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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴘɪʟᴏᴛ ꒱


❝ ARE YOU AWARE THAT WE'RE
ONLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD? ❞

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Juliet felt a gentle tug on one of her braids as Shawn sat down next to her. "Hey Julie."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Hey Shawnie. You literally just walked me to school."

The boy shrugged. "What, I can't miss my wife after a minute?"

"Cookie partner," she reminded him dutifully.

"Same thing," he answered easily.

Cory joined them then. "He's a teacher, man. Keep ragging on him and he'll make your whole sixth grade miserable," Shawn said, having seen his exchange with Feeny.

"I'm gonna be miserable anyhow. At least I'm taking him with me."

Juliet tugged Shawn's open textbook in front of her. "Hey!"

"What? It's not like you're gonna use it right now anyway," she said as  she flipped through the pages.

"'Can I borrow your book, Shawn?'" the boy said in a slightly falsetto voice before he changed back to his own. "'Yes, of course my loving wife. I would never deny you anything!' 'Thank you! You're the best husband I could ask for!' 'No problem, don't mention it.' Would have been a very easy conversation, Julie."

She shrugged. "Don't mention it?' Alright, I won't." The girl shot him an amused smile and he rolled his eyes.

"You're lucky I love you."

"So, how late did you stay up last night?" Nicholas asked as he spoke for the first time.

"Monologue."

"Monologue, First Guess."

"Monologue, First Guess, Bad Sketch."

"Monologue, First Guess, Bad Sketch, Funny Zoo Animal," Cory said importantly.

"Monologue, First Guess, Bad Sketch, Funny Zoo Animal." Nicholas paused. "Steve Lawrence."

"Woah, Steve Lawrence?"

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Boys."

As the bell rang and they stood, Shawn glanced back at the redhead. "And how many books did you read last night, Julie?"

She grinned. "Four."

He shot her a mock-disappointed look. "That's nowhere near your record. I expect better from you."

The girl gave a little giggle as they left the cafeteria. "I'll do better tonight, promise."

"Four hours 'til lunch," Cory commented with a sigh.

🌎🌎🌎

"She's dead, Mr. Bornihay," Mr. Feeny said as he gestured to the girl lying on his desk. "Pick up the knife and kill yourself."

"Come on, Mr. Feeny," Nicholas said. "You and I both know she's not really dead. May I please stab her a few times just to make sure?"

She rose from the desk and grabbed the knife. "Hey— you touch me with that knife, you better kill me the first time."

"Mr. Feeny. . ."

"Alright, alright."

Juliet watched the action up front while her two best friends clearly weren't focusing. She didn't even have to look to know that Cory was listening to the ball game and Shawn's attention had been caught by what his friend was doing. Baseball was completely over her head and she never understood it no matter how many times Shawn explained it to her.

As she suspected, Mr. Feeny caught on and made his way to the back. "What's this, Mr. Matthews?"

"Huh? Huh? What did you say, Mr. Feeny? You took my hearing aid!"

The teacher raised the earpiece to listen. "Smoltz delivers, Dalton swings, oh he got a piece of that one! It's a long drive deep to the center. Otis Nixon, back, back to the warning track, climbs up the wall and—" He shut off the device, earning groans from the students.

"Mr. Matthews, Romeo and Juliet is Shakespeare's ultimate test of love between a man and a woman."

In the front of the class, Nicholas began to yell: "Mr. Feeny! Mr. Feeny! Help, help!"

He rushed quickly to his desk and removed the knife from the girl's hand. "Thank you. Thank you Miss Kincaid for that— uh, vigorous interpretation."

"Mr. Matthews," he said, returning his attention to the boy. "You do not listen to the ball game in the middle of my class."

Cory stood. "Mr. Feeny, who cares about some guy who killed himself for some dumb girl?"

Juliet stood as well. "I have to agree with Cory on this one, Mr. Feeny. Being named after said dumb girl, I can say that I would never kill myself for a random guy. Even then, d'you know what would've saved Shakespeare's Juliet? Communication!"

