Renny Boy

“Man, this sucks!” Soria pouted, crossing her arms. Across from us, Luke and Brendan shared a guilty smirk. The cafeteria was abuzz with pre-Halloween conversation and nearly every student was decked out in some combination of orange and black. “I can’t go trick-or-treating.”

“Why not?” I inquired.

She gritted her teeth. “’Cause, well, first, the neighborhood isn’t even finished, and second, everyone who lives there already is a bunch of bible thumpers.”

Luke sipped his milk nonchalantly. I knew he didn’t celebrate Halloween because of religion.

“So? Hijack another neighborhood,” Brendan suggested.

“I can’t even do that. My dad’s goin’ to this party – adults only, a’course – and I can’t go out alone.” Soria stabbed her food as if to vent. I could tell she really was pissed.

I jumped at the opportunity. “I could get my mom to let you go with me.”

She gasped sharply, coughing on her own spit. “Sweet.”

“Yeah, I really don’t wanna be Jason Boorhees accompanied by his mother,” I smirked.

“You’re goin’ as Jason? Fail,” Brendan butted in. “Im’ma be a gorilla.”

“You’re always a gorilla!” Luke added. “You were one since fourth grade. You can’t tell me that stupid costume still fits.”

Brendan shrugged. “Better’n nothing.”

- - -

Soria had come to my house on Halloween night with a mess of yellow fabric in her arms. On her back was a backpack with some other clothes to change into (her dad must really tolerate me or something, since he let her sleep over, even though it was a school night!).

As it turns out, she was going as a popular anime character – a certain electric mouse, to be specific.

I was surprised at first that there was actually a costume in her size, but then I remembered that she was pretty short for her age. I never told her that, though.

She also had an obviously homemade baseball cap with the pointed ears. Before we left, I helped her paint two red dots on her cheeks, too. My costume was easy: just slap on a mask and get a plastic weapon at Mal-Wart for ten bucks and borrow a jacket from my dad. Easy as hell.

“Bring your phone, Ren!” Mom had urged me. I did.

Pretty soon we were in the heart of my neighborhood, soaking up the humid air of Florida. I felt like I was being weighed down by a winter coat or something; it was so hot. Before we visited three houses I’d already sweat a good pint. Probably the mask.

I wasn’t talking too much, either. To be honest it was because I really didn’t have the energy to talk, but if anybody asked, I just said it was a part of the act. “Why’re you so quiet tonight?” Soria had asked. “I’m Jason. Shhh,” I had replied.

God, I really do hate Florida. Even on the one night when everyone wanted it to be freezing, it had to be hot. It was so stupid. God was probably way up high laughing at all the stupid people sweating their asses off down there.

Soria grabbed my arm to get my attention. “Dude, we’re like the oldest ones getting candy.”

I smiled, but she couldn’t see it behind my mask. “Everybody probably thinks we’re pedophiles.”

She snorted a laugh. “Hah. Yeah, all the kids here’re ugly as sin. I’d hate to live here.”

“You’re mean.”

“Well…” she shrugged.

It got dark pretty fast, but just because the sun wasn’t shining, that didn’t mean it wasn’t hot. God, it was hot, too.

At one point this little kid ran up to Soria and put his hands on his hips like he freakin’ knew he was the cat’s pajamas. “Oh, wow, you sure are scary,” he boasted, oozing with sarcasm.

“Kind of ironic coming from a kid dressed like a pro wrestler,” I defended, glad my face was hidden. If I weren’t wearing a mask I probably wouldn’t have had the balls to say it.

“Shut up,” the tot growled. “You can’t see me.”

“Jesus Christ. You’re the epitome of why I hate kids,” Soria sighed. “When I was your age I was being taught not to tell people to shut up.”

He lunged as if to overcompensate for his ridiculous getup. Neither of us flinched.

“I could kill a man. I’d be scared,” he warned, waving his hand in front of his face.

“Oh yeah, I’m scared of a pussy on steroids,” she rolled her eyes.

“Hey, shut up! You’re just jealous! Go crawl in a hole!” he spat, walking off. And when we turned around to watch him, he flipped us the dirty bird.

“Hey little prick, you wanna die?!” Soria called out, red in the face. She almost ran after him, but I held her back.

“Chill!” I commanded, grasping her middle. Eventually, she settled and we walked onward.

I just kept getting hotter. My t-shirt was soaked in sweat and the jacket was most likely visibly wet. I was getting tired, fast. Ultimately I peeled my mask off and slowed to a stop, Soria right beside me.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Man, it’s hot out.”

“No shit.”

And we kept on walking.

A couple houses later my phone went off. I felt the ringtone through my jeans and answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Ren! Listen,” Brendan started. I could hear an A/C and people chatting in the background.

“What’re you calling me now for?”

“I can’t come to school tomorrow. Tell me what goes on in our classes.”

“Why not…?”

He was silent, then he sighed. “I’m in juvie.”

“What?!”

“I said I’m in juvie!”

“How’d you get in juvie?!”

Soria looked at me funny.

“I jumped out of a bush and scared the crap out of some old fart, and the old fucker charged for assault…” Brendan trailed off, uttering the swear word quietly.

“Why’d you call me for? I thought they only gave you one call.”

“Uh, nobody’s at my house, and they’re tryin’ to get at my parents. I was gonna call Luke, but he’s out bowling with his folks, so…yeah. Just, uh, you know, checkin’ in.”

“Okay…?”

“Shit. My dad’s here. Gotta go.”

Before I could say, “Bye,” he hung up. For a second I gave my phone a weird look, but then shrugged it off and flipped it shut.

“Brendan’s in juvie?” Soria said casually.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I think it’s funny how you automatically assume it’s Brendan.”

She shrugged and smiled as we trudged along.

