*Chapter Two

I heard no crash as the screeches came to a stop.

I breathed again.

I’m alive!

I peeked under my eyelids and saw an extremely familiar midnight blue car. I gulped, No, that won’t remain the same for long.

He got out of the car, his face contorted in anger. Slamming the door with unnecessary force, knowing it would be likely to survive. He stomped his way to my driver’s seat which was now nearly off the cliff.

“Juliana Renée Capulet,” he growled under his breath. I looked away ignorantly, trying to stay indifferent.

“Get out now,” he instructed his voice still strict and stressed, warped in anger. I glanced at him briefly and winced, blanching. Something in my expression softened him. He sighed. “Reverse the damned car and get home.” Then he left, ducking back in his car and swerving a U-turn smoothly, back onto the tire-track covered road.

I cursed under my breath for my bad luck and followed suit, making the reverse and turn just as smoothly. I wondered idly what he would do when we hit home.

Option one: kill me. I like it. Saves trouble.

Option two: confiscate my license, then kill me. Embarrassing, but at least it doesn’t last..

Option three: confiscate my license, destroy my car, then kill me. Worse… but still don’t have to live through it.

Option four: call Mom and Dad, confiscate my license, destroy my car, then kill me. Mom and Dad would be disappointed, naturally. But they don’t have to live through it.

Option five: call Mom and Dad, confiscate my license, destroy my car. The worst option possible… or not.

Option six: give me the responsibility talk and you know what comes next. Worst!

Option seven: give me the responsibility chat and takes away my license. Car with no driver… Fabulous.

Option eight: give me the responsibility speech… and destroying the car, or just confiscating it. License and no car… Blech. Some option. Give me death, why don’tcha?

Option nine: Just give me the responsibility crap. Nice… very… As if…

Option ten: forgive me. Yeah, right!

I prayed stupidly, my knuckles turning white as I clutched the wheel with excessive force. I knew I had all the right to take care of myself. But times like this… he’s right?! I growled to myself. As if I was going to give up my dignity and go through with this. I had all the right. I don’t think so… a small voice in my head reminded me, you didn’t take responsibility seriously.

I thought I honestly lost my mind when I replied the voice out loud, “I’ll take that crap from him. Not from you. You’re me after all.”

I grimaced in terror. I was going mad. Our house came into sight; he swerved in easily through the open gate. I followed, frowning.

Home… was more described mansion. Four-storied, carried over the whole top of the mossy hill, forty square feet garden filled with the rarest plants and a lake, nearly thirty rooms, three ballrooms, almost thirty maids and butlers including chefs and gardeners. It looked ancient, in a beautiful, exquisite way. I grimaced, I lived like a royalty. It was almost a miracle I didn’t turn spoilt — Amelia was no where as rich as I was.

I heard him slam the door after he got out of the car, seeming more composed than before. I gulped. Ten options… I wonder… I pushed open the door and got out. My sneakers squeaked and it didn’t make me feel any more indignant.

I faced him with my head ducked. He cleared his throat and I raised my head only a fraction of an inch. He glowered and I straightened up straight away. He appraised me with his eyes, seeming to scan his options. I looked away, trying to seem indifferent. My suspected options, I suppose.

“Juliana Renée Capulet, look at me.” I looked up. He cleared his throat again. “I won’t confiscate your license, and I won’t smash up the car. Mom and Dad won’t find out either. But…”

Option nine… I could’ve laughed with relief but I wasn’t into listening to advice.

“Let’s just say… try to be careful next time.” He turned away.

I blinked rapidly. “That’s all?” I blurted out.

He twisted back to look at my perplexed expression and then snickered. “Well, Jul, you want me to give you the responsibility crap?”

“No, I wouldn’t even listen!” I snorted and he gave me a reproachful frown. “I was just wondering why.” My voice sounded dubious even to myself.

He laughed, a low throaty sound. “I was a kid too, y’know,” he sighed. “I remember the last time I went up on street racing. Mom nearly slaughtered me.”

