Romy and Juliet Read online

  “Thanks?” Romy replied uncertainly.

  “Now, I hear you’re teaching at the high school, is that right?”

  “News spreads fast.”

  The mayor laughed. “You should know! This is Sterling, darling! Nothing stays secret for long. I was thinking you could help with a few initiatives we’re trying to get started—” A woman tapped him on the shoulder. “Ah, looks like I’m being paged to the dance floor. Save one for me, will you?”

  “Sure thing,” Romy said. She spun around, exhaling. “I need a drink.”

  “I can help with that,” said a masculine voice behind her that was vaguely recognizable. She spun around. A tall guy stood there with dark hair and a black mask obscuring the features above his mouth. He was holding two cocktails. “I thought we could drink these together and then hit the dance floor.”

  “Who are you?” Romy asked.

  A small smile upturned the corners of his mouth. “You don’t remember?”

  Romy sighed. “Yeah, I don’t care.” She pushed past him roughly and elbowed her way to the table covered in clear plastic cups filled with fizzing pink punch. She grabbed two and gulped them down, her head clearing instantly from the sharp bite of the alcohol. This was Sterling Surprise, the famous punch that basically had every alcohol you could imagine floating in it. She picked up two more cups and downed those as well.

  The bartender laughed. “Easy, there.”

  “I grew up on this stuff. I think I can handle it,” Romy retorted, picking up one more cup and spinning around. She closed her eyes as she felt the alcohol enter her bloodstream. Everything seemed at once clearer yet also a bit more far away.

  “Romy, honey!”

  Romy bit her lip and exhaled through her nose. It was her mother, probably coming to fuss at her for not putting on the body shaping underwear. She opened her eyes and her mother was standing there looking like a goddess, her hair piled to the heavens and a hint of gold eyeliner glinting above the thick, dark lashes she’d paid good money for.

  “You look…”

  “Let me guess? Like an eggplant?” Romy finished for her. “Mother, I really don’t have the patience for you to criticize me tonight, not with all these people.” Someone bumped into her and she was forced to step closer to her mom.

  “Well, you know, I do have this personal trainer you could see…”

  The alcohol had now hit her full force and she smiled. “I don’t need to listen to this shit. Not tonight. It’s a celebration, isn’t it? Of this lovely town?” She said the last two words as sarcastically and cruelly as she could possibly manage. Her mother had a look of poison on her face, and Romy knew she’d pay for this later. She didn’t care.

  Romy turned around into the crowd and then froze in her tracks. She was facing the front doors of the barn. A woman had just walked in wearing a diaphanous, baby pink dress. Tiny rhinestones glinted in the low light of the barn. The music seemed to fade behind her, and the people jostling at her elbow disappeared.

  The woman was clutching a small gold glitter wristlet, a gold-leaf mask with white feathers on her face, her full lips a deep red.

  “Romy? Romy? Romy?” A voice to her right repeated her name over and over.

  “Not now,” she said, pushing away whoever was at her elbow. “Hold my drink.” She held it out and someone grabbed it from her; she didn’t care who it was. She had one thing on her mind. She wanted to dance, and she wanted to dance with her.

  Romy walked over to the woman in pink, feeling like she was gliding. “Hey.”

  The woman in pink pursed her lips. “Hi…”

  “I want to dance with you,” Romy said.

  The woman laughed. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am.”

  “Why?”

  Romy shrugged. “I’ve always been good at knowing what I want.”

  “Okay,” the woman said. “We’re probably going to cause a bit of a scandal.”

  “I literally don’t care.” Romy held out her hand and pulled her to the dance floor. The song switched to a slow Dixie Chicks ballad, and Romy wrapped her arm around the woman’s waist. “Come here often?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “But you must be from here,” Romy said. “The Sterling Founder’s Day celebrations aren’t that well known.”

  The woman laughed, tilting her head back. Romy could just make out a spray of freckles across her cheeks. “You’re trying to figure out who I am. I think that sort of messes up the point of a masquerade, right?”

