[Act 3] Little Romeo Knows MAGIC Too! I Give Juliet Hair Cancer!

Warning: mentions of Suicide/Drugs/Sex/Cancer/Anxiety/Explicit Language

Scene 1

Everything with Juliet was different and it bent my mind. There was a list growing of all the ways I differed from other boys. But Juliet also put some things into perspective that I'd try to change.

I started to clean better, but I hadn't stopped stuffing my pants to stop bodily fluids from running down my leg. Juliet had noticed and I figured that was when she'd run away. Instead, she gently told me to do a little better. Since we'd only started dating, I wasn't about to tell her why I was stuffing my pants.

I just did something I did a lot; fake simple math. I weighed the feeling of cringing over pee on my leg against the feeling I always got for Juliet. The answer was obvious, so I stopped stuffing my pants.

The next thing I noticed was just how powerful her hugs were. By definition, meltdowns can't be reversed. They are different from tantrums because the reward doesn't fix the meltdown. A meltdown happens and my brains going exponentially faster than normal processing. Meltdowns are hard to recall.

I'd gotten up to grade 11 in my writing, and had to ask Mother Teresa to tell me about that terrible kid; I didn't have enough to justify my own lifelong statement anymore. She said I'd covered most of what she remembered and that I'd been a pretty good kid. I just screamed, "Then what the eff happened?!"

One time as a kid I had a meltdown over a chocolate bar. It started because I was feeling like all the other boys had all this other stuff, and all I wanted was an eighty cent chocolate bar. That particular day, Mother Teresa had caved. I had my chocolate bar, so I should be happy, right? But I wasn't. The chocolate bar tasted as good as any other, but I'd had to make a scene to get it. I remained in meltdown mode.

And for all but two or three meltdowns I'd have, Juliet's hugs not only stopped, but somehow reversed them completely. By definition, Juliet changed my meltdowns into tantrums. The reward was a third party instead. I never had meltdowns to get hugs obviously. I wouldn't need to.

I hated butts and I could not lie. It was something I could not deny. I didn't mind the front, because that's what it was meant for. It was one thing I did make clear with Juliet so we'd always be on the same page, "I'll never stick Stumpy, where I wouldn't stick my fingers..." I was overjoyed when she agreed that was gross.

But walking down the halls to see her, I was thinking. I'd seen other boys that really liked smacking their girlfriends butts, and their girlfriends smiling. I figured I'd give it a shot. Instead of trying to sneak up, hug her from behind, and say, "Good morning beautiful!" like I did each morning, I went up and smacked her butt.

She twirled around smiling, but only saw a confused Romeo looking at her, "What's wrong?!" she asked concerned.

"You're weird..." I told her studying.

"Why's that?!" she asked shocked.

"Because I didn't like butts before... but then I smacked yours and now I like your butt..." I said confused on how she was doing this weird stuff to my brain. That booty was endless, but my love even deeper. She laughed and smiled as any girl would when they find out there's only one butt out of a few billion their boyfriends interested in.

Nothing had made sense before I dated Juliet, and it made even less sense now. I reasoned the entire story would have been different if she hadn't put her hands over my legs that day on the bench. I looked at her and asked why she had. "I dunno... I thought you were cute!" she said.

My mouth dropped and I thought Miss Universe thinks I'M CUTE?! for Little Romeo only saw something hideous in the mirror. But something else happened; I never asked Juliet again if I was cute. I reasoned that she wasn't telling me to alleviate anxiety. She'd accidently told me I was cute instead of appeasing my neediness.

But if I was cute, there had to be a way I could be "sexy" for her. I'd joined the wrestling team at one point hoping to ascertain larger pectorals she'd want to rest her hand and head on. I quit because no one else was 110 lbs soaking wet so I was bumped up in weight class; and because another boy noticed that I only worked on biceps and chest. Once he said, "You don't want to be that boy," I just quit altogether. I just wanted to be me.

