You knew Romeo Montague’s story. He had attempted suicide a while back. He had made a pact with his girlfriends. She was dying from cancer and when she passed, he tried to join her.
Needless to say, he was unsuccessful.
But as the entire school had recently discovered, he was also abused by his father. His father was a big wig politician. He had gone unpunished.
You caught Romeo often staring at you. You often gave a smile and wave in return. But whenever you walked over to start a conversation, he’d disappear.
You were ready to head home when you heard some kids cheering.
You went to investigate and saw a group of jocks beating up someone. A few steps closer and you could see that it was Romeo.
You went up to them in anger and disgust.
“Leave him alone,” you said loudly.
They stopped and looked at you.
“How adorable,” one chuckled.
“You know what else is adorable?” you sneered, “The fact that I can put ou on the bench all season.”
“Let’s see that,” he mocked, charging at you.
You side-stepped and hit his shoulder with your elbow as he fell to the ground. You heard the pop, which meant you had dislocated it.
“Have fun popping that back into place. And enjoy your cast,” you said, watching his friends crowd around him.
You offered Romeo a hand and he took it. You pulled him to his feet with ease.
“Where’d you learn to do that, Y/N?” he asked.
“Biology class. We studied human anatomy last semester,” you smiled.
You noticed he had a lot of bruises and cuts. they had been beating him up for a while.
“I can fix those up for you if you like,” you said.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” he said.
“Come with me,” you said, taking his hand.
You took him back to your house and led him to your room.
He decided to ask you questions while you fixed him up.
“Where are your parents?”
“Work.”
“Why did you help me?”
“No one should be subjected to physical harm from incompetent kids.”
“But why me?”
“Because you don’t deserve to be hurt anymore than you already have.”
“Why are you talking to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be talking to you?”
“Would it be weird if I said I loved you?”
That one caught you off guard.
“Uh, what?” you asked.
“So you can break a kid’s shoulder but you can’t understand when someone likes you?” he smirked, standing up.
You got nervous.
“I merely dislocated it,” you stammered.
He pressed his lips to yours and you kissed back.
It was like Shakespeare once said, “The course of love never did run smooth.”