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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Based on the film clip for We The Kings' song Check Yes, Juliet. A girl falls in love with a boy her parents don't approve of.

Submitted: December 02, 2011

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Submitted: December 02, 2011



I knew from the first moment I saw him that there was something. I couldn’t describe it if I tried. It was like a spark, a connection of sorts. I could feel my heart pounding, and for the first time in my life, I became shy. My friend tried to pull me over to the garage where his band was playing, but I resisted. At first, I wasn’t sure what to say, but once we’d started talking, it was like I’d known him for a lifetime.

After we’d been dating for a while behind my parents’ backs, he convinced me it was time that he met them. I wasn’t too sure about it. My parents were perfect. They were always perfectly dressed, and both had quite a bit of money. We lived in a large, overly neat house, with everything in its place. I wasn’t sure they were going to approve of me going out with a messy boy in a rock band. I’d met his mother before, and she was lovely. She seemed to like me a fair bit, too, but I was scared it wouldn’t be the same for my parents. Of course, it wasn’t and the whole night was a shambles. When he mentioned that he was in a band, my father’s face went purple. Later on, he told me never to see the boy again. My mother told him that he was being a bit harsh, but of course, he waved her off.

We ran into each other a little while later. I was walking home from school and he offered me a ride in his car. I declined, remembering what my father had said. He pulled over and got out, and we walked to the park across the road where we sat, hand in hand, and talked. We weren’t doing anything inappropriate, just talking. It also happened to be the day when my father came home from work early and spotted us. He honked on his horn a few times, and when I didn’t move, my father got out of the car and dragged me away. He shoved me in the back seat of his car and as we drove away, I caught one last glimpse of him standing on the curb. Again, my father pushed the point that I was never to see him again, and grounded me to push the point further.

I couldn’t deal with it. Grounding in my house meant I couldn’t go out. I couldn’t see him or talk to him at all. I found myself locked in my upstairs bedroom, playing loud songs and singing at the top of my lungs. After a little while, I slumped down on my bed and looked at the ceiling. I checked my phone and saw the date, then suddenly remembered that he and his band were performing that night. I was missing it. I was missing him. He was all I could think about. I wanted to see him, to feel his arms around me. My phone chimed, indicating a message arriving. I opened it. It was my friend: Where are you? I answered her: At home. I’m grounded. A few minutes later, I received another one. It was a picture of him on stage, singing and looking at the camera with his beautiful dark eyes. Below it was a message: I’ll be there soon. You’re not going to miss this. Be rebellious for once.

I went to my wardrobe and picked out an outfit, suddenly feeling rebellious and excited all at once. She was right. I’d been playing by the rules for too long. It was time to be adventurous. As I was doing my hair, I heard a car horn and looked out the window. She was sitting out there in her car with a massive grin on her face. It was lightly raining outside, so I grabbed a jacket and opened my bedroom door. A peek down the stairs confirmed that both my parents were watching TV in the lounge, so going out the front door was not an option. I went back to my room and opened the window. I saw my friend’s eyes widen as I stuck a leg out of the window and climbed down the wall. I ran to the car and, after a quick hello, she skidded out of the street.

The place was packed, but that was how I liked it. I was different to my parents in that way. They liked everything in its place, whereas I liked everything disorderly. I knew, however, that if my parents ever found my room was messy, I’d get punished. My parents liked soft classical music, whereas I liked loud music I could dance to. Once we’d found a car park, I paid my money and headed inside. He was still up on the stage, and when he saw me, his face lit up. I felt something, too. Happy. I was the happiest I’d been in weeks. I could see him, could reach out and touch him if I wanted. He sang his songs and played the guitar, and when he looked at me, I felt my heart rate speed up a little bit. He smiled. When he looked up from me, though, his smile faded and he put his guitar down. He leaned over to one of his band members and said something. The guy nodded and waved it off like it was no big deal, and then he jumped down, took my hand and pushed our way through the crowd of people. As we jogged through the rain, he told me that he saw my father standing at the back of the crowd. I could have sworn that I saw my mother get out of one of the cars in the parking lot, but she never called my name; never told me to get in the car. She let us run. We got in the car and drove. He put his arm on the back of my seat and turned the radio up, and I swore I’d never been happier in my life.

© Copyright 2018 Sherry Helps. All rights reserved.

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