I blinked, trying to remember a time where Chad had taken up street racing. He was a rule breaker but… street racing?

“You don’t remember, Jul. You won’t. ‘Cause you were a kid then. Still three. And like this tiny,” he teased and showing his fingers a fraction apart.

“Oh.” I shrugged. “So I’m not in trouble.”

“You would be. But I don’t think I care,” he said in a bored voice. I raised an eyebrow at him. He was never like this. He was nearly as protective as Danny. Nearly.

“Kidding, kid,” he grinned and ruffled my hair.

I hit his shoulder and he winced. Dropping his hand over my head, he rubbed his shoulder.

“I thought you weren’t like other girls…” he groaned in pain.

I arched my brows. “I’m not. Why would this have to do with that?”

“’Cause girls don’t like people touching their hair,” he explained simply, still wincing frequently.

I grimaced. “Well, I was fooling around. That hurt though, honestly?” I smirked.

“Yeah, kinda. You’ve been working out, huh?” he sneered. “You’re turning into a guy.”

I snorted. “As if. I’ve just worked out trying to struggle out of Danny’s vice-tight grip.”

His eyebrows raised and then he turned awkward. “You… him… you didn’t—”

“No!” I shouted. We both jumped at my abruptly raised voice. I blushed, knowing he was talking about exactly that. This was one chat I wanted to avoid, ever.

He laughed. “Yeah, I know, kid. You’re just sixteen.”

“Gee, you disgust me.” My eyes narrowed in resentment. “I’d hate to say it but I’ll have you that I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” he interjected. “I don’t need to hear it.” He grimaced.

I wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue at him. “It’s good to be home, kid.” He ruffled my hair.

I smiled the first time after I’ve seen him. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, kid. Sounds nice.” He smiled. “I was just going out to get you. Supposed you were at Dan’s.”

I rolled my eyes. “No wonder… If you weren’t there, there wouldn’t be any chance of an accident.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Watch it, Jul.”

I pretended to gulp and faint. Then I straightened up, rolling my eyes. Suddenly, I felt someone behind me.

“Ah, Gardenia…” Chad breathed as though relieved. I turned to see my beautiful, gentle… fragile… sister, Gardenia Heather Capulet. Names of flowers. She brought the scent of them too — shrubs.

I resembled her in some ways. The same shade of brown hair and hazel eyes, the musical sense and the scent of shrubs. But even those things that are the same, are different. Her long hair curled down her back — exactly like mine when it was still long; her hazel eyes had no golden tint — green instead; she was shorter than me by a few inches than my five feet six; instead of being harsh and tomboyish like I was, she was gentle… and fragile.

“Denia…” I greeted her softly, suddenly gentle. Chad had always wondered if I had multiple personality disorder. I was so mild with Denia. As for my brother, Chad Lucas Capulet, I always treated him like I treated everyone else.

“Jul, you’re home.” She smiled as though relieved.

“She nearly crashed,” Chad sneered. Denia’s blanched at once and I was sure I did too. I stared at Chad, bewildered. How could he be so insensitive? He raised an eyebrow at my glower and back at the pale face of Denia, finally comprehending what he’d done.

“Sorry, Denia,” he apologized softly. “I had… no idea.”

“Well, you should.” I scowled and crossed over to Denia. I held her fragile hand tenderly. “It’s okay. I’m fine. You can see that.”

Her wide, terrified eyes dropped on my warm smile and she relaxed her rigid pose. Inhaling deeply, she spoke softly, “Yes… I’m being silly. You can take care of yourself, Jul.”

“It was my fault, really,” Chad said, embarrassed. “I nearly crashed into her.”

My jaw dropped open. Is it me? Or is Chad seriously blurred today? It’s either that or he got a surgery and removed his brain. “Chad!” I hissed.

All of the little color in Denia’s cheeks was drained. Her breath drew, gasp, gasp, gasp, gasp. My face contorted in discomfort. She buried her face in my shoulder, her breath still dragging rapidly. I felt my face crumple in pain. “Denia…”

“I’m sorry, Denia!” Chad begged. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think! I’m so stupid!”

