"Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” I hear a masculine voice yell from around the corner. Turning the corner, I see something that is simultaneously completely ridiculous and not surprising in the slightest.
Robin and Sparrow stand in the hall, surrounded by a crowd of other students. Robin, the slightly taller twin with a bit darker brown hair and slightly thinner face, is wearing some kind of fancy suit complete with a flower in the lapel that is probably supposed to look like he’s playing Romeo, but instead makes him look more like a mafia hitman. Next to him, the shorter twin Sparrow is wearing a giant tomato red party dress which fits rather awkwardly on his not exactly feminine body, plus matching awkwardly smeared lipstick and huge fake eyelashes.
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet!” screams Robin, getting down on one knee and holding up a flower he seemed to have magically produced while I wasn’t looking up to Sparrow.
“That’s my line,” mutters Sparrow. “I’m Juliet, she’s supposed to say that.”
“Whatever,” quietly replied Robin. He then yells dramatically, “Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this son of York! And all the clouds that loured on our great house, uh, something about the ocean!”
Sparrow notices me standing behind the crowd of mostly freshmen, and yells, “Hey Alex! You wanna join us?”
I take a moment to formulate my answer. “Sorry, it’s Romeo and Juliet, not Romeo, Juliet, and the random guy they picked up off the subway or something.”
Really, I’m just not an insane theater nerd like them. Screaming Shakespeare in the halls seems to me more like a torture method than a good time.
The bell rings, meaning class starts in five minutes. Both twins stop acting and run towards the nearest bathroom, grabbing bags which hopefully contain normal clothes as they go.
I continue walking down the hall, heading towards language arts in room 206, my first class according to the schedule I carry. In class, I take a seat toward the back, but on an aisle so I can see the whiteboard without having to try to look over the heads of my classmates of reasonable height. Cal jumps into the seat next to me, tossing her neon green and pink book bag onto the table.
“You saw the twins?” I ask, hoping she at least managed to get a glimpse of their antics on her way in.
“Yup,” She says. “Shakespeare this time, right?”
I nod. “Much better than last year’s start of school prank with those stupid hats.”
Last year, both of them wore the most outrageous hats they could find through the full last day of school. If I remember right, Sparrow had a bright red hat styled to look like a cartoony squid, while Robin had managed to find a huge straw hat that actually was covered in fruit, including a pineapple he had to take off by the end of the day because it was too heavy.
“And the jalapeno cupcakes for their birthday,” Cal shivers dramatically.
“Oh Odysseus,” I say. “Those were disgusting. They so should’ve warned us.”
The teacher walks in and shushes us, and our conversation ends.
by 