I remembered that I'd gone to school in Grade 2 in Pile O' Butts, and I wondered if Juliet had just been around the corner the whole time. So I asked if she went to school here in grade 1, but she hadn't, which kind of disappointed the boy who was recording everything, and everything starting to feel like our own movie.

I started asking Juliet for manscapping tips. Body hair looked weird to me, so I figured she'd probably want it gone. I had a line of hair that went from my belly button to my nether regions, I figured it should go and I'd have a smooth stomach. She told me it was called a treasure trail.

She said it looked good on me and not to worry about it. I looked at her confused. I thought it would be pretty awesome if Juliet wanted to grab a map, shovel, and go dig for buried treasure. But I reasoned Miss Universe had other priorities than digging for pirates gold.

Those sorts of slang phrases never came naturally to me. Once, Montague told me he was going to "take a hammer to bed and hit the hay!". That sounded stupid. I knew people slept on straw, but why would anyone want to beat their pile before they went to sleep? I figured I'd want a fluffy haystack, not one squished by a hammer. After my confusion lead to his confusion, he explained that he wasn't actually taking a hammer to bed. Now I was confused about why he said so in the first place.

After about the first week of our relationship, there was something I contended with; the Triathlon. I knew how taxing it had been on me. I knew that there were so many times I was true and just, and she simply didn't believe me. I wasn't sure what to do with the terrible parts, or if I should talk to Juliet about it. I didn't want to make her mad by drudging up the past. What was I supposed to do about a time we almost became related? I looked at everything since meeting Juliet on the bench, up to how amazing she'd been in the first week, the feeling coursing through my tiny body. I decided that I was just going to forgive her for the things I never got to really take out on her. I reasoned it didn't matter anymore, since we were together now.

Scene 2

With neurotoxic chemicals driving Little Romeo crazy, time losing relevance, nothing else making sense, I'd also been drawn into Making Coffee from day one. I wasn't even as nervous as I reasoned I should be for a weird boy that didn't know what I was doing. I'd planned to wait three whole months before even asking her! 90 days from the day we started dating. I was mad at myself for this lack of control over Juliet. She insisted we wait.

I wanted to for her, so that she knew I wasn't just there to lose my virginity. It didn't make sense to me as to why she'd think that though. It had become so much, that a hopeless romantic could hardly take note of Valentines Day around the corner and hold out. But while I was going to start wondering about love at first sight, I was still convinced that Making Coffee was just Making Coffee.

I asked daily and after a week... she finally asked why I wanted to Make Coffee so bad. But I didn't have the answer while we looked at each other confused. "I really don't know... Maybe it's because I want to lose my virginity so bad?" I asked, unable to comprehend brain chemicals. I told her I did love her and so she agreed. I gave Juliet my Coffee Card.

I was still nervous going in. I looked like an alien after all. She smiled and said I looked fine, she didn't have a problem with the fact that my greasy hair must have made my acne avoid my face entirely and run to my back. She said I was the cutest boy. That's all I really wanted to be, a little cutie. I still knew the most awkward part would be my talents and I wasn't going to be a Greek God my first time, but I couldn't have guessed I'd only last six seconds!

I knew why; it was entirely how excited I'd been for Juliet. I was still extremely embarrassed with my performance for Miss Universe and I apologized profusely for nothing and underperforming. She smiled and assured me it was alright. The smile lead me to believe she understood.

While my anxiety levels were becoming hard to contend with, I didn't know what anxiety even was. I asked if it was alright for me to tell the boys I'd lost it, although I really hadn't the first time. She laughed and said she really didn't care. But I did.

We'd only been dating a week and I didn't want the school to go around calling her a slut or whore. She wasn't and I knew that. I also knew people could be petty in their jealousy.

I'd told a few friends and got praise but hadn't mentioned my lack of performance for obvious reasons. So once that started to go around the school, I grew concerned. The detective work didn't take long since there had only been two people at the special event. If I hadn't told, obviously Juliet had, but why?