"The tragedy here, Mr. Matthews and Miss Capelwood, is not about some dumb girl or the guy who kills himself because of her. It's about the all-consuming power of love and the inevitability of its influence in each of our lives."

That earned him blank looks from both of his students. "Mr. Feeny," Cory asked, "are you aware that we're only eleven years old?"

"Juliet still should've been like 'hey! I'm not dead!"

Mr. Feeny addressed Cory first: "are you aware that you have detention Friday afternoon?"

"No, actually I did not know that." He sat down with a sigh.

"Miss Capelwood, when you are struck by the grip of passion and the ache of longing to be with the one you love, tell me then whether you have the words to save them."

Juliet sat down with a heavy thump. Mr. Feeny made no sense sometimes, even to a well-read and reasonably intelligent person.

🌎🌎🌎

After dropping Cory off at his house, Juliet and Shawn walked the rest of the way to their own homes. Along the way, the redhead hopped up on one of the low-lying brick fences and stuck out her arms. She then put one foot in front of the other as she balanced carefully along the narrow ledge. Shawn stayed next to her, keeping an eye out in case she fell.

"What d'you think Mr. Feeny meant by grip of passion? Or ache of longing?" she asked.

Shawn shrugged. "Who cares? It's Feeny. I wanted to hear the rest of the ball game."

"C'mon Shawnie, think for a minute. I mean, Juliet's dumb— I won't argue that but Feeny isn't, even if you don't like him."

The boy sighed. "We're only eleven, Julie. How on Earth are we supposed to understand?"

"Well, he wouldn't be teaching it to us if we shouldn't."

"You're the smart one here. What do the books say?"

The wall came to an end and she jumped down to walk next to her best friend. "Well you're the one who always claims to love me so I thought you'd know."

That startled him. "I do love you Julie, but I barely understand what Feeny says in the first place."

She shot him a smile. "Well, then I guess it's one of those secrets of the universe we'll just have to figure out when we're older. Race you home!"

As she took off, Shawn watched her red braids bounce with her quick steps. He knew he didn't have to wait to figure it out.

He shook off the thought and picked up his speed until he'd nearly caught up with the girl. She gave an excited squeal and pushed herself even faster, causing him to laugh. "I'm gonna win!"

"I might just let you!"

"Don't you dare, Shawnie! That's cheating!"

🌎🌎🌎

Juliet wrinkled her nose at the cafeteria food. Surely it should at least be edible, right?

"Well, mine's got fuzz," Shawn announced.

"Mine's got lips."

"Mine's got toes, I think."

The boy peered over to look at the redhead's plate. "It could be fingers."

"Hey, bagman. Rough life being an only child, huh?"

She sighed. What she wouldn't give for Oreos right now.

"Yeah. Rougher life being an orphan, which is what I am as of last night."

"What happened?" Anything to take her mind off her plate in front of her.

"I dumped my family and my family dumped me," Cory explained. "It was mutual. They're keeping the house."

"Well, we're here for you, Cor," Shawn said. Juliet nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, you're my new brothers and sister. Hey, how about we go to the game Friday night?"

"I thought it was sold out?" Nicholas asked.

"It is. So we go down early. There's always guys with extra tickets."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "And how do you expect to pay for them?"

Cory glared at her. "No need to be a buzzkill, Jules."

"Don't speak to my wife like that," Shawn said sternly. "Besides, don't you have detention Friday?"

"Ah, don't worry about detention. I can handle Feeny. Feeny loves me."

"Feeny hates you," Juliet corrected him.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, it's one of the two. We'll see who's right." Cory stood and made his way to Feeny's table.

"Here we go," the redhead said. She pushed her food away and leaned against Shawn's shoulder instead. The boy's face broke into a smile and he shifted so that his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"This should be good," he agreed. "You're usually right, anyway."

"Usually?"

"Sorry. Always."

"Much better."

Cory turned to shout his answer: "hates me!"

[edited apr. 2022]