Renny Boy

Mid-December saw Soria’s 13th birthday. December 14th. It was probably the only time of year we actually got to wear jackets; any other season was way too freakin’ hot. I counted my blessings and wished Soria a happy birthday – she needed it, after breaking the crap out of her wrist a few months back when we were playing Frisbee. But when I asked her what she wanted as a gift, she said, “Nothing.”

I’m dead serious.

She didn’t want a thing.

Well, one thing she wanted was a bouncehouse. That’s it. All she wanted was a giant, inflatable, bouncehouse.

That’s what her dad told Luke, Brendan, and me at least. We didn’t believe her when she said she didn’t want anything, so we resorted to calling her hard-ass navy dad to confirm.

We were puzzled, to say the least, but thankful she didn’t ask for a pony. That would’ve gotten complicated.

But anyway, she told us to be at her house the day of her birthday – the last Friday afternoon before we’d be released from school for Christmas break. Not that I had my hopes to the ground, but when I rode over to Soria’s house, I wasn’t planning on doing much of anything.

I was wrong.

In her front yard stood a huge rainbow mass of air-filled rubber canvas, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the houses in her neighborhood. Her house stood out enough already, a bright sickly yellow. But that moonwalk broke the mold, man.

I was the first to get there, only riding my bike a pretty short distance; she lived in the neighborhood right next to mine. I got there and looked in the bouncehouse, but nobody was in it.

So I knocked on her front door.

In ten seconds her dad answered, a 6-foot-tall giant looming over me. His stern face softened once he was it was me, the awkward aura prior to Soria landing in the hospital dissolved. “Hey Ren,” he greeted, smiling.

“Hey Mr. Atkinson,” I waved back, still kind of shy around him.

“Soria’s in her -”

“’Scuse me!”

From behind him, Soria popped out, half his size, squirming out under his arm to break free. Once she was out, she beamed at me, only wearing a hoodie, jeans, and socks.

“What’s up, Hawker?” she smiled. “Ya like the bouncehouse?”

“Sh’yeah,” I laughed, “What, d’you buy it?”

Her dad shook his head. “I rented it for the day. She’s been waiting all day for you to come over so she can use it,” he added, mussing her hair.

Soria grabbed me by the arm and tugged me along out to the yard. “C’mon!”

Her dad called out to us, “Careful!”

Oh, yeah. She still had the cast on her wrist, limiting her movements and getting in the way of quite a lot.

We got to the open-flap entrance and she told me to take my shoes off. Then she clambered up the three-foot-high entrance, slipping twice with a few choice words. Once she was in, though, she turned around and helped me in.

Immediately when I stood up, I fell over because she was already bouncing around so much that it shook the entire house. She was just laughing it up, smiling, so happy that it almost killed me to tell her to stop.

“Why should I stop?” she giggled, migrating over to me.

“’Cause,” I grumbled, on my hands and knees. “I can’t even stand up.”

“Aw.” She stopped, reaching down, pulling me up by the hand. “I didn’t think you’d lose balance that quick.”

“It’s just these freakin’ bouncehouses. I always hated goin’ to birthday parties as a kid ‘cause I’d always end up flat on my butt,” I said, finding a steady spot.

“That’s ‘cause you should’a said, ‘Hey! Stop pushin’ me around!’” Soria smiled.

I shrugged. She was right.

“You know what I just realized?” she added.

“What?” I said, curious.

“You’re skinny as hell,” she laughed.

I blushed, looking at my bony arms hidden by the Aerosmith hoodie I wore. She had a point. Even if I wanted to, I probably couldn’t win a fight against a fifth grader.

“You’re skinny too,” I replied. “Well….”

She cocked her brow. “Well what? Were you gonna say something? Hm?”

“You’re…you’re…developed.”

Silence.

“I’m what now?” she said, squinting at me.

I gulped. “Developed…you know…uh…”

A foreign voice came out of nowhere and scared the living crap out of both of us. “He’s sayin’ ya got boobs!”

Oh God. I really owed Brendan for getting me out of that one.