I confronted her and she said she had told Grumpy Greta, but ended with that she thought it was cute. And that was enough, me just wanting to be a little cutie. I also reasoned that although Grumpy Greta didn't like me, I bet she respected Juliet at least enough to not have leaked the information. I figured the culprit was 'pillow talk' with Huckleberry.

But it wasn't about performance or being cute, it was about a weird boy trying to trust a girl I loved, and a week in, wondering where she drew the line on my secrets. I wondered how I'd open up to her, when I didn't know what would be streamlined back to the school.

Juliet hadn't alleviated much of the stress on the scenario. I let it go because it blew over so quickly. Most spectacles lasted a week with the best ones extending past the weekend. I'd reasoned I was in an extended laugh so when it blew over after a couple days, I wondered why. I was the six-second-pump-chump after all.

A brain reality formed, but this one wasn't so anxiatic. My biggest bullies were sitting around a table in the lunchroom. One perked up to mention my performance to the others and they all bellowed out laughing. Except one by one, their smiles faded. Soon none had any. They'd finally thought about the words coming from their mouth. While I might have only lasted six seconds, I'd lost my virginity. What about them? And at the very least, I could only get better.

Scene 3

So much was happening, it tends to boggle even my adult brain. Whether I wanted to pay rent or not was going to be irrelevant. In my mounting and heated frustration, I'd quit T-Hoes. Not much had changed. I was exhausted but was shaving to save myself future embarrassment.

I'd inquire on the selective rights of beard nets, only people with religious beliefs could wear them. What conflicted with my logic gate had nothing to do with race or religion; if one person was up front with one, everyone should be extended the option. I'd make the statement that my religion was to not have to shave my peach fuzz every second day. While I found it funny, my manager didn't.

I'd just started dating Juliet and reasoned I should be allowed to just spend time with her and get to know her better. One day, I'd have no choice but to leave for work everyday to bring home the bread. But my decision to quit was only going to conflict with logic gates, like the one where I needed money to spend on Juliet. While I mostly saw high school as a broken record on repeat, I was about to start breaking my own. It was still apparent I didn't have a car. These cycles were endless. But it was something else entirely that caused me to quit.

I'd have a hard time and a lot of processing to do with a suicide that happened. The first of my biggest morality soups of the year. It was one of my bullies, and like everyone else, I never saw it coming. He always smiled. It came and hit us like Swine Flu worry would that very spring. It was sad to me that if he hadn't bullied me, maybe he'd have connected with a kid who'd also been suicidal, if both our journey's wouldn't have been easier and different.

My journey was always different because I was uploaded with a very special program at birth by Mother Teresa; it was love. Even in the times I'd try to push her away, she just fought back to get in a hug. I'd reasoned that while it didn't help the bruises or hurtful words, the adults were probably right when they said my worst bullies received it twice as bad as I would from their parents. I always felt bad for them, and wished them happiness.

I was disturbed with what I'd witness at school. I wouldn't have to speculate that at least some people were using it as an excuse to get out of class; some would laugh while admitting it. To me, it didn't matter whether you liked the person, they deserved the last moment for respect.

I'd always tried to be the best worker I could, even telling a manager I didn't get along with to give me a call whenever she needed shifts covered. I figured asking for one day off to attend a funeral wouldn't be a problem, since I'd never asked for much, not even a day off.

The fact that 90% of the staff also went to the same school as me became a problem. I'd been juggling back and forth between going or not so by the time I decided to go, everyone else had already requested the time off. It had taken a lot of energy to come to the decision to go, and now I was being told I couldn't anyways. I didn't know anything about bereavement laws.

I felt responsible but wasn't getting much from anyone except Juliet. She said I'd have to find someone to cover my shift and I already knew how well that would go. I'd see other people in cycles too. Asking for shifts, and then asking others to take those shifts. Wanting me to take theirs but me finding no quid pro quo. I told her how I saw my employment and said if I couldn't get the time off, I'd quit to make the time. I had to quit.