I threw him a darkly accusing look. Quietly, I patted Denia’s back and towed her into the house gently. The eldest butler, Brandon greeted us. “Mistress, is there anything I should get?”

I eyed him and shook my head, I didn‘t want to tire him anyway. He was getting old, fragile. From what I heard from Chad, he had been around since before he was born. His hair was graying and wrinkles were showing on his ancient yet warm and familiar face that overflowed.

He seemed to read my mind. “Should I call on someone younger?” he asked, his always bright blue eyes twinkling.

I looked at him, puzzled. He chuckled. I opened my mouth to apologize but once more, he knew what I was going to say. “No offence taken, Mistress Juliana.”

I smiled. “Thanks.” I turned my attention back to Denia. The marble spiral stairs were just upfront. I heaved her lightly towards it and up to her room. Her room was the first room on the right after the left stairs.

I set her on her bed gently. I looked around her room. It was long since I’d been in there and it was pretty small. I wasn’t close to Denia… quite detached, really. But I noticed the scent of gardenias since I stepped in.

The wallpapers were lilac with silver crosses over them, the floor covered with thick heliotrope-colored carpet. Her soft white bed faced the balcony. The sun was setting, right above the horizon. My eyes squinted as I looked at it, feeling slightly perplexed and mixed-up. The sky was brushed with orange, red, pink, purple, blue, white… the masterpiece of God, shimmering beautifully.

If only life was so simply beautiful.

I turned away from the setting sun and looked around the room. There was a periwinkle wardrobe and beside it was a desk in another shade of purple that I identified to be amethyst. On top of the bluish purple desk was a laptop — aubergine. I smiled; I forgot how obsessed she was with purple. I turned my attention to the natural centre of attention — her grand piano. Too bad she couldn’t get that purple too. I grinned sheepishly to myself. It was white.

I wondered why she stayed in a small room like this when there were so many larger rooms. I got my answer eventually… it was common sense. She’s a broken girl… she can’t help feeling empty all the time. And when you’re surrounded emptiness… you drown. That’s how I felt… before Danny came along. I intimidated people… not that I was unfriendly, but being the daughter of the rich and the famous, but not Danny… or Nessa for that matter. And since then, my friends just started gaining everyday. They saw me as who I was, not just a girl that didn’t talk when you didn’t prod her and had lots of money.

I looked out the window mildly. I heard from no one in my family, but from Danny… that Denia lost her boyfriend in that car accident. He remembered his name to be Edward Carlson. I was already eleven then. And I could hardly remember anything. Just tears and the rain, the smell of medicine burning my nose. And Daniel there, huddled up with a once tearful me.

It was since then that I’d turned unmistakably… ignorant of feelings. I refused to cry again. I was pretty sure… Danny was the only who saw… the only who knew… Mom and Dad were too busy, they didn’t even have time to take care of the unconscious Denia; Chad wasn’t home, he had no news of what happened yet; Danny refused to take Nessa to the hospital… where they’re grandfather died in not long ago. I wondered… how broken she felt. And Daniel… having see me as broken as that. That strong girl, broken, torn up inside because of seeing another once cheerful, strong girl torn physically and covered up in bandages and braces and IVs, hooked up to an oxygen tank and machines that didn’t mean anything to her. I felt gratitude that I didn’t have to face it alone and remorse for not being able to make it better.

She looked up suddenly. I would’ve jumped but I saw tears swimming and threateningly to drip from the rim of her eyes. I reached out and hugged her. I held her silently, as if it would make things better. But I knew, and she knew, not that she would never be healed but that she would never be the same again.

