How to Make a Human

"And I'm so fucked up that I can barely stand right now."

And then he passed out.

Oma's eyebrows shot up as Shane's body hit the ground.

"Couldn't anyone catch him at least?" Oma snapped, bending down next to Shane and lifting his eyelid. "Well, he's out like light. Mae Beth, dear, grab me a pillow and a blanket. Ben, put him on the couch. Bobbie, get him a bowl for his vomit."

"He hasn't puked," I deadpanned.

"He will, oh, he will," Oma sighed, shuffling off to the kitchen. I followed my Oma into the kitchen to grab a bowl. It was silent as Oma pulled a loaf of bread, turkey, lettuce, and cheese out of the fridge. She began chopping the lettuce with a large knife and throwing me unreadable looks. It made me fear for my life.

"Aren't you going to ask what I think about this fiasco?" she asked after a minute as I searched through the cupboards for a bowl.

"… What do you think about this fiasco?"

Oma sighed like the question was completely out of the blue, put down the knife, and turned to face me, "Well, I'm not surprised, if that's what you're asking."

"Was that what I was asking?"

Oma shrugged acting like she didn't know what I was asking even though she told me what to ask… if that makes sense.

"Just tell me this," she told me, picking up the knife again and chopping the lettuce vehemently. "Did you know that… your ginger-head friend was a junkie?"

"I don't think he's a junkie…" I hedged.

Before Oma could respond Ben sprinted into the kitchen, sliding on the tile and hitting the counter that Oma was chopping lettuce on.

"Oma! He's puking!"

"Damn it, Bobbie!" Oma snapped, "I told you to get a bowl!"

I looked down to the bowl in my hands, "But you were talking to me and--"

"Just go! Get him the bowl!"

I ran into the kitchen where Mae was rolling her eyes and laying out a comforter on the couch.

"Where's Shane?"

"In the bathroom puking." Mae sounded pissed. Not that I blamed her.

"And Demetri?"

"Holding back his girlfriend's hair," she deadpanned.

"What?" Sarcasm was lost on me.

"He's with Shane," she reiterated.

"Oh." There was a pause. "I guess I should go check on him."

"Yeah, you do that," she sneered, fluffing the comforter.

"Yeah, I think I will." But I didn't. Apparently, in Bobbieland the phrase "I think I will" translates to "I don't want to see Demetri's stupid face and smell Shane's barf."

"So…" Look for a distraction, look for a distraction, TV, couch, bowl, comforter… Comforter! Procrastinate, procrastinate, procrastinate. "Is that the comforter we got from Aunt Laurie? It looks--"

"Just go!" Mae snapped, interrupting me.

"Oh, yeah, of course… That's what I was going to do."

Pause, bounce on heels, smile, receive glare, shudder, slouch, huff, cross arms, drag feet to bathroom, bitterly knock on door.

"Yeah, hold on." Demetri's voice was muffled and when he opened the door I saw his sleeve pulled over his hand, covering his nose and mouth. Shane's head was rested against the toilet seat which was full of a rust colored liquid. I nearly gagged, so I averted my eyes to Shane's sweaty forehead, which was not much more aesthetically pleasing than the vomit, but better none the less.

Shane lifted his head to look at me through heavy eyelids and mumbled, "Shit, Olive, you fine as fuck. And your toilet is a giant ice cube."

"Thanks." I nodded. "So, do you need me here or can I go?"

"You can go," Shane mumbled against the toilet seat.

"Watch it. Bare asses have been on that thing," I warned.

"Oh. Okay," Shane mumbled.

"When you feel well enough to go lay down, we have a bed laid out for you on the couch. And I'll put a bowl over there in case you want to throw up again."

"Super." He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. "I keep thinking I'm going to puke again. I mean, fuck, man."

Demetri nodded and backed out of the bathroom with me. Instead of going to the living room, I merely closed the bathroom door and bounced on my heels awkwardly, holding the bowl against my stomach.

Demetri stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked at the family portraits on the wall. I drummed my fingers against the bowl and also examined the pictures. When I was little and insisted on short hair so that I could match my mom. The result? I had a blonde afro until I was twelve and my family kept the pictures to prove it.

"So…" Demetri mumbled, "About what Shane said.

Oh, that. Play it cool, Bobbie, just play it cool. "Oh, he said something? I must have missed it. I mean, he said a lot of things. What did he say? Not everything, but just the part you want to talk about."