  “Fair point,” Romy replied, spinning the woman around the dance floor.

  “You assumed I was gay, though.”

  “What?”

  “You’re a woman. You asked another woman to dance. This is Sterling, like you pointed out. The odds of someone else being queer aren’t too high.”

  “I had a good feeling,” Romy said with a smile. Her cheek was itching under the mask. She stared into the woman’s eyes; they were a gorgeous brown with gold flecks in them that twinkled under the low lights. “I also know a beautiful woman when I see her. I couldn’t resist.” She tilted her head. “I also feel like I’ve seen you before.”

  “I’m getting the same feeling,” the woman replied with a smile. The song ended and she pulled away, clearing her throat. “Thanks.”

  “I guess I’ll see you around?” Romy called after her.

  The woman spun on the spot. “Maybe so.” Then she disappeared into the crowd.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Juliet’s head spun from her dance with the mystery woman. She wouldn’t have guessed it before the party began, but in the dim light the masks really obscured people’s identities. Her heart pounded from the adrenaline. She wandered over to one of the bar tables and scooped up a cup of punch.

  It was so strong she could taste the alcohol before the liquid met her lips. She coughed a bit and turned around to observe the room around her. The plan had been to make an appearance, have a drink, and then leave. She certainly hadn’t expected to dance with anyone.

  She squinted her eyes; she thought she recognized the turquoise gown a woman was wearing a few feet away. “Jessica?”

  The woman spun around, her brown skin glowing in the light. “Yeah?”

  Juliet lifted her mask. “It’s me. Jules. I recognized your dress from prom!”

  “Oh. My God!” Jessica dashed over and threw her arms around Juliet. “I haven’t seen you since graduation! What are you doing here?” She paused and threw her hand over her mouth. “Your mother! I heard. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were here, though? Don’t you live in New York? Okay, okay. I’m not letting you talk.”

  Juliet laughed. “Yeah, I’m only in town for a few days. I just needed to check on my mom. She’s doing fine, by the way. Still in the hospital but…” Juliet waved a hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter. How are you? I can’t believe you’re still here in Sterling!”

  Jessica grinned. “Yeah, well, it’s funny how that happens, isn’t it? I’m actually living a few blocks from here in the old fire station. It’s been converted into lofts. I have two floors for my paintings.”

  “Two floors! That’s incredible! So, you’re doing well?”

  She shrugged and smiled. “You could say so. I heard you’re a big shot lawyer, is that right?”

  “Yeah,” Juliet said. “Not quite as exciting as being a glamorous artist.”

  “Please. I’m in paint-splattered overalls and head wraps nine days out of the week. The only reason I’m in my old prom dress is because we weren’t sure we were even coming to this thing.”

  “We?”

  Just then, a tall man with a blinding white smile peeking out from under a feather-covered mask walked up. He pulled the mask off and rubbed his face. “God, I’m sweating. Babe, you want something to eat? The caterer is late and I was thinking of calling Bo’s to see if they’d deliver some burgers.” He paused and looked at Juliet. “Oh, hi. I’m Mark—”

  “Mark Darling,” Juliet finished, trying not to stare. “You’re…the captain of the football team and prom king. Hi, I’m Juliet Hudson.”

  Mark smiled and shook her hand. “I can’t say I remember you from high school.”

  “You wouldn’t, I was the weird girl in the corner of the classroom reading anime under the desk.”

  Jessica giggled. “Yeah, we’ll take a bag of burgers and fries. Maybe some milkshakes? We can eat them out back.”

  Mark kissed her on the cheek and turned to go. But he paused, recognition dawning on his handsome face. “Hudson—are you Bo Hudson’s granddaughter?”

  “Yep,” Juliet replied sheepishly. “My family owns the diner you’re about to order food from.”

  Mark tilted his head, staring at her. Juliet felt uncomfortable. “Hang on a second—were you just out there dancing a few songs ago? With Romy Mitchell?”

  Juliet’s smile faltered. “Excuse me?”

