"What about a bird?" Lativia asked.
"It also returns if it stops flapping its wings," I said, throwing the book again to make my point. "Everything eventually returns." I handed the book back to Hortense, whose eyes held a newfound respect. In my dream, I was a genius. How fun.
"What dost thou read in Manhattan, Mimi?" the woman with the mole asked.
"Mostly plays. Lots and lots of plays."
Slow yet determined footsteps echoed in the hallway and all seven heads turned to face the door. The women gasped and tucked their books into the tops of their thick stockings. The unanimous reaction made me a bit nervous, like I was about to get caught doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing. Each woman quickly retrieved her embroidery and posed with needle in hand. The door opened and a tall woman with a plucked hairline entered. Such a strange thing to do to one's forehead. Everyone stood and curtsied and said, "Good day, Lady Capulet."
***
Reading Group Guide for Saving Juliet
1. Mimi fights for her right to choose her own path and become a doctor. Juliet fights to avoid an unwanted marriage. Even though parents and other figures in your life try to look out for your best interests, sometimes they do not see your wants and desires. In your life, have you ever had to fight against someone in power to gain your independence?
2. When Mimi begins to have a panic attack, she chants "om ya." What do you do when you are stressed? Do you think Mimi fakes her stage fright?
3. The play's feud began when Lord Montague rejected Lady Capulet. Can you think of any other times, in history, literature, or your own life, when holding a grudge has led to a drawn-out conflict?
4. Mimi is very concerned with helping Juliet find her happy ending, even when it may mean that she won't be able to get home. If you were Mimi, would you have helped Juliet? Have you ever helped anyone even though it could have hurt yourself?
5. When Mimi kisses Benvolio, she is bored with the kiss. But when she kisses Troy, she has an intense reaction. Juliet is only revived when Romeo kisses her. Do you believe in true love's kiss?
6. How do you feel about Mimi's mother? Do you think it was fair of her to take the money from Mimi's trust fund? Do you think she changes at all in the end? How does she compare to Lady Capulet?
7. Can you think of anyone like Rosaline who has dedicated his or her life to a cause? Do you think you could ever do this?
8. Romeo and Juliet are often described as "star-crossed lovers," meaning that their fate was predetermined by forces beyond their control. Do you believe in fate, or that one's own choices determine the future? Or a combination of the two? Explain.
9. Why do you think Lady Capulet betrayed Mimi and Troy in the end? And why did she let Romeo and Juliet go? Do you think she is evil, or does she have some positive characteristics?
10. At the end of the book, Troy and Mimi discover they hadn't really known each other prior to their adventure. Their opinions were based on appearances before taking the time to get to know each other. Has this happened in your own life? Have you judged someone without knowing his or her true character? Did you change your opinion after you got to know this person?
11. Mimi says we have to pick up a quill and write our own story. What do you think she is trying to tell us?
12. If you could go back in time, what time period would you go to? Why? If you could enter a story, which one would you choose? Why?
13. If you were casting the movie version of Saving Juliet, who would you cast in the leading roles? Why?
14. Shakespeare's Verona is a fictional setting in both Romeo and Juliet and Saving Juliet, Which details of the setting are your favorite? Is there anything about this time period that makes you happy to be living in the twenty-first century? Why or why not?
15. How does this story compare to Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet'! What do you think happens to Romeo and Juliet after they leave Verona?
Katrina is one wish away from her deepest desire.
Now if only she could decide what that might be...
Suzanne Selfors
***
COFFEEHOUSE ANGEL
***
Read on for a sneak peek at the next funny, heartfelt novel from Suzanne Selfors.
***
Two
Last year, this guy named Aaron started calling me Coffeehouse Girl. At least it wasn't Hurricane Girl, the obvious choice, since my name is Katrina. And it was better than being called Lard Ass, or Crater Face, or Homo--delightful titles bestowed on some of my classmates.
"Hey, it's Coffeehouse Girl."
"Wanna take my order, Coffeehouse Girl?"
"Hey, Coffeehouse Girl, why don't you introduce Lard Ass to the concept of nonfat milk?"
