”

  “Nonsense,” Nurse said crisply. “You’re only blaming the Montagues because you can’t figure out a new perfume recipe. Maybe you can come up with a new one while you’re grounded. Now, go home.”

  Tybalt opened his mouth to argue again, but he got a look from the nurse that could’ve split lumber. He lowered his head and his shoulders drooped.

  “Wait a second!” Becca squeaked, and she shook as everyone looked at her. “Tybalt also took a purple backpack. Where is it?”

  Tybalt mumbled something.

  “Speak up, Tybalt,” Nurse ordered. “Or it’s two weeks, and I take away your perfume kit!”

  “It’s in the apothecary’s,” Tybalt said sullenly.

  Becca went back inside, careful to avoid the mucus puddles left over from Mercutio’s sneezing. Purple straps peeked out from behind the apothecary’s counter. She hurried over.

  Zipping her bag open, she saw with relief that Romeo and Juliet was still in there. She ran back outside just in time to see Tybalt slink away.

  Nurse, Mercutio, and Juliet were all gathered around Romeo, while Sam was carefully checking Rufus for injuries.

  “Did you get the book?” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Is Roo okay?”

  “I think so,” Sam said. “His nose is a little bit runny, but what do you expect after an hour being locked up with Tybalt’s bad cologne? He deserves lots of extra treats for his bravery.”

  WOOF! Roo’s tail gave a small wag.

  “I’m sure we can convince Steve to get an extra bag.” She scratched Rufus’s ears, and the big fluff pile let out a relaxed grunt.

  “Hey,” Sam said. “Did you just refer to my dad—Stephen R. Danielson III—as Steve?”

  “Did I?” Becca said, pausing midscratch to look at Sam. “I guess I did.”

  Sam grinned, and Becca felt her daydreams of flowers and grass skirts finally disappear.

  “I’m happy you’re okay, Roo,” Becca said, changing the subject. She kissed the puppy on his big, wet, sniffly nose. She was rewarded with a SLURP across her face.

  The three family members quickly hurried over to Romeo. Juliet was still cradling his head in her hands.

  “You took a tomato for me,” Juliet said softly. “And we had such a lovely conversation about pizza. But … you’re a Montague.” She sighed. “Romeo, Romeo … Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

  “He’s right there,” Sam said.

  Wherefore doesn’t mean where. It means why.

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Sam,” Juliet said, looking
up, “I still think you’re great, and I want to thank you for your bravery in dealing with Tybalt, but I … I think I need to take a little while to figure out my feelings. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, quite all right,” Sam said, turning redder than an exploding ketchup factory on Mars.

  “But Romeo … if you were anyone else…” Juliet shook her head sadly.

  “Nonsense,” Nurse cut in. “So what if your families have been fighting for years? Doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it. If you ask me, all of Verona has been acting like children since its pizza ingredients were stolen. And it’s all the Narrator’s fault!”

  Becca’s and Sam’s heads whipped toward her.

  “The Narrator?” Becca said. “Do you know anything about him—or her?”

  Nurse narrowed her eyes at them. “So you know the Narrator, then.… Curious.”

  “No, we don’t—not personally—but we’d like to,” Sam chimed in.

  “Then I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong person. I only know that the Narrator likes to stir up trouble.”

  A thought popped into Becca’s head, and she whirled around to face a wide-eyed Sam.

  “Do you think—” she began.

  “—that the Narrator stole the cheese and the dough recipe?” Sam finished grimly. “Yeah, I do. He seems to enjoy chaos.”

  Becca turned her eyes upward, waiting for the Narrator to defend its honor.

  “Pssst, I know you’re there!” she whispered.

  There was no answer, and there wouldn’t be one coming. It was a question for another time, in another book.

  “Look!” Juliet said excitedly. “Romeo’s moving!”

  “Urrrf,” Romeo said, stirring slightly. “What happened? Why is it dark? Tybalt blinded me!”

  “No, silly, it’s just tomato chunks that have crusted to your eyelashes,” Juliet said. The nurse handed her a cloth, and she wiped Romeo’s eyes clean.

  He blinked once, twice, and then stared deeply into Juliet’s eyes.

  “Uh, are you all right?” Sam asked.

  “Did I love till now?” Romeo practically sighed, not breaking eye contact with Juliet. “Forswear it, sight: I never saw true beauty till this night.”

  Juliet turned bright pink—the pink of a sunburned flamingo swimming in grapefruit juice. She gave him an earsplitting smile.

  “Wow,” Sam whispered to Becca. “He really is a poet. And he didn’t even—”

  “Don’t,” Becca said, clamping her hand over his mouth. “The tomato hit on the head must have knocked some poetry into him!”

  “Will you go to the Lotsa-Rella Ball with me tomorrow?” Romeo asked.

  Juliet’s face was now magenta. “I’d love to.” She beamed.

  Becca grinned at her stepbrother. “This is it! We can go home now! Thank you, Nurse.… Nurse?” She looked around the Verona square, but the nurse was nowhere to be seen. “Wow. Is she a superhero?”

  “Definitely,” Mercutio said. “I’ve seen her cape.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS—SORRY, WRONG PLAY

  Juliet helped Romeo to his feet, and even though he swayed a little, Becca thought he’d be okay.

  “Thank you,” Juliet said to Becca and Sam. “I’m not sure why you decided to get involved in an ancient family war, but I’m glad you did.”

  “We didn’t exactly decide to,” Sam said. “But I’m glad we helped.”

  “Me, too,” Becca said, and scratched Rufus’s ears. “Roo, too.”