I arrived dressed in whatever formal wear Mother Teresa had accumulated that I'd wear. I met up with my group of friends. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to anyone else, but it wasn't long before I could feel things happening inside me. There was too much going on in my brain.

I wanted to wish the parents my condolences and had been working on the appropriate words to say to parents I'd never met before. I looked over and the mother was a sobbing mess. A kid who fought a lot with her son was offering condolences. Things became too apparent to Little Romeo. He'd managed to say word for word, what I'd come up with. I didn't have anything else to say and wondered how many more times she'd have to hear the same thing. An entire school, and that's what we could offer.

I looked over at the casket and no longer saw that boy; I saw myself. When I looked back, it was now my mother in place of theirs, and my bullies were saying the same things to her. "We didn't know...". I started screaming in my head, How are we all here... and he's in there! Pretty much the entire school had showed up and I wondered how many of those kids would attend my funeral.

I could tell that I was starting to lose it and so I told the group I had to go and walked out. I was having a cigarette. Smoking de-stimulated me, but I'd never recommend it, find healthier coping mechanisms than I found.

A few friends came to join me and find out why I'd snapped. Koki was among them. Without revealing the dark details I kept behind closed doors, I'd told them what bothered me about everything. I didn't feel like going back in. I'd go back in to pay my respects, but wasn't my last confrontation with death.

After all was said and done, I had $230, a pile of debt, and no cell phone. I wasn't allowed to take mine when I was kicked out and I reasoned I needed a way to communicate with Juliet that wasn't G-Ma's landline. I bought a laptop. Either I was naive, buying a laptop thinking that it magically connected to Juliet or something, or I'd somehow known about the routed internet in the area that wasn't password protected. See, I can't remember everything, and I will always be the first to admit when. I also reasoned writing, that if I had remembered everything, I would be permanently where 7 year old Tiny Romeo feared; Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane.

I told Juliet that I'd bought it and why I had. She told me that she understood, but that I needed to make better decisions with my money, especially if I didn't have a lot of it. I understood what she meant, but it still made me a little sad. I was only trying my best for everyone. You're so smart... I thought looking up at her. If I believed that anyone knew anything, I believed Juliet did. By the day, more and more adults just became quite stupid in my eyes. I reasoned that listening to stupid people was stupid. But Juliet wasn't stupid.

Scene 4

Valentines day approached and it was a hopeless romantics favourite non-holiday. I finally got to spend an official day with Juliet! I asked what she liked. She knew I didn't have a lot of money so she said she didn't want anything and it was okay. It wasn't for Little Romeo though. I wanted to get her roses, although they were a cliche.

Although we were discussing language and not gifts. I'd told her that she took my breath away, but I wasn't lying. I couldn't lie to Juliet. She smiled but I knew she didn't quite believe me. That there were times I'd forget to breath with her. It scared me as much as I thought it was cute.

I had the appearance of a bad boy or something; I don't really know. Perhaps I've never been able to label it because that status kept molding and changing throughout a short period. I looked at her and asked if she knew about all the rules she was breaking. I'd learned about voluntary and involuntary muscles a long time ago, early in elementary school. Breathing was one of those involuntary ones. Involuntary muscles are the ones you aren't in control of. I looked at Juliet who'd already taken control of my Nervous System and wondered how she'd managed to now hijack my Respiratory System.

"I hate cliches..." I said looking at Juliet with my angry face.

"Why don't you like cliches?" she asked.

"Because they're words and anyone can just say words. I actually feel this..." I said.

I went to the florist and looked around but it wasn't long before the perfect rose caught my eye. I don't recall if she even cared for flowers, but I figured she'd like this one. They were roses, but each petal was multicoloured. They looked beautiful.