We both turned around to the sound of his cracking voice. Halfway in, he was squirming through the moonwalk entrance, his face totally red. “Now help me out here!”

Soria and I dropped what we were doing and bounced over to him, pulling him up by the arms. He fidgeted in, a lot denser than he looked. Once he was in, though, the first thing he said to us was, “What were you guys talking about?”

Soria and I shared a look of confusion.

Me being the quiet one, she took over. “Uh…nothing.”

“Riiiight,” Brendan snorted, holding his arms open. “C’mon. I need a hug from the birthday girl.”

Soria flinched but didn’t push him away. I felt a little left out for a second, but shook it off.

“And besides, I hardly even have boobs,” she pointed out, making the situation even more awkward than it had to be by pointing at her chest. I really tried not to look. “Puberty hasn’t been kind to me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that!” I defended. “I’ve always been under the impression that it’s rude to stare at a girl’s boobs.”

I couldn’t tell if Brendan was just playing devil’s advocate when he said, “You don’t have to stare, you just gotta look. A little glance.”

Soria crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, let’s change the subject now.”

“Alright, fine by me. I can’t believe you actually got a friggin’ moonwalk,” he snickered. “Is this all you got?”

Soria nodded happily. “Yup!”

Her dad came out of the house and tapped on the rubbery material of the bouncehouse. Giving a stern look to Brendan, he commanded, “No roughhousing. You hear me?”

“Yes sir,” he saluted, kicking his shoes out the entrance.

Soria waited until her dad was out of earshot to say what was on her mind. “I think my dad hates you.”

Brendan cocked his eyebrow. “P’shaw. Everybody loves me.”

“Even Satan?” I asked.

“Hell yeah,” he boasted, grinning a little.

As my eyes naturally flickered around the scene to detect anything that could catch my eye, I spotted the edge of her driveway and saw a familiar face. It was Luke, of course, wearing a hoodie and jeans and his footwear consisted of…socks and sandals. Hm.

“Hey, there’s Luke,” I said, pointing.

He took off running once he saw us noticing – the best one could in socks and flip-flops – and did a dive through the opening to the bouncehouse, kicking off his footwear in the process.

Brendan tried pushing him out playfully, saying, “Aw, you just ruined the party!” But Luke held fast, countering him by lifting him up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Soria and I stopped bouncing. This kid was actually strong enough to be able to lift our dead-weight drummer.

“Happy birthday, Soria,” Luke greeted, still holding Brendan like nothing happened.

“Let me go!” he growled, kicking and screaming, doing all he could to loosen his best friend’s grip on him.

Luke let go.

No, wait…he didn’t just let go.

He threw Brendan up by the legs, flipping him backward so he landed flat on his back. At least, that’s probably what he hoped would happen.

Brendan landed like a bad frontflip; his head was the first thing to hit the moonwalk. Then the rest of his kind-of-chunky-but-dense body followed, unrolling like a coil. The first thing he did was curl up into a fetal position, cradling his head, mumbling incoherent curses to Luke.

Luke looked like he pissed his pants. I don’t think he intended for him to actually get hurt.

We all went totally quiet.

…How does somebody even get hurt in a bouncehouse?

“B-Brendan? You okay man?” Luke whimpered, tentatively shuffling over to his buddy’s body. He bent over, placed a hand on his shoulder out of comfort, asking again if he was okay. “I’m sorry, dude, I didn’t think you’d land like that, man…can you hear me?”

“You motherfu -”

And that was all Brendan said before he grabbed Luke’s ankle, yanking sharply to pull all his balance out from under him. In a rush, Brendan was back on his feet, a big grin on his face in victory, while Luke lay on the floor of the moonwalk, plainly, with an expression that said, “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

Instinctively, Soria and I looked at each other like we didn’t know what we just saw.

Brendan was living it up, jumping over and around Luke, rubbing it in, applauding himself for doing such a great acting job.

“So…you’re not hurt?” Soria asked expectantly.

“Nah,” he grinned, “just a little pissed off.”