I snuck out of the room an hour or two later, having tucked my fragile, broken sister in bed. The look of peace in her face… I wondered if she was dreaming of Edward… I caught a glimpse of a picture of Denia and another guy. They were smiling happily in a way that made you think they were the luckiest, most precious couple on Earth. It clawed on me wildly — it’s been years since I saw Denia smile like that and it felt like decades. I assumed the guy to be Edward and just looking at him on the photo, I imagined that I’d really like him. With hair in the shade of burnt sienna, his eyes warm and hazel, matching Denia’s, and a strong, lanky muscled body. It was odd, how could I not remember… A guy like him would clearly leave a deep impression for any girl — even me. I walked absentmindedly down the hallway and passed the staircase, towards my room. I passed another door which was open.

“Hey, kid.” I looked into the door and saw Chad sitting there on his dark blue-sheeted bed with a sad, weary smile on his lips.

“Hey, Chad,” I greeted back, sure that my answering smile was just as fatigued.

“Sorry… about Gardenia…” he apologized, burying his face in his hands. He was in pain.

“Don’t apologize. Just don’t make me feel worse,” I whispered as I crossed his dark-shaded room towards him. I sat next to him.

He snorted. “Feel worse? I thought you enjoyed mocking me.” But he dropped the ignorant act when he caught sight of my expression. He was suddenly anxious. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” I asked back, unable to move the muscles of my face.

“You look… dead. I mean, gone. No, lifeless. Emotionless, I mean, yeah,” he explained, struggling to search for the right word.

I shook my head, the muscles of my face still unable to move. “She’s so broken.” My voice came out so emotionless, flat for saying something that hurt me so much emotionally.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, getting from anxious to jumpy.

“I… don’t know.” I shook my head harder, trying to clear the feeling of hardness on my face. I didn’t want to morph into an emotionless creature. It worked but then everything came crashing down.

Chad rubbed my shoulder. “You okay?”

I nodded. The first thing that occurred me was that I wanted to see Danny. Then I gasped, “Danny!”

“What?” He looked confused.

“I was supposed to go see Daniel and Nessa!” I jumped up and ran to my room.

“Be careful!” he called after me.

I rushed into my bedroom, shutting the door. Just then, my cell rang. I jumped in surprise. I picked up, breathless, “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Danny’s voice transferred from the other end of the receiver.

I sighed, it was good to hear his voice. “I’ll be right over. Just gimme some time. I’ll explain later, okay?”

“Sure thing. Careful. See you,” he answered.

“See you,” I replied and hung up. Dragging close the azure velvet curtains of my tall crystal windows, I caught a glimpse of my servants eating dinner outside the courtyard. After taking a moment to admire their constant effort and happy they're enjoying themselves — by the looks of it, I immediately ran into my bathroom and flung the door shut behind me. I hurried to clean up thoroughly.

Wrapped in a towel, I ran back out into my room and raked through my teak-made wardrobe. I pulled on a pair of beige culottes and a white halter — I was delicate to the hot weather, I hated it. I filed through the lower section of my wardrobe that was stuffed with bags and pulled out my beige and black crisscross duffel.

I ran my fingers swiftly through my caramel hair after picking out a pair of clothes, my wallet and my phone. Brushing the messy fringe aside from my eyes, I threw the bag over my shoulders and pulled open my room door.

Doubling down the stairs, my favorite and attending maid, Irina watched me, puzzled. “Where are you going, Miss?”

Irina was only twenty-three, she came from a poor family in the countryside of Canada. Chad had picked her out of the streets during a rainy day, ragged, when she was only thirteen. Mom and Dad took her in as our servant, attending to little me. I always had the impression that Chad and Irina was in an old movie, status-torn scene. Irina was fair-skinned and fair-haired, and quite short — shorter than Denia.

“Young Miss? Where are you heading? You haven’t eaten…” she reminded me in a worried voice.

I shook my head with a smile. “Not eating. Chad is though. And send something for Denia. I’m heading to Dan’s,” I explained and instructed gushingly. Then I added, “It’s Juliana. I told you that, call me by my name.”

“Yes, Miss,” she smiled, amused by my last request which she pointedly ignored. She bowed and attended to my other requests immediately.

“Juliana, Irina, Juliana! Bye!” I waved as I ran out into the courtyard, squeezing through the crowd of my confused services and towards the car park.

