Rockin' Romeo and Jammin' Juliet

Wow, These Lyrics Sound A Lot Like Foreplay

Chapter 22: Wow, These Lyrics Sound A Lot Like Foreplay

((Playlist: Throne by Bring Me The Horizon))

Right in the middle of writing some 'spirit-enlightening prose' during her Creative Writing class, someone slapped a newspaper down on Sophie's desk.

She jumped. "What the-"

"Sophie, you have to enter this with your boyfriend and his emosexual punks!"

She looked up to see Mikayla standing over her, flushed as if she'd just run in from the parking lot (which she probably had. Mikayla had a notorious habit of rolling into school last-minute).

"Enter what?"

Mikayla flipped open an ink-smudged copy of the monthly school newspaper and jabbed her finger at a quarter-page ad showcasing the date for the school talent show auditions.

"Err-" she poked the ad with her pencil, like it was diseased- "the talent show? Isn't it supposed to be cursed?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And only like seven kids our freshman year participated - and that one guy barfed on stage right in the middle of his act and everyone left?"

"Sure-"

"And last year a break-dancer spun off stage and had to be rushed to the hospital to get twelve stitches in his forehead?"

"But-"

"And I thought four years ago a kid doing a magic trick lit his own pants on fire."

Mikalya finally shushed her with a hand over her mouth. "Yeah, but there's prize money this year."

Sophie's eyes darted down to look at the ad again, and noticed it mentioned a $500 prize. If one thing motivated her, it was her future of being a broke college student.  "Alright then," she complied, pushing Mikayla's hand away, "I'll text Jackson."

While she sent the message, Mikayla babbled on about the show. "You know Taylor Mirandez? Well, apparently her dad is really into the arts and he wanted to make the show as 'great as it used to be' or whatever. Anyway, he donated the prize. I'm trying to get Lys to be MC and..."

- hey, u wanna enter TMP in the school talent show? -

He replied in seconds.

- no way. we have dignity. -

-there's a $500 prize. -

- screw dignity. count me in –

Mikayla rambled on: "... so I was thinking we could do some sort of improv poetry reading with bongos. Ooh, and beatboxing! Do you think Jonah knows how to beatbox? Nah, probably not. Maybe that guy Jamal can-"

Sophie cut her off. "Jackson's in."

Mikayla let out a whoop that earned her weird looks from their classmates and a mildly annoyed glance from the teacher.

"This is going to be soooooo amazing," she squealed excitedly, slapping Sophie's arm.

"Ow, geez, chill," Sophie muttered, rubbing her arm. "Don't get ahead of yourself. This thing has to be school appropriate, doesn't it?"

Mikayla shrugged. "Probably."

"Jackson's band only plays songs about sex and hookers and drinking," Sophie pointed out.

"Oh. Yeah, that could be an issue. Just write a song about not bullying or something and you'll totally get that money," she suggested.

"I'm not sure Jackson knows how," Sophie frowned, looking over the ad. Sure enough, in fine print at the bottom it read: Only submissions appropriate for audiences both young and old will be accepted. Keep it clean, kiddos!