Shakespeare got it Wrong

Chapter 13- Theo POV

Shakespeare got it wrong- chapter 13

Theo POV

I pull on my blue school shirt and the customary grey school shorts as well as my black converse.  I grab my school bag and shove in a football, my football boots, my wallet and as an afterthought.. My books I need for today. I am actually trying in school this year. I don’t want to be the typical dumbass jock, which rules the sports team but fails in academics. Last year, I wouldn’t have even bothered putting in my school books, but since I graduate this year I think it is time to show those nerds what I can do. Plus Juliet needs a boyfriend that isn’t as dumb as dirt and can get a good job to buy her nice presents.

I shove my bag over my shoulder and stroll into the kitchen, I can smell the morning coffee that my mother insists on having, she says it lifts the soul and prepares you for awakening or something like that. I drop my bag onto the worn wooden floor of the kitchen, next to the bar and sit on a wooden stool that I made in woodwork class last year.

“Morning” I grunt out and my mother turns around with a box of cornflakes in her hand. She slaps them onto the table and sits down next to me. She wraps her tired old hands around the coffee mug and watches me while I eat. I can feel her eyes burning into the top of my head as I bend over my cereal and shovel it in, the quicker I am outer here, I will be able to avoid the conversation that I can feel hanging in the air.

“So, did you have a nice date the other night? What was it, two days ago and you still haven’t told me about it? Why won’t you bring her over? I would love to meet her. What’s her name?” She blurts out in a long line of chattering.

I look up and roll my eyes; my mother loves to know about my love life. I lick my bowl clean and stand to wash it up. She looks at me with her piercing blue eyes and nudges me to sit back down.

“Fine. It was great I really enjoyed myself; I haven’t talked to you because you have been working heaps and hanging out with that loser what’s his face? Bob?” I say as I rub my eyes. I don’t have time for this. I’ll miss the train.

“Bill.”

“What?” I ask, where is this conversation heading. That’s what I love about Juliet; she knows exactly how to have a good conversation with me. God, I am thinking about Juliet again.

“Bill, that’s his name, and he is nice when you get to meet him.” She rubs her wrinkled hands up her long brown arms, her curly brown hair is falling out of her bun, I feel sorry for her. Great now I feel like a complete dick.

“Sorry mum, what would you like to know?” I force a smile onto my face. Her eyes brighten up and she drags her chair in closer to the table.

“How much do you like this girl?” she asks.

How much do I like Juliet? Awfully much. Almost too much. I am obsessed with her. I think about her every moment I can. I dream about her. Heck, even on our date my little mate was craving her. I want to breathe her in and consume her at every waking moment of my life.

“I…….. Love her.” I say, almost choking at the realisation. I love her, I love Juliet. Not like, love.

My mother’s eyes start tearing up as she smiles a toothy grin.

“Don’t cry” I say as I reach across to give her a tissue.

“I’m not, I am just so happy, my little Theodore Montague loves a girl!” she sobs slightly and I cringe. Well this is getting awkward. I stand up and grab my bag and pull out my car keys. I have already missed the train and will have to drive, otherwise I will miss school, and as I said, I am aiming for at least a C in some subjects.