"The part about me liking… you?" he hedged.

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, before this goes too far, I thought I should, you know, clarify," he stumbled over his words and fidgeted with whatever was in his pockets. I looked at the carpet to avoid eye contact. So what if he liked me? Well, I'd be flattered… but confused. He's an ass. What if I'm the ass? What if we start dating? I don't even know how to kiss! I'm like a child! Child. What if we have children? I'm not ready to be a mom! Is it creepy that I'm thinking about that? Am I creepy? Why didn't I go through this when I was fifteen when it was normal? Why am I not normal? Demetri's not so bad… I could be with him. We would balance each other. Maybe that's just an excuse. I'm making excuses. Crap.

On the other hand, what if he doesn't like me? I'm no model… or an athlete… or particularly smart… And now I'm insecure? Shit, that's not attractive. How do you even attract somebody? I guess it doesn't matter. I don't actually like him, so it's not like my heart will break… my ego will be wounded, but I can build that up with ice cream and chick flicks. I don't really think I should be--

"Bobbie?" Demetri drew me out of my panic land.

"Sorry, sorry, carry on."

"So… just to get this straight. Shane was higher then a kite when he said that I liked you… like, I never told him that… I'm sure his mind was just, you know, twisting shit around and he assumed that I liked you. I'm sorry, but I don't like you." Ouch. "In fact, I think we actually kinda clash." Double ouch. "I don't know how to say this with out sounding like an asshole, so I'm just going to say it--" I wish you would. "I don't like you. Not like Helga likes Arnold and not like… friends. Just friendly acquaintances."

Bomb to the head.

"Sorry," he added again.

I don't know what I was expecting, and I can't say that I was surprised or hurt because I myself didn't like him. But my ego was hurt. My ego was hurt badly. Having no romantic experience, if he professed his love to me, I would have been smitten right then and there. Forget flaws, forget distaste for each other, I would have tricked myself into liking him. And so is the flaw of beginner's romance. Ask any thirteen year old, they'll know.

So, for the first time in my life, I was able to play it cool.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I kind of figured as much. I knew we weren't actual friends… well, when you told me that at that amusement park--"

"Charlie's."

"Yeah, at Charlie's… anyway, you made it clear you didn't like me, so I'm not surprised or anything. Oh, and I don't like you… so no hurt feelings, I guess."

"Oh. Okay. Cool."

There was a silence that was broken by Shane's retching noises coming from the bathroom.

"Wow," Demetri sighed.

"What?"

"I just wasn't expecting you to take that all that well," he shrugged nonchalantly.

I wanted to maintain how cool I looked (a four on the one to ten scale, beating out my usual 0 by a landslide), but my interest was piqued.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… well, I know you didn't like me, but I kind of assumed that you'd be offended that I don't like you."

"Oh… well, I'm definitely not." I was.

"I was worried that you would have all those 'what if' scenarios." I did.

"Oh, that would be weird."

"Yeah, I'm just surprised. Girls like you generally do that."

There was a pause.

"Girls like me?"

"Yeah… not really socially experienced."

I'm sure my eyebrows flew off my face. They were higher than they ever were. Demetri was finally at ease, leaning against the wall and examining the pictures.

"What do you mean by 'do that'?" I pushed.

"You know, the scenarios… like, even though you don't like a guy, the prospect of him liking you gives your confidence a boost and you fool yourself into liking him."

I looked down at the carpet, scratching my nails lightly against the bowl. That was exactly what I was doing.

"It's kind of like how the horny senior guys hit on the freshmen and appease their egos and then… well, they do it."

"Okay, yeah, I got it. You can stop talking now." Where was his tact?

Demetri looked at me and pushed himself off of the wall, "I'm sorry if--"

"Oh! It's nothing don't worry about it! About anything! You didn't do anything… so you have nothing to apologize for. My feelings weren't hurt… well, beyond like general ego damage, and it's not like I'm a freshman… Not that there is anything wrong with that, but like you were saying, there is always that awkward stage. A stage that I don't deal with."

There was a pause where Demetri just stared at me, analyzing my facial expression which was a mix of a squirrel storing nuts in its mouth, a toothpaste commercial smile, glossy eyes, and a three year old's runny nose. Recognition washed over his face and I knew that he knew he had described me spot on and hurt my feelings.

"I'm going to check on Shane." I breezed past him into the bathroom and closed the door.