“Like, oh-em-gee, it’s that Romeo loser again,” She pointed across the courtyard to the gangly figure approaching the two. “He like, totally likes you, Julie.”
“Ugh! He is like, such a geek.” Her friend replied.
Romeo was nearly halfway to them, and taking a step forward, tripped on his other foot. They both started to laugh.
After many delays, the creature known as Romeo had finally reached the girls. We will take the time to describe him now, while he thinks of something to say.
His face resembles a small gray moon, pockmarked with craters of all colors in a vague, pus-filled rainbow. His hair is oily enough to fry a potato. The rest of him is akin to a small rodent that you would find living under the house and slowly nibbling away the foundation.
It looks like he’s ready to speak.
“Howfore dost this morn find thee, my sweet Juliet?”
Oh yes, and he talks oddly.
Juliet stared at him. “What?”
“I mean to ask if thee be well, O peach-breasted archangel.”
She looked at him in horror. “What—”
“I think it’s time you get going, Romeo!” Her friend hollered. He stared at her for a few seconds longer than comfortable, turned smartly around and lurched off.
“…Like, what did he call me?”
“I have like, no idea.”


Romeo was not the sort to be discouraged at one failure. Or twenty, for that matter. He stumbled down a sideway, only vaguely aware of where he was. His mind was too busy thinking about Juliet.
I wonder what my sweet doth dream of, tonight. No doubt ‘tis of me, her love, her romance, her Romeo. I must see her! I must gaze upon her beauteous form! Her grace! Her voice, that which can bring a hundred men to their knees!
I must see her tonight!
With a faint smile, he flopped his way to her house.


Juliet was in fact dreaming about a floating pizza that played the ukulele when she heard something small hit her window. She pulled her head up from the mountain of pillows and stared at the window.
It was a rectangular hole cut in the face of her wall, with a sheet of glass stuck between. She looked at it for another few seconds, and shoved her head back down. Immediately after, the window clicked again.
“Mrruuughhrr!” she replied.
It clicked, more persistently.
“Rrghuhmmm,” she offered.
The window clicked once again, louder and very persuasive.
She sighed, and rolled off her bed. A moment later, she pulled herself up, flicked on her lamp, and stalked over to the window.
“Like, oh my god.”
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is—” Juliet screamed.
“Romeo! Like what are you doing outside my house! GO AWAY!”
“Juliet, my sweet, my love, my passion, surely thou jest! Do allow me passage into thine home!”
“Get out you freak! Leave me alone!”
Romeo looked at her. “Ah, I understand. Thou ist not ready! Go, love, make thineself suitable. I shall wait for thee!”
Juliet screamed at him again, and closed her window, locked it, ran downstairs and made sure the front door was locked too, then checked the back door and every other window in the house... and went back to bed.


Her mother woke her up that morning.
“Julie, come quick. Quick!” her mother whispered.
“Hnguuh?” she queried.
“There’s someone sleeping outside!”
Juliet went pale. “What?”
She got up and looked cautiously outside her window. It was Romeo, dozing lightly. A bird had made a nest on his face.
“I told you to go home and stop bothering me!” He grunted, and rolled over, causing the bird’s new house irreparable damage that was definitely not covered by its insurance.
She sighed and closed the window to go downstairs.
When she had gotten downstairs, Romeo was in another position, further demolishing the nest, and the owner of the pile of twigs was trying to remove his head.
Juliet kicked him in the ribs. “Get up, loser.”
“Eh? Wha?”
“Get off my property or I’ll call the police.”
Romeo rubbed his eyes, and looked at her with his mouth half-open.
“Ah, ‘tis a beauty to wake up and see thine visage.”
“Leave. Now.” It was not a suggestion. Still groggy from sleep, Romeo shrugged and rolled onto his stomach. Juliet sighed, bent down and picked him up by his shoulders. He smiled.
“Thou ist so eager to see me!”
“Go home!”
He ignored her. “Wilt thou accompany me to thine dance?” Juliet paused.
“Huh?”
“The Capulet ball, my sweet.”
Oh. The party she was having.
“You’re not invited.”
He smiled at her again. “Thou jest! I shall arrive by the hour of nine.”
She covered her face with her palm. “If you show up I’ll throw you out myself,” and walked rigidly back inside.


The bird placed the last twig into its new nest, with some satisfaction. Blasted humans, thinking they own the place. Think they can just roll over on anything they want to, doesn’t matter how much time or effort the inhabitant put into making it. Huh!


Twelve hours later, Romeo knocked on the door. “I hath arrived!”
Several minutes later, the door was still closed. He tried knocking again. Nothing. After some inner debate, he opened the door on his own and stepped inside. Immediately upon entering, Romeo was hit by the music. And then by the sheer volume of people – it looked like she had invited everyone she had ever met, and told them to invite everyone they had ever met.
Except him.
He shook his head violently to get the thought out of his mind. Ridiculous! It was a joke, nothing more. Hah, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had been staring out her window watching for him.
“Where art thou, my sweet Juliet?” he shouted amidst the noise. There was still no reply. It was as if he was not there. Without anything better to do, he strangely gravitated to the punch bowl, as an obscure urge found in all socially-unacceptable organisms fired off in his mind.
Romeo poured himself a cup, poured another cup when he was knocked into and spilled it on himself, and peered around for Juliet. She was nowhere to be seen.
He stared at the cup sadly, and took a sip.
“Here’s to my love.”