  He stared at her gown. “You were. You totally were. Everyone’s talking about it. Small towns, you know. Not that I need to tell you that. You grew up here, too.” He squeezed Jessica’s hand. “I’ll be back in twenty.” He stepped away, leaving the two women alone.

  Jessica frowned. She took Juliet’s elbow and pulled her over to an empty corner where the music wasn’t blaring. “Did he just say you danced with Romy Mitchell?”

  Juliet took her mask off, suddenly feeling like her grandmother’s vintage gown was strangling her. “I can’t breathe—I need air. Air. I need air.”

  Jessica steered Juliet past the empty kitchens and into one of the darkened classrooms. She shut the door behind them, dulling the noise of the party. Juliet collapsed into one of the desks, fanning herself. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I danced with Romy Mitchell.”

  Jessica
looked hastily around the room and poured her a cup of cold water out of the cooler. “You’re fine, just breathe.”

  “I danced with a woman in front of the entire town. A woman who happens to be a part of the family who nearly drove my family out of business.”

  “I was—I must have been in the bathroom; otherwise I would have said something if I had known—”

  Juliet downed the water gratefully. “It’s not your fault. It’s fine. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, Jules.” Jessica sat down next to her, pulling off her own mask. “It’s okay to not be fine.”

  “Why would she do that to me? As a joke?”

  “She might not have known it was you—I mean, I didn’t recognize you and I was your best friend for fourteen years.”

  “It would be just like her, though. I mean, she’s not even gay, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s she even doing here?” Juliet asked. “Last I saw on one of my drunken Facebook stalkings, she was living in like, a commune somewhere in the ass end of nowhere.”

  Jessica opened her mouth to say something but shut it.

  “What? Are you judging me?”

  Jessica held up her hands. “No, not at all. I just didn’t realize you were still…following her.”

  “I’m not following her.” She paused. “I’m also not not following her. But we’re not friends on Facebook or anything. Just—hey! You know what? You’re dating the prom king, okay? You have very, very little room to talk.”

  “We’re actually engaged,” Jessica muttered.

  Juliet gaped at her. “What? You remember what he did to people like us in high school?”

  “People change, Jules. You can’t possibly hold a sixteen-year-old accountable for shitty behavior for the rest of their damn lives, can you?”

  “Watch me,” Juliet said, hopping off the desk and taking a few steadying deep breaths. “I need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Jules!”

  But Juliet ignored her, walking out of the classroom and out the back door of the barn, past a couple of people making out against the wall. “Wear a condom,” she muttered, pushing open the door into the humid evening. A breeze had mercifully cropped up as she picked her way across the rock-strewn grass around the side of the building, where she ran smack into Mark holding three grease-soaked paper bags that smelled like heaven.

  “Hey, Juliet!” Mark said. “Come here. I ran into a few more people who were hungry inside. We’ve got a seat for you. Have you seen Jess?”

  “I—”

  “I’m here, Mark,” Jessica announced, grabbing Juliet by the arm and dragging her once again towards a place she didn’t want to be. “Sit. Eat. You’re in town for like three seconds and I’m not going to tolerate you spending zero time with me.”

  Juliet groaned but followed her to the brand-new picnic tables (undoubtedly funded by the Mitchell family, Juliet thought bitterly) covered in dripping citronella candles. The sun had entirely set and the cicadas blared their buzzing tune. Mark dumped the fries onto a paper plate and slid it to the middle of the table. Juliet vaguely recognized the others who were gathered there as people who had shoved her into lockers before freshman gym class.

  One of the guys was clearly drunk and staring at her cleavage. She rolled her eyes and sat down on the far side of the table with her back to the barn, Jessica on her left.

  “Bet you’re sick of this food, huh?” Mark asked, passing Juliet a burger.

  “Not really, I actually haven’t eaten at Bo’s since high school,” she retorted.