She received four poems although I only wrote two myself. By this point, I'd put enough pressure on myself to exhaust myself out of my own words, even romantic ones. I started hoping that maybe others' might stick. Plagiarizing not only from the pressure of school and the social experiment, but now the pressure of a relationship.

The first time I'd gone to Juliet's house, I wasn't even sure I'd be able to open the front doors; they were huge! I reasoned 4 or 5 of me tall. I'd planned to hold the door for her like always, but reasoned I'd let her open her own door in case I was too weak. After, I reasoned it probably made more sense to let a girl enter her own home first anyways. And the next time I went over after Valentines day, the flowers were on the counter and I'd smile very big. She'd been sick but told me she liked them.

Scene 5

G-Ma had shuffleboard on Tuesdays each week so I'd invite Juliet and friends over. I had tonnes of anxiety about what to do with Juliet, so although I didn't care for Grumpy Greta or Huckleberry, their presence alleviated the stress of planning things out.

I knew the question about me using pot would come up eventually, I'd just assumed we'd be alone. I'd ask when we first started dating, and she'd been alright with it. After a group conversation, Grumpy Greta proclaimed, "If you REALLY loved Juliet, you WOULDN'T be smoking pot," and Juliet cheered.

I looked at her very sadly, You STILL don't believe that I love you...? And so I didn't grow any less confused. I'd reasoned my biggest problem with pot was that it only made me want to hug Juliet more, it's effects only combined with the effects of her hugs. I just held less anxiety in those moments. But I reasoned that I didn't want to rely on drugs, I didn't want her hugs to lose their natural effect.

I also wondered where this had come from; Grumpy Greta, Juliet, or perhaps her mother. I looked at her and wondered who was in control of our relationship. Had this been planned, or was it spur of the moment? Was she trying to get her parents to accept me? Why hadn't she just come and talked to me in private about it? I already knew she started dating me against her parents direct opposition. It gave her her own 'bad girl' quality that drove a nerdy boy crazy.

But I knew I wasn't about to tell the entire group my reasons for smoking pot. I didn't want a brain I didn't understand being picked apart by a savage school. Still looking sad, I said, "Okay..." hoping this would finally make Juliet believe that I loved her.

It did have one positive effect. I reasoned that I might as well double down. The pot was really the only sticking point on my return home. If I quit pot for Juliet, and then went back home for her, MAYBE her parents would finally understand that I was serious. I approached Mother Teresa, but trust had become null and void on both sides. She insisted on a trial run to prove myself.

Scene 6

Juliet would tell me that I needed to eat, I was too skinny, but I wasn't sure why I was never hungry. The only thing I seemed to be hungry for was Pop Tarts, French Fries, and Pepperoni Pizza. In their attempts at curving obesity rates in the growing youth, our school joined the many trying to offer healthy alternative items.

I'd state I wouldn't be wasting toonies to get carrots out of a vending machine. And none of the kids were happy they removed French Fries from the menu. They tried to push that healthy alternative while wondering why canteen sales were down and almost non-existent. Like most times, I'd shake my head seeing the obvious. They were selling things no one wanted to buy. After shouts from the kids, they agreed to bring fries back twice a week.

She started buying me Fries or Poutine, whichever I was less anxiatic about her paying money for a given day. It was just more of these fake social rules we were consistently breaking with her always paying for everything.

I didn't have a lot, and even less now that I wasn't living at home. Fries were $2 and Poutine was $5. I loved her for buying me food I wanted to eat, but like I'd tried keeping a tab on what Grandpa was spending on me in Grade 2, I did with Juliet too and she was spending too much on me. Did she save anything to spend on herself? If she didn't, and I had nothing to spend on her, who was treating Juliet? I quickly reached a point where I didn't feel worthy enough for her love.

She didn't believe much of anything I was saying, so it took a long time to convince her that I really was a weird boy who hated Ketchup but loved Mustard on my fries or poutine. It added a zangy flavour and most people who'd try it would agree it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked or sounded. She was just happy I was eating and not wasting away.

