Why I Hate Romeo and Juliet

Why I Hate Romeo and Juliet - Chapter Twenty-One

Hey :)

So, I have to apologize for the cliffhanger in the last chapter. But hey! I didn't keep you waiting too long, did I?

 Honestly, I hate cliffhangers when I'm reading a story. It's a good writing technique because it keeps a reader hooked, if done right,  but it just makes you so frustrated! Haha!

But it was necessary, because if that chapter hadn't ended that way, this one wouldn't be here today! It seems like I wrote this a thousand times, and each time, it went a different way. But I finally settled on one, and I'm pretty pleased with it. What do you think? :)

-jennaxxx

Chapter Twenty-One

“You look awful.”

“Shut up.” I mumbled rudely, getting into his car. Truth was: I spent half the night dreaming up morbid scenes of what I was going to do to get back at Erick, and the other half worrying my head off.

“Why am I giving you a ride to school again?”

“Because I’m mad,” I snapped, still fuming from last night.

“Right. Why are you mad, again?”

“SPENCER!” I shouted. “You don’t just ask someone who’s as angry as I clearly am why they’re mad!”

“But I’m giving you a ride,” he smiled sheepishly.

“I’ll tell you later,” I grumbled, and then sighed. Here was Spencer, who had gone out of his way to pick me up this morning, and me, who was snapping at him. “And I’m really sorry. I just need to bitch at someone.”

“By all means,” he grinned. “You can bitch at me if you want.”

“I can’t do that,” I tried to force the smile off my face as I ruffled his hair. The glare he was giving me was fantastic. “You’re just too gosh-darn cute!”

“I’m only not going to say anything because you said I was cute.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t guys hate being called cute?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “But it’s better than ‘hideous,’ isn’t it?”

“When did you get so philosophical,” I mused, staring out the window.

“That’s hardly philosophical, Hazel.”

“Shut up,” I winced.

“Why?” He asked, not missing a beat. “You’re supposed to talk to the driver if you’re sitting in the passenger seat. What if I fall asleep at the wheel?”

“Spencer,” I turned to him and said, with my voice restrained. “It’s six in the morning. Do you need to talk to me right now?”

“It’s seven in the morning,” he replied, nodding. “And yes.”

“Sucks for you then,” I smirked, and looked back out the window.

“Who are you mad at anyways?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk,” I whined. What doesn’t this boy get about that?

“Sucks for you then.”

“You’re annoying,” I grumbled.

“Stop avoiding the question, Haze,” he said in his warning voice.

I bit my lip. Should I tell him? I mean…it’s weird. It’s really weird.

Aw, hell. It’s not like everyone wouldn’t find out anyways. I wouldn’t tell him everything, just yet.