His teasing wasn't a big deal. Neither the popular girl nor the shunned girl, I existed somewhere in the mundane middle--the perfect place for the untalented. Fortunately, the nickname hadn't spread beyond Aaron and his buddies. And it didn't feel like a malicious nickname. It was just a factual statement. That's who I was--the girl who worked in that weird old-lady coffeehouse. And that's what I smelled like, not like an old lady but like freshly ground coffee. Sometimes the grounds got caught in the hem of my shirt or on my shoes. Sometimes the percolator's steam scented my hair. Aaron's buddies would sniff me.
"Coffeehouse Girl smells gooooood."
"I'd like to drink her up."
"I've got a grande for you, Coffeehouse Girl."
I wonder if it's a universal law that boys become annoying turds around age eleven and slide downhill from there.
But they never said those things to me when Vincent was around.
Vincent didn't have a nickname. He could have, the way-he always smelled like chlorine, the way his goggles left imprints around his eyes, the way he shaved his legs before races. But no one bothered Vincent. He had broken every swimming record held by Nordby High. Though swimming didn't draw the same kind of frenzy as basketball or football, the line of swimming trophies in the gym's trophy case couldn't be missed.
His size didn't hurt either. Half Native American, half Norwegian, he looked like the offspring of Geronimo and Conan the Barbarian, minus the killer attitude and weaponry. In other words, he was an absolute hunk. So while others bore the weight of Freak or Loser, Vincent got left alone, which was exactly how he liked it.
Vincent and his dad belonged to the Suquamish tribe, as did about a quarter of the students at Nordby High. The most famous member of the tribe was Chief Seattle, also known as Chief Seattle. The tribe owned most of the land to the east of Nordby, and it had plans to build a huge casino and resort. But until the resort's completion, there was little tribal money for higher education. And Vincent's dad didn't bring in much from his job as a security guard. So Vincent needed that swimming scholarship.
Monday morning always began with an assembly in the gym. Paper coffee cups with Java Heaven cloud logos overflowed from the trash can. Kids hung out at Java Heaven because it offered the trendy stuff like smoothies, energy drinks, and iced espresso. Senior citizens hung out at Anna's because it offered the stuff senior citizens prefer, like percolated gut-eating coffee, nondairy creamer, and sugar that comes in cubes.
Elizabeth, my best girl friend, waved from the bleachers. I sat between her and a freshman I didn't know. Vincent sat with the swim team a few rows lower. If this had been a picnic, or a movie, or that God-awful monster truck rally he had dragged me to, then Vincent would have sat next to me. But in high school, you gather at the watering hole with your herd. Vincent's herd all wore matching Nordby Otters Swim Team sweatshirts.
I didn't have a herd.
"Face is sitting down there," Elizabeth informed me. She always knew exactly where Face was sitting. You'd think she had stuck a GPS unit up his butt or something. "Face is soooo cute."
She said that at least four times a day.
Face was Elizabeth's code name for David Cord. She didn't want anyone to know that she had a killer crush on him. Face was not a
member of the mundane middle. His herd wore polo shirts and spent most rainless afternoons at the Nordby Golf Course.
"Good morning, students," Principal Carmichael greeted from center court. "As you all know, winter break begins next Wednesday." Screams of glee erupted. Students stomped their feet. Mr. Rubens, the phys ed teacher, jumped out of his chair and blew his whistle. The enthusiasm settled back to boredom.
The principal cleared her throat. "We have a lot to accomplish before winter break, but guidance counselor appointments are of the highest priority. Yellow notices have been placed in lockers to remind those students who have not yet met this requirement. These appointments are mandatory."
Someone behind me hollered, "Fascist!"
Carmichael scowled. "The yearly consultation with the guidance counselor is an important part of your education, especially for those of you who are planning to go to a college or university." She adjusted the microphone. It shrieked like it always did. Elliott, the school's technical genius, ran out to fix it like he always did. No one yelled "Nerd!" Elliott was going to bring teleportation to the masses or invent liquid time or something and we all knew it.
