A/N: After racing down the street against the guy I like (and I LOST!), this popped into my head. Eh.

It helps if you've read Romeo and Juliet before, since I use direct lines from the play. With that being said, any old English lines belong to the writing genius that is William Shakespeare.

"Alright, class, please open your copies of Romeo and Juliet to Act Two, Scene Two. It's the balcony scene, for those of you that don't know," Mr. Striker told the class. A few groans were sounded around the classroom. "Settle down, only a few of you have to read it out loud. There will be no acting in front of the class today." Mr. Striker ran his hand down the pages of the teacher's copy to see all of the parts he would need for the reading. "Okay, we'll need a girl to read the nurse's part. Ashley, how about you? Great. As for Romeo, that will be Matt. And for the lovely Juliet…" Mr. Striker looked up and scoured the classroom for a girl to read Juliet's lines. "Amy, will you read for me?"

"Sure," Amy sighed. She really didn't want to read alongside Matt, but she obliged since she was a good student. In any other circumstance, she would have read the part willingly, but it was Romeo and Juliet, and it was Matt. They recently had a bad break up where she left him for his best friend, Adam, after a six year relationship.

This was going to be awkward.

"Matt, will you start, please?"

"He jests at scars that never felt a wound," Matt viciously read out loud. He knew that Romeo was speaking about his friends, but in this case, he was thinking about Adam. He was thinking about how he stole Amy from him and didn't even care.

Matt read the rest of the passage in the same tone of voice, trying to sound bored in hopes that Mr. Striker wouldn't make him read anymore.

"Matt, can you please try for me?" Mr. Striker asked.

"I guess," Matt reluctantly agreed.

The scene carried on. Matt attempted to sound as if he was trying for Mr. Striker's sake, and Amy read as she should have, for she was a good student. As normal as she sounded, she was breaking down inside.

"O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon," Amy read, and Matt shuddered. He had sworn to her that he loved her, but that didn't matter in the end.

"O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" Matt recited, and he almost had to hold back a snort of disgust. Oh, the irony.

The bell rang, and Matt quickly left the room. He went to his locker that was conveniently right outside is English Literature classroom.

Amy carefully gathered her things slowly. She placed her bookmark in the textbook and double checked that she wrote down the correct homework assignment. She exited the classroom and turned left to head over to her locker. Her mind was somewhere else until she heard…

"I really hope you enjoyed that, Amy," Matt sneered.

Amy stopped in the hallway and turned to Matt. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Amy. You know you're not. Actually, you might be for what you've done. You know you secretly enjoyed being forced to play Romeo and Juliet, especially after what you've done to me."

"Matt, can we please not talk about this right now?" Amy pleaded. She had noticed that Matt's harsh tone had started to gain attention from bystanders.

"No, Amy, now is a perfect time to talk about it. You've already read that play right?"

Amy nodded.

"Let me put this in perspective for you," Matt continued. "You let Paris win when he was supposed to fall. You know the stage directions. 'They fight. Paris falls.' Paris falls, not Romeo. Congratulations, Amy. You let Paris win when he was supposed to die. You killed Romeo. You killed the greatest love story of all time."

Amy looked taken aback at Matt's words. "They were called 'star-crossed lovers' for a reason, Matt."

"Yeah, because you took the stars and crossed them yourself," Matt said.

"I thought you were over this."

"No, and I'll never be over it. Did Romeo get over it when he thought Juliet was dead?"

"Yes, Matt. He killed himself. He got over it."

"Are you insinuating that I should go and commit suicide?" Matt suggested.

"It would be a lot better than you bothering me," Amy said, looking for any excuse to end this conversation. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She wasn't a very confrontational person, especially in front of people. "O happy dagger," she added sarcastically with a smart smile.

"Go to hell, Amy," Matt growled, slamming the door of his locker shut.

"I just got out of six years of it," Amy retorted, turning on her heel and leaving Matt alone in the hallway, leaving the onlookers to gawk and stare. Gossip was sure to ensue.