After a while I lost track of where we were. The street signs were becoming unfamiliar and I had to fight to lift my feet up.

“Uh, Ren, where are we?” Soria asked.

I gulped, then shrugged. “I, uh…I dunno.”

I had stopped walking completely. My legs felt like lead. I lifted the mask off my face again and dropped my pillowcase of candy. My legs tingled as if somebody were whacking cactuses at them.

“Whoa, man, you alright?” she gasped, grabbing my arm.

By then I was seeing stars. I didn’t know if I was supposed to nod or just flat out say no. “Uh…”

She stood in front of me, furrowing her brow. “You’re like, really red. C’mon,” she ushered, tugging me over to the side of the road. I ended up stumbling onto the curb, holding onto her shoulder, so freaking out of it. “Sit.”

I did what was told and she towered above me, blocking out the streetlights’ glow. There were little kids walking past who stopped to stare, but we ignored them. Soria pulled off my jacket and that’s when I realized just how sweaty I really was.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, “You’re, like, glistening.”

I laughed a little, sorta kinda tripping out. “Glistening.”

The stars were getting more intense. Sounds sounded like they were miles away. But the feeling of touch was still in tact; it was actually more intense. Man, I really felt it when Soria held me around my shoulders.

“Please tell me you’re okay,” she sighed. “The last thing I want is to be stranded.”

“I’m okay, then,” I mumbled.

She wiped her hands on her costume. “You thirsty?”

I nodded. My tongue was so dry it was a delicacy if I could find some spit of my own to drink.

She stood up and patted my hair. “I’m gonna go see if any houses have water for ya.”

I felt a little better. Sweat was starting to evaporate off my arms and hair. The stars were dying down, but I was starting to get a killer headache.

Soria came back holding a bottle of water that was so cold that when I grabbed it, I flinched a little. “Here,” she said, sitting down next to me.

I chugged that sucker, in, like, ten seconds flat, tossing it into a nearby trashcan.

She looked at me and asked if I was alright. “You wanna call your mom to pick us up?”

I shook my head. “Don’t even know where we are.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

I snickered. “I really don’t.”

- - -

Back at my house, we sifted through our candy in our pajamas, bargaining on trades and arguing over which crappy horror movie we should watch from the On-Demand thing on my TV.

Soria grabbed at my neat pile of bubble gum. I grabbed her hand and forced it away. “Get your own!” I told her.

“Look man, I’ll trade you,” she urged. “Two pixie stix for one piece.”

“What flavor?”

“Um…orange.”

“Make it blue and then we’ll talk.”

“Aw, crap…”

Then came the whole debate over the horror movie. I argued in favor of Killer Kooks from Outer Space. She, however, wanted the second Nightmare on Main Street movie.

“Just listen to the name! It’s gonna be awesome!” I pushed.

“No! Nightmare on Main Street 2’s the crappiest movie ever. You’ll love it,” she smirked.

Unfortunately, she won and we had to sit through her movie of choice. She was right. It was terrible. Oh well, better than actually being scared.

At one point Soria had nonchalantly laid her legs across my lap, her eyes fixed on the TV screen like it was nothing at all to her. I had stared at her for a second, but she didn’t notice.

After the movie, Dad got out the air mattress, blew it up, and we used teamwork to lug it upstairs to my bedroom.

Let me just stress to you the importance they urged of leaving my door open. “We’re right next door to you two,” Dad had warned, wagging a finger. What, did they think I was that hormonally driven? I’d have rolled my eyes and said, “Whatever,” but my dad could be unpredictable since he was so quiet like me. It was intimidating sometimes.

At around eleven we went to bed. Well, Mom and Dad did, but…I was leaned over the foot of my bed with a pillow under my head, unable to sleep – partly because of a big-ass sugar rush I was on, and partly (probably mostly) because there was a real life girl in my room. Everything was so new.

“So how’s life?” Soria smiled, her hands casually behind her head.

“Good, good,” I whispered.

“Why are we whispering?” she mocked, her eyes darting around.

“’Cause my parents are right next to us.”

She laughed a little; I realized she wasn’t wearing glasses either. “You took a shower, right?”

I nodded.

“Good. I can’t stand sweaty people.”

I snorted into the pillow. “It’s not like we’re in the same bed or anything.”

She shrugged. “But it smells…”

“You wouldn’t have to sniff.”

“But it enters my nose…”

“That’s what she said,” I mumbled into the pillow, something I probably wouldn’t say if I weren’t so hyper.

Soria sat up and gently slapped my cheek. I grabbed her hand and guided it back at her. Struck by a wave of energy in my blood from all that chocolate, I let a certain question slip:

“Are you wearing a bra?”

Soria looked at me like I was an alien.

Man, I really wished I could take that back.

“Am I what now?” she inquired. “Did you just ask me if I was wearing a…a bra?”

My eyes shifted so that I was looking out the window.

“Are you wearing Aerosmith boxers?” she furrowed her brow.

“What? No!” I blushed, scrambling for something to cover my butt. When we were watching the movie, I was wearing pajama pants, but I always slept in just my boxers.

“Well, that’s funny, since I just saw a big A on your ass. Dude, you’ve got seven of their shirts and four of their posters.” Soria was giving me a, “Man, I’ve so got you beat” look. “Are you gay for Steve Tyler or something?”

“No!” I coughed.

Okay…about the Aerosmith shirts and posters, she was right. Sue me, alright? They’re my favorite band.

“At least I don’t have the hots for…for…that one dude from that one band!”

Fail. I know. If I had a dog for every guy from bands I’d never heard of she swooned over, I’d be running my own pound. But I didn’t remember any of their names, so yeah.

She laughed so hard she snorted, burying her head in the pillow and gasping for air.

And the last thing she said to me that night was, “At least I don’t have a man-crush.”