I’m Starting to Think We’re Teens in a Modernized Shakespeare Movie

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Hold up. I know we’re busy with last-minute decorating for the best prom this school’s ever seen. But something is rotten in the state of Verona High. Exhibit A: my phrasing just now.

Like, what is our deal? Why is our friend group a bunch of guys with all these rivalries? Why do our parents have weird, borderline-medieval rules about which girls we can date? Who keeps lighting all these candles?

I’m starting to feel like we might not be the regular, movie-gorgeous teens we think we are. I’m starting to suspect that we might be involved in a contemporary take on Shakespeare. No, seriously, hear me out, Bassanio. Also, wow—Bassanio. Why do half the guys I know have an “-anio” name? Did our moms all give birth at Ren Faires?

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