“Anger management, man,” Luke suggested, sitting up. “You need’a stop getting so mad.”

Brendan helped him up, but then shoved him again. “You wanna go?”

“No, I don’t wanna go! I just got here!” Luke said, furrowing his brow like he genuinely meant what he said.

“I think this guy wants to go. What d’you guys think?” Brendan heckled, throwing a glance back to us.

“I don’t wanna add anything and get involved,” Soria said flatly.

Completely ignoring us, he bounced in a circle around Luke, chanting, “Let’s go! C’mon, Ragan! You wanna go?!”

And Luke just stood back, keeping his cool, and said, “Dude, I just got here. I’m not leaving.”

The remaining three of us looked at each other for a second.

“He means ‘fight.’ Not go, as in literally leave,” Soria explained.

Luke blushed. “Oh. Uh…I didn’t know that.”

“You been livin’ under a rock then,” Brendan snorted. “People say it all the time.”

He shrugged. “Well, I haven’t heard it.”

Brendan hopped around, setting an example; Soria and I went “what the heck” and followed. Pretty soon we were having the times of our lives, rocking the house, bouncing high as we could, yelling, shouting, crashing into each other…when I wasn’t bumped by Brendan, it was alright, anyway. He just went out of his way to push into us whenever he could.

After about 20 minutes, the energy died down and the moonwalk got quiet. We had bounced to a standstill and once the birthday girl sat down on the rubber shelter, the rest of us copied her.

“What, are you bored now?” Brendan asked.

Soria shrugged. “Eh.”

“That’s so stupid!” he smiled. “You get a giant moonwalk for a day and you get tired of it in less than an hour?”

She punched his shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I didn’t even hit you that hard!”

In turn, he grabbed her around the neck and ruffled her hair. She struggled to get him off, but he kept on doing it. After a few minutes, though, like our energy, he stopped, and there was a lull in the action.

“So this is it?” Luke asked. “No piñatas, no cupcakes, no pony rides?”

“Yep. I only asked for a bouncehouse, and I got it,” Soria grinned.

“You’re kidding. You didn’t want anything else?” I said, my eyebrow raised.

“It’s halfway to Christmas. All she’s gotta do is wait a couple weeks and then comes the loot,” Brendan added.

Soria rested her head on her hand. “I don’t even want anything for Christmas.”

Silence.

“Why not?” Luke said.

“Back in summer, I wanted a SkyPod, a Game Station 2, and a new amp,” she added, pausing, staring into space. “…Crap. I’m tearing up.”

We three boys smiled at one another.

“Don’t cry, Soria,” Luke teased.

She shoved his shoulder. “Shut up!” Then she took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. “I didn’t ask for nothing else…’cause I’ve got all I need right here.”

“Oh God, you’re a cheeseball,” Brendan laughed.

Soria sniffed a few times then regained her senses. I smiled a little and hugged her around the shoulder.

“I just…I don’t need anything else,” she whispered, wiping her eye.

“Cheeseball,” Brendan mocked.

Luke scooted over, arms open, engulfing her in a big hug. She flinched, her face red from the stinging winter air. I got a chill up my spine and decided to do the same, pulling her into my embrace as well. As if she couldn’t be overwhelmed enough, Brendan overpowered us all and pulled us all into his arms.

“Super gay happy hug time!” he had joked.

“How is it gay if we’re all hugging a girl?” Luke asked.

Brendan didn’t have time to answer.

“Get the hell off my daughter.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought Soria’s dad was holding a shotgun.

We all leaped back simultaneously, scared as hamsters.

“We didn’t do anything!” Brendan denied, hands in the air.

Ignoring him, Mr. Atkinson ushered for us to get out. “You guys want cake or what?”

“Food! Yesss,” Luke cheered, leading us out of the bouncehouse.

Soria smiled at me as she went out before me, no sign of tears on her face now.

And when I left the moonwalk, her dad looked at me, smirked, and shook his head like we were old buddies.