  The drunk guy procured beers out of nowhere, popping them open using the wooden edge of the picnic table. He passed her one and she took it, even though she hated beer. Being drunk might be the only way to get through the rest of the evening. She downed the beer in under ninety seconds and cracked open another while Mark started talking about some business meeting he’d had earlier that week in Austin. He was sitting directly across from her, and Juliet couldn’t help but stare at him.

  He was exactly as handsome as he was in high school; maybe even more so. She didn’t need to be into guys to recognize that. He looked like a model. And now he was going to marry her childhood best friend.

  She really wasn’t listening to what he was saying, instead shoving salty, hot fries into her mouth between swigs of beer. She heard the grass rustle behind her, but Jessica was attempting a subject change and Juliet was trying to focus on her words.

  “Romy! Have a seat!” Mark said, standing up quickly as Romy Mitchell dragged her designer dress through the grass and sat down, the deep purple tulle skirt puffing up around her. Romy was determinedly looking anywhere but at Juliet.

  Juliet felt her entire body thrumming in Romy’s presence.

  “This is like high school all over again, isn’t it?” the drunk guy asked.

  “Not exactly,” Juliet said loudly. “I don’t think Jess and I would have been invited to the popular kids’ table, would we?”

  There was an uncomfortable silence as her words landed.

  “Oh, come on now,” Juliet said, feeling the alcohol buzz hitting her head sharply. “We’re all adults here, aren’t we?” She grabbed a wad of napkins and wiped her greasy fingers, balling up the thin brown paper and throwing it onto the middle of the table. “I’m a successful lawyer in New York City. And Jess is an incredible painter.” She turned to the drunk guy. “And I’m sure you’re really, really great at day drinking.”

  “Jules,” Jessica said, tugging on her dress.

  “No, no,” Juliet said. “I’m not done. You all—” She pointed at the others at the table, steadying herself with one hand. She was tipsier than she’d thought. “You’re all probably doing really well running your parents’ businesses into the ground. And you—” She pointed at Romy, who was no longer avoiding her eye line. “You’re probably an absolute superstar when it comes to squandering your inheritance. Hm? Am I getting close?”

  Romy’s face was frozen into a small smile.

  “Right,” Juliet said, her bravado leaving her. “I’m just going to see myself out.” She stood up from the table, her mind racing as she walked as quickly as possible from the scene she’d just caused.

  As she walked, the memories came rushing back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

  FRESHMAN YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL

  Juliet hopped on her bicycle, her heavy backpack threatening to tip her over onto the dirt driveway of her house. She snapped on her helmet, getting the straps twisted in the two braids on either side of her head.

  “Dammit,” she whispered to herself, taking a moment to disentangle her hair. A crack of thunder rolled overhead, and she could smell the cinnamon scent of earth in the air. The birds had gone quiet. A storm was coming. She glanced behind her; her brother had left hours ago—it was possible he had never come home at all from his girlfriend’s house—her mother was waist-deep in spreadsheets in the den, her grandmother was in Austin visiting friends, and her father had taken the car into work hours ago.

  She was on her own. She pedaled as fast as she could, her Walkman CD player bouncing against her hip, the sounds of Destiny’s Child in her right ear. She liked to leave her left ear open to traffic sounds. She was rolling along, only a mile from school, when she hit a rock and tumbled onto the ground. Her hand stung and her Walkman bounced to the ground, the music grinding to a halt. There were no cars passing to see her fall, thankfully. She checked her bicycle.

  The front tire was flat; she had no extra tube on hand. It had been on her list to ask her dad, but she always hated him having to spend any money on her. Tears stung her eyes mostly from frustration, and the weather echoed her emotion; a fat raindrop landed squarely on her nose. She stashed her broken Walkman in her backpack and heaved her bicycle upright, rolling it slowly along the shoulder of the road. The raindrops picked up in intensity as she kept her head down. She heard the sound of a car approaching but didn’t turn around as it slowed.

  She glanced to the side and saw it was a shiny black Mercedes with dark window tint. The front passenger window rolled down and an older man smiled at her. “Do you need a ride to the high school?”