Sitting around the lunchroom table with Juliet and Grumpy Greta, I found myself on a gameshow. I was the contestant, while the other two served as hosts asking questions. I sat there, like I often did screaming in my head, You STILL don't believe that I love you?! But they'd been pretty easy questions and I hoped it would be the last time I was questioned. Then I was hit with a good one.

"Would you still love Juliet if she had no hair?" Grumpy Greta asked while Juliet quipped up excitedly curious.

The problem was that I could never lie to Juliet and I reasoned that I really did like her hair. It was soft and I loved running my hands through it while we kissed or cuddled. I was pretty sure I wasn't in love with her for her looks, but I also never wanted to lie to myself either. I created a brain reality.

I wasn't sure what would cause Juliet to lose all her hair except cancer. But my realities always contained real world probability while not always containing reality. There wasn't a cancer that had %100 cure rate and I worried I might accidently kill Juliet in my brain and have to redo the entire experiment. I invented a fake cancer instead; Hair Cancer. No one had ever died from it, it just made you feel like shit and you lost your hair every time.

First, Juliet got sick and after waiting awhile, we went to the hospital to confirm our suspicions; Hair Cancer. She got very sick, very fast and they rushed her into intensive care. When they let me into the room, I grew sad, she had IV's running everywhere. I sat down beside her and grabbed her hand in both of mine. She had a faint look on her face while unconscious, head slightly tilted upwards on the pillow. I know you're sick... but you still look so cute!

She woke up and started the process of healing, but all her hair had fallen out and she cried a lot. I wheeled her out in a wheelchair to our car, driving back to our tiny apartment. She wore a wrap so I still hadn't seen her without hair until the apartment scene.

We sat around the kitchen table and she looked very sad which made me sad. I looked at her, now with the wrap off, and she looked like an alien without hair. I thought I should try and cheer her up so I looked at her and said, "Don't worry, it'll grow back!" and then Juliet smiled and she didn't look like an alien anymore, just Juliet with no hair, and I smiled.

All of that happened in a matter of seconds while I looked at the two with a confused look. I was pretty sure that I'd still love Juliet without hair, but that was a big promise. "Uhhh... I think so..." I said processing.

It went off pretty good, both girls were happy to hear, but Grumpy Greta wanted to know how I knew for sure. I reasoned that telling them I'd just given Juliet cancer in my brain to find out probably wasn't going to fly for me. I looked at her with my angry face, "I just know...!"

Scene 7

"The Three Tile" rule.

As a Little Romeo, I asked if I'd been the cause of such a rule being instilled. They wouldn't give me that honour, saying many people had been reported over the eons, but I was still pretty convinced I'd been the main reason. Since Little Hannah now goes to Greenall, I asked her about the rule. She looked at me confused and said no such tile rule existed.

I'd tried explaining to everyone the ways in which I didn't feel in control. Not being able to help myself with Juliet was scary. Some of the other kids didn't appreciate my public displays of affection for her. I understood. Everyone wants to be loved. It must be hard to watch so much of it, and not receive any. That wouldn't deter me. I just started describing Juliet as a magnet.

"I don't know what to say, I really can't help myself with her..." I told the Wing-Leader, or school guidance counsellor. She said I was the number 1 Wing-Nut. She told me to find a way and I said, "I'll try my best," and so they tried instilling a new rule in the halls; 3 tiles between girls and boys.

I was the non-discriminatory boy who pointed out the obvious about the establishments new rule; they weren't accepting the gay community with it. I also wondered what they could really do. I wasn't smoking pot, I was hugging and kissing a girl. And so, the reward was well worth the risk, although Juliet was one to follow the rules.

I took her hand and she looked at me concerned, "No... You're going to get us both in trouble...!"

"I don't care!" I stubbornly said, having positioned myself for her disapproval, "besides, we are technically 3 tiles apart," I pointed to our shoes, my left and her right were 3 tiles apart.