I zoomed off into town, restraining from hitting over eighty. The traffic was piling in this Friday night. I grimaced as some idiot cursed at me for nearly knocking him off his motorbike — though he was the one who took the avenue instead of the motorway. My car skidded, twice the speed as before — hundred and two. More shouts came from different directions — cursing and throwing fists at me. I felt a repulsively stupid pulse to shout back but I knew I was going way off speed limit.

I slowed down slightly and glimpsed the signboard showing that the speed limit was only sixty. I grinned sheepishly and slowed from eight to sixty. Turning down another avenue, I got to a roundabout and took three o’ clock. The traffic was less there but still, I had to keep my speed reasonable. I was in housing estates in no time; I stopped the car by the side walk in front of the Hales house.

“Juliana!” Nessa bounced out of the house as soon as I got out of the car; anxious and eager. I had a suspicion that she’d been looking out the window every five minutes.

“Hey, Ness,” I greeted her, smiling sheepishly. “Where’s Da—?”

“Danny!” she shouted. I looked at her bewilderedly. Danny came running out, unusually pale.

“Jul!” he said my name as he reached me; he sounded strained, as usual.

“Hey, Dan,” I greeted him too, wary of his expression.

“What happened to you?” he demanded, suddenly angry.

I shrugged. “Nearly crashed.”

“Crashed?!” he shrieked. “You nearly crashed?!”

I covered my ears with my hands. “There is no need to shout,” I said the words like I was reading a bedtime story, distinct and a strange rise and fall tone, as I stared at him with my eyes wide and pop-like.

“There is every need to shout! How the hell did you nearly crash?!” he retorted.

I explained, sighing and rolling my eyes. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Doesn’t explain why you were so late.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes again. “Denia… Chad was stupid enough to say we both nearly crashed to her.”

Danny nodded seriously. “That’s it then.”

“Yes.” I sighed. “That’s it.”

He nodded, his eyes closed. Nessa who had been standing aside and watching us debate each other took my hand and towed me inside followed by Danny.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hale,” I smiled. “Sorry to intrude… again.”

“No, that’s fine,” dear,” Mrs. Hale laughed. “We love having you around.”

“That’s right, Jul! C’mere! Let’s eat already; I’m starving!” Mr. Hale chuckled.

Ah, they were so kind.

I sat between Nessa and Daniel, chatting naturally, relaxed. I wished I had a family like this… normal and relaxing. The frustration rushed through my mind again and I forced it away, concentrating on chewing.

Daniel and Nessa resembled their parents very much. Mr. Hale had the same blond hair — straight though — as Nessa and those sharp green eyes; Mrs. Hale’s hair matched Daniel’s bronze hair and had turquoise eyes instead of green. They were somehow my second parents. And I loved them, from the bottom of my heart. I couldn’t think of a way to repay them — they refused to accept any gifts, even, if too expensive, for their children.

After dinner, I helped Mrs. Hale with the dishes, telling her about school — the play, my grades and about Danny and Nessa‘s behavior. I always settled to talking about stuff like these with her. It was comfortable to be with her — someone kind and warm, caring and loving — even easier than being with my own mother.

On the other hand, Nessa never understood how I know how to do chores — and why I do that, as a matter a fact — with all those people to serve me. But with Irina around me, I’d actually pleaded her to teach me everything she knows — cooking, sewing, cleaning. If there’s one thing about me not as a tomboyish girl, I could do anything any girl could do, better even.

After clearing everything, I sat with Danny and Nessa — who were watching ESPN intently — while I read. I never remembered but I seemed to have dozed off. In the middle of the night, I felt someone heave me but was too tired to protest. “It’s okay, Jul. I’m taking you to Nessa’s room,” Danny soothed as I trashed slightly.

Sure enough, he dropped me on the extra bed of Nessa’s room where I always slept. “Goodnight, Jul…” he bade me and went off to bed himself. I sighed before I fell back into my slumber. Bother my brother. I was exhausted because of his stupid mouth. But then again… he was just being honest. Still, bother, brother.