"Thank you, Elliott." Principal Carmichael adjusted her glasses. "And now Heidi Darling has an announcement, so please give her your undivided attention."
Elizabeth and I groaned as Heidi strode to the microphone. It was the whole perky thing that made us cringe. Natural perkiness is digestible in small amounts. But she was too wide-eyed, too smiley, too bouncy. What kind of a carbon fingerprint does a person leave after maintaining that level of energy?
"Listen up," Heidi said in her clipped way. "This year, my dad's coffeehouse, Java Heaven, is sponsoring the Winter Solstice Festival, so that means that it's going to be the biggest and best festival ever." She paused expectantly. No one applauded, but she kept on smiling. "So the thing is, we need help, people. The decorations don't get set up on their own." Groans filled the gym. Heidi planted her hands on her hips. "My dad said he'll give Java Heaven coupons to those who volunteer, good for a free sixteen-ounce Mocha Cloud Frappe, which is organic because we care about the environment."
"Hey, Coffeehouse Girl." Aaron, the annoying turd, sat behind me. "You got anything free to give out? I'd like to taste your frappe."
Elizabeth jabbed him in the shin with her pencil, then leaned close to me. "Maybe I should ask Face to go to the festival."
"Go for it," I said encouragingly, even though I knew she would never ask him. Elizabeth could jab guys with pencils, she could intimidate them with her big boobs and her in-your-face attitude, but she had no idea how to ask one out. We were both pretty pathetic when it came to guys. Neither of us had ever been on an actual date.
Heidi waved one of the Java Heaven coupons. "If we show our school spirit, we can make this the best Solstice ever. Gooooo Otters!"
Heidi Darling was like a virus, the way she invaded everything--every school club, every committee and event. Last spring she had painted a mural on the cafeteria wall with the theme "school spirit." Why would a person want to do all that stuff? And who really cares about "school spirit"? What's the point?
"I highly advise each of you to volunteer and help with the festival decorations," Principal Carmichael said, taking the microphone from Heidi. "Volunteering will look good on your college applications."
And there's the point.
Our main focus as teenagers, according to just about everyone, is to jam-pack our lives with activities so that we can get into an Ivy League college and therefore succeed in life. Because that's the way it works. Weak application = crappy college. Crappy college = crappy job. Crappy job = crappy life. In other words, poverty, alcoholism, obesity, and depression. It's enough stress to make your hair fall out. By the time Heidi Darling graduated, her college application would be the size of an encyclopedia. She was on the fast track to Har-friggin'-vard.
"Thank you, Heidi," Principal Carmichael said. Heidi speed-walked back to the bleachers. "So, students, remember to see your guidance counselor before--" The principal stopped speaking as the gym's double doors slammed open.
A strange guy entered. He wore a khaki kilt, a ragged sweater, and sandals with no socks. A satchel hung from his shoulder and his long brown hair was all messed up, as if he'd been sleeping in an alley.
"May I help you?" the principal asked. "Young man, may I help you?"
"I apologize for the intrusion, madame." He walked toward the bleachers. Maybe he was a new student, but that still didn't explain why he had been sleeping in our alley.
"He's sooo cute," Elizabeth whispered. I usually ignored Elizabeth's declarations of "cute." With each boyfriendless month that passed, her standards lowered. She was dangerously close to substituting "cute" for "alive." However, the guy did look much better under the bright gym lights than that yellow alley light.
"Excuse me," Principal Carmichael said. "You're not a student here. We have strict security codes."
"I won't be but a wee moment." He stopped walking and scanned the bleachers. "I've come seeking a lassie. I mean, a young lady." A roar of student laughter broke the tension.
"You're not seeking anyone until you check in at the office," the principal said. "Mr. Rubens will show you the way. Mr. Rubens?"
Mr. Rubens put his hand on the guy's shoulder. "Come with me, young man."
The guy calmly slid from Mr. Rubens's grasp and walked right up to the first row. "I must reward her good deed." Then he pointed. "There she is."
Oh God.
Suzanne Selfors, Saving Juliet
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