The gods heard me curse them and one called from down the halls, "Romeo. Juliet. 3 tile rule! How many times do I have to tell you!"

We stopped and I looked back, "I don't know... but we ARE three tiles apart!" I said pointing down to our feet with my free hand.

"You know what I mean!" she called. I held Juliet's hand tight in defiance as a brain reality formed. I was trying to figure out how severe our punishment could even be. We weren't following those rules and they had consequences.

We'd been walking down the hall, not even following my new foot rule when one of the school's water-logged ceiling tiles began to fall above us. Juliet went to dodge left, while I tried to duck to the right but we wouldn't let go of each others hands. Like an animated show, in an accordion fashion, we slungshot back into the middle.

We both laughed and held each other while our impending doom fell on top of us. That's how Romeo and Juliet died. Everyone at the school agreed it was a sad ending for us so they resurrected a small tombstone in the middle of the hallway by her locker where it happened. It was engraved with our names and told the small tale of our tragic end. The teachers hoped it would forever be a lesson to the kids on following the rules.

But I don't recall how the event ended. I'm positive she'd finally joined the ranks of not caring as we continued walking hand in hand while a guidance counsellor just threw her hands up. Probably reasoning what I had. Am I going to give kids detention over love? At that point, the only way they could have ended it, was to expel me.

Scene 8

Things weren't perfect. Much like the intricacies of life, I'd have to imagine perfect would get boring after awhile anyways. We were hanging out talking, when Juliet piped up to ask about Bio-Dad. I got defensive and wondered where it had come from. I tried to tell her that he wasn't any good and he'd had all the chances.

She told me that every Dad should be allowed to have a relationship with their son. I guessed that made sense, and she was the smart one after all.

But it turned out that Bio-Dad was very manipulative. Instead of directly messaging me on Facebook, he went around everyone's back and messaged a girl I'd barely been dating. What made the least sense, was how Juliet had thought that was appropriate. I got mad at him for it. Who do you think you are? You don't have ANY right to be messaging Juliet. You don't even deserve to talk to her.

I reasoned that I'd do it for Juliet and that was about all I did it for. That and some smokes. I knew Bio-Dad smoked and liked his beer. That became apparent when pretty much every day he'd inform me when it was "Beer O'clock". I'd reasoned that meant he'd fallen flat on the promise he'd made to Mother Teresa, that he hadn't saved even a penny for my education to become a Microbiologist.

"I'll meet you. But you have to buy me two packs of smokes," I said. The rest was pretty much what I expected. I tried now because he was my dad. He insisted that things were going good with his fiancé. They were planning to buy a house and he was going to help me purchase a 'cool' car. What would really transpire was a Dad who wanted to drink with his son and play Guitar Hero, trying to regain something that had long passed and a 17 year old boy was no longer interested in.

I'd started making contingency plans not knowing where the future would lead me, but knowing I didn't want to be sleeping on the streets. If he was purchasing a house, he'd have a place I could stay. But almost immediately he'd grown possessive, and that was never going to work. I'd already had to start taking life into my own hands, all I needed at 17 was a new possessive Dad who hadn't been there in the first place.

Scene 9

Little Romeo did learn a magic trick that year that was based out of illusion and not my weird brain. I had one of those meltdowns I can't remember, but by now, some teachers would just send me to the counsellors. That was alright, I didn't want to be in class anyways. The school had gained a temporary intern and he'd never disrespected me. That didn't mean I hadn't put up my dukes ready to fight if he wanted to.

Instead of being combative, he talked to me like an adult. Since he was listening, it didn't add to mounting frustration and gave me pulses in time to calm down. After I'd told him why I blew up, he offered some advice, and I listened much like I had with The Warden. Then he asked Little Romeo, "Hey, do you like magic tricks?"