  Woof! he agreed.

  “I’ll miss all of you,” Mercutio said, a tear coming to his eye. He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose with the sound of a hundred geese singing opera. “Although my nose won’t miss your dog.”

  “Either way,” Sam said to Romeo and Juliet, “the two of you can help your families make peace no matter what.”

  “I agree,” Juliet said. “If we can get them talking, convince them that they didn’t steal each other’s stuff, well, it’s a start. If a Montague and a Capulet can be friends, who knows what else we can change?”

  Panic rose in Becca’s chest. “Er—just friends?” she tried to ask casually.

  “Boyfriend and girlfriend,” Juliet amended.

  And this time it was Romeo’s turn to be pink.

  “Although”—Juliet looked at Romeo—“now that I think of it, it would be nice if we could attend our first party together in matching costumes.”

  “Er, I really don’t think that’s necessary—”

  Juliet snapped her fingers. “I know! We’ll take your cloak and cut it out in little stars!”

  “Stars?” Romeo said uncertainly. “I don’t know, that doesn’t sound very…”

  Sam prodded him in the side and leaned down to whisper to him. “Here’s some dating advice. Learn to go with the flow a little bit. Compromise. If it’s love, she’ll do the same for you. Who knows? You might even like it.”

  Romeo pondered for a moment and nodded. “I guess I can give it a try.”

  “Wise choice,” Becca said, and smiled at Sam. It turned out her stepbrother wasn’t so terrible after all. Only just a little bit horrible. “Good luck!”

  And after one last farewell belly rub for Rufus, Romeo and Juliet walked off together, hand in hand.

  “Well,” Mercutio said, sweeping them a bow. “I think this is where I make my exit. I have an appointment with Queen Mab.”

  “Who?” Sam asked.

  “She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate stone,” Mercutio said, hopping onto a barrel. “Also, she’s my cat, who is in need of feeding. Farewell!”

  “Well,” Becca said as they watched Mercutio’s receding back, “at last we can turn that final page.”

  Sam handed her backpack to her, and she quickly opened it. Even though it had been through several tomato fights, her pencils were still there, along with her notebook, and, of course, the large leather book with the words Romeo and Juliet on the cover.

  Carefully, she laid it on the ground. “I hope this works. Ready?”

  Sam grabbed Rufus’s collar. “You better believe it.”

  Becca took a deep breath … and flipped to the last page.

  “Woo-hoo!” Sam yelled just as loudly as he did while watching basketball tournaments. “MVP Becca!”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Most valuable player.” Sam frowned. “Though, in this case I guess it should MVR—most valuable reader!”

  Becca smiled. Perhaps Sam could be useful sometimes … when he wasn’t playing pranks or almost turning the world’s most famous love story into Sam and Juliet.

  “Hey,” she said as she reached to grab onto Rufus’s collar. “Do you want to read the last line with me?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  And together, they read: “For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

  Verona shimmered, trembled, and vanished in a tornado of words.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  IF I NEVER SEE A TOMATO AGAIN …

  Kyle’s living room reappeared around them, shimmery at first, as though they were seeing it through a bubble. Then there was a pop! and the world came into focus—along with Kyle, Halley, and Kyle’s baby brother, Gabe. Or Gross Gabe, as Kyle never failed to call him. The light coming in the windows was just the way they’d left it, like all of their time in Verona had been only a few seconds.

  “You made it!” Kyle and Becca both said at once.

  “Where were you?” Sam and Halley asked together.

  “That was crazy,” everyone said in unison.

  “Did you get sucked into a book, too?” asked Becca.

  “Yes! Where did your magic trap book take you?” Kyle said.

  Becca took a deep breath and gave them a brief overview of what had just happened to them.

  “Whoa,” Kyle said. “I don’t know if that sounds better or worse than a library full of skulls, an insane king wh
o likes dropping people in soup, and a sad prince in a castle that smells like a pizza-with-everything left under a couch for a year.”

  Becca thought both sounded pretty bad. Or pretty exciting, depending on how you looked at it.

  “Hey, Roodly Roo!” Halley said, bending down to deliver a flurry of pets to Rufus’s head. “I bet you had a tough time, huh, pups?”

  “He’ll probably never eat a tomato again,” Sam said.

  Kyle raised an eyebrow.

  “We’ll tell you all about it,” Sam added. “In fact, we should definitely, absolutely all sit down and go over whatever just happened in more detail, and maybe figure out what to do next.”

  Rufus and Gabe started rolling around together, as if getting sucked into four-hundred-year-old plays was as much part of their daily life as eating breakfast.

  “Now that that’s over,” Becca said to Sam, “I can finally return that library book. Then Kyle and I can send in the fee for our contest entry. I hope I get there in time.” Although staying in Hawaii and ditching everyone else forever was no longer part of her plan if they won.

  “I can run it to the library for you,” Sam said. “I’m fast.”

  “Okay.” Becca nodded. “As long as you promise this won’t involve any water buckets or tomatoes.”

  “Ugh,” Sam said. “I bet we both picked up a tomato allergy after all that. Anyway, even if the library’s closed, I … have a key.”

  “You what?” Becca said. “Why?”

  “Well, sixth grade has a community service requirement, and I thought volunteering at the library might be cool. The librarians have always been super nice to me.” He shrugged. “If my basketball career doesn’t work out, I think I might want to be one when I grow up. Actually, even if my basketball career does work out, I still want to be a librarian.”

  Becca smiled and shook her head. “Wow, Sam. Between this and being eaten by a book, I’m not sure what’s surprised me more today. Thanks.”