Page 42 of The Surprise
“But we decided that we’ll do better.”
“Why don’t we pick a different story?”
Ethan moves closer. “Everyone in the world knows that one—their love story is epic.” He bites his lip. “Did you ever watchLittle Womenas a kid?”
I shrug. “I think so. Isn’t that the one where the sister is just awful and throws her older sister’s book on a fire?”
He nods.
“And then someone cuts her hair,” I say. “And then the awful sister gets the guy?”
Ethan laughs a little too loud. “My sisters hated it, too.”
“Shh,” I say. “What if Dr. Archer hears you?”
“Oh yes,” he says. “We’d be in real trouble if he heard us standing here, laughing, while holding. . .” He squints. “What is that? A mashed ball of. . .” He lifts his eyebrows. “Yogurt?”
I thrust it at him. “It’s floor cake. I figured if you’d eat floor sandwiches, you wouldn’t turn your nose up at floor cake.”
He snatches it so fast it practically makes my head spin. “Never.”
“But what made you laugh so loud?”
“My sisters rewrote the ending,” Ethan says. “And they made me perform it as a play.”
“They what?” I can see it now, Ethan as his sister’s boyfriend. “Which one played the writer?”
“Izzy, of course,” he says.
“And who played the guy the horrible sister ends up with?”
“She didn’t get the guy, and that was clearly Gabe.”
That makesmelaugh. “Then who—”
“The point is that we can rewrite the ending.” Ethan’s eyes are intent, and I can’t look away.
“But the ending from theRomeo and Julietmovie is epic and well-known,” I say.
“The movie?” Ethan’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Yes.”
“It’s not a movie.”
“Um, I hate to disagree with you, but I think Claire Danes would say otherwise.”
“That’s like sayingThe Lord of the Ringswas a movie,” Ethan says. “I mean, it was turned into a movie, but it was a book first. AndRomeo and Julietwas most definitely a play before it was anything else.”
With anyone else, I’d be embarrassed, but not with Ethan. He’s made it clear that he thinks I’m great, so him mocking me feels like. . .like it felt to watch him tease Izzy and Whitney.
It feels like I’m family.
Like I belong.
It feels nice.
“Fine,fine,” I say. “But don’t call me Juliet anymore.”