Since he'd opened me up, I didn't have time to be defensive, "I love magic tricks!" I said wide eyed. Mr. Z did not disappoint. He found a deck of cards and asked if I wanted to shuffle them. I was studying him hard. He showed me my card, and shuffled it again, but everything looked completely natural. I asked him to do it again, and again. After the third time, he said no more, he didn't want me to figure out the trick. He just told me that I was thinking too hard, it was much simpler than I thought. I was sad.

"Can't you just tell me?" I asked like I was the President of the United States or something. I think what he said next stuck with me, because it actually came from a human, not the TV, or a book, or a real magician. Just this temporary intern.

"Little Romeo, a magician NEVER reveals their secrets!" he said smiling. I looked at him frustrated, the trick was too good! But he continued, "Unless it's to another fellow magician," and I perked up for that. "Do you know any magic tricks?"

"No..." I said disappointed again. Mother Teresa had bought me a magic kit in elementary, but I overthought what little information was available in the mini book, and the other kids at school had made it clear that magic tricks and magicians were for babies.

"Why don't you teach yourself a couple? If you can teach yourself a magic trick that I think is worth trading mine for, we'll trade them," he said and I perked up. He was going to be teaching me that trick one day.

I went home and looked online for instructibles on how to do magic. First, I didn't start with actual magic tricks, I watched videos on dealers shuffling decks and sat there amazed at the physics going on. I started by trying to do something the guy called "the flower" shuffle. When he did it fast, it looked really amazing, but when he showed the follow-through in slow motion, there wasn't much to it. I learned that.

But I had a problem. There was a lot going on in life. Who has time to learn magic? I was getting frustrated that it hadn't just come naturally to me and was on the verge of quitting, but I found one slight of hand trick that simply required easy shuffling. I learned a second trick that only required me to have stacked the deck prior, but it also meant I had to be the only one to shuffle the deck.

Like most people, I assumed he'd like what he actually didn't. I showed him my slight of hand trick that was the same style as his, just not as good. I knew that. He told me that it wasn't as good as his, and that he knew how I was shuffling. I was sad, because that was my big trick! I had to rely on my backup one now, as I quietly stacked the deck while we talked.

I had him make four even piles from the deck, making sure I knew which pile came from the top. Now I had him take 3 cards off one pile and put them underneath, and pull 3 more off the top after, putting one on each of the other piles. He'd put that top stack down last, so I told him to start from the first pile, and do the same thing with all the piles in the order he put it down.

The entire trick was stacked, so it didn't matter what he was discarding or drawing. I'd made sure that all four aces were on the top of the deck, and shuffled terribly to ensure they remained up there. By the time he reached the last pile, the three cards that he'd first pull off and discard, were the three cards he'd put on from the three other piles. Thus the three cards he'd be placing on the other three piles, would all be aces, and that fourth ace would remain on the initial pile.

I told him to flip over the top card on each pile in any order. He flipped over an ace and amazement came over his face as he flipped over a second. "They're all aces, aren't they?" he asked impressed, flipping over the remaining aces. "That was an amazing trick, Little Romeo!"

I never thought it really was. The illusion was a pre-stacked deck and math. I really wanted to know his trick though, so I asked if it was amazing enough to trade. He said it definitely was but there were some stipulations. The first was that I had to reveal my trick first. I'd already been growing trust issues, but he said it was good faith. The second thing was a promise he had me make. He made me promise to break his own rule. "You have to promise me to never tell ANYONE how this trick is performed. NOT EVEN in exchange for another magic trick. Okay Little Romeo?"

He didn't have to ask me twice. I was very grateful that he was sharing his most sacred secret with me. I'd perform the trick for the kids at school to amazement. I'd take the skills I learned from Improv, and put them into the trick itself. I'd grow up never needing to learn another magic trick, the one he'd taught me astounded throughout life. Parties, new work sites, and you'll find the magic trick. You'll also find it was a promise I never broke, even after high school was but rubble in the past, I've never revealed the trick, even to the loudest pleas.