“Bunch’a crazy ass teenagers…”

- - -

After cake, there really wasn’t much left to do. It was after seven, so Luke and Brendan’s curfews were approaching. Since Luke had to go grocery shopping in the morning and Brendan lived in a different neighborhood, they left before me. I had a bike, a cell phone, and a Mom who’d be halfway across the world in ten seconds, so I stayed longer.

“Let’s go back in the moonwalk,” Soria had told me.

By then, night had fallen, a starry sky above her house. It was crystal clear, not a cloud in sight; if I wanted to, I could have counted every star.

Soria bounced around for a few seconds, but my stomach just wasn’t in it. She noticed, too.

“What’s up with you?”

I held my side. “I don’t wanna jump around on a full stomach.”

She shrugged, striding over to me. In one great movement, she had her arms around my waist and her head in my chest.

“Why the hug?” I asked, returning the favor anyway.

“Just ‘cause,” she said back, her words muffled.

After about 30 seconds she let go, a big grin on her face. Then she punched my shoulder.

“I’m glad you grew a pair and talked to me the first day of school,” she smiled. “We wouldn’t be in a big festering rubber shit hole right now if you didn’t.”

“Was that sarcasm?” I questioned.

“Of course not. This thing smells great!”

I smirked a little. “Yeah. You’ve been hanging around me way too often.”

She flopped down to the floor of the bouncehouse, sighing contently. “C’mon. Sit with me, kid.”

I followed orders and took a seat on the bump right next to her. She sighed again and tilted her head.

“You sad?” I said.

She shook her head. “Nah,” she added, “but I feel a corny ‘90s sitcom moment coming on.”

“Oh God,” I smiled. “Just don’t cry.”

“Shut up!”

“Why does that make you cry anyway?”

She shrugged, staring into space. “Jeez, I don’t know. Reverse psychology. When I hear, ‘don’t cry,’ I think of something to cry about.”

“I guess I understand,” I smirked, telling a white lie.

“Why do I not believe you?” she laughed a little.

“’Cause I don’t think like a girl.”

She ran a hand through my hair as if to tell me it completely went over my head. “Yeah, that’d explain it.”

“Don’t cry,” I smirked.

She punched my arm. Hard.

“Jesus! What was that for?!”

“Don’t tell me not to cry, boy.”

I gave her a stern, “What’re you thinking,” look, but she only beamed at me. Then she started laughing, then I started laughing, and then it all blurred from there.

She hugged me again. “No, but seriously, I am glad you talked to me.”

“God, Brendan was right. You are a cheeseball,” I laughed, mussing her hair. She slapped my hand away.

“Seriously! I didn’t know anybody and you kind of made it all better,” she smiled.

“Kind of? I only played a part?”

“Well, my dad dumped that chick he was dating a few months ago. That made me happier,” she beamed.

“Then you’re just mean,” I poked her side.

“Then you just don’t know what it was like.”

“You almost cried to me about her,” I added, “I think I got a pretty good idea what it was like.”

“Oh God. Don’t remind me,” she shuddered. “That was so freakin’ embarrassing.”

“How? All you did was get something off your mind.”

“I clammed up and whined about it. That’s pretty bad.” She laughed airily, then turned away. “The whole thing was weird.”

“So? I didn’t care.”

“Yeah, but it sucked! All that day, I was like, ‘Oh my God, Ren thinks I’m an idiot now,’” she laughed, whispering like it was all a big secret.

“No, it was smart.”

“…What?” she said.

“If you didn’t do it sooner or later, you’d probably, like, explode. Spontaneous combustion,” I told her.

She smiled at me. “Oh. Thanks, then.”

“You’re welcome,” I laughed quietly.

Soria went quiet and sighed, resting her head on my shoulder for a second. Then she sat up and stared at me.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No,” she replied. “You know what? You’re lucky.”

“How?”

“You’re lucky ‘cause my dad likes you. He hates Luke and Brendan.”

Instinctively, I cocked my brow. “What?”

Soria chuckled. “He doesn’t want me going over to Brendan’s house when just he and his brothers are there. He’ll only let me go if you’re going too, or his parents are there.”

“It’s not like he’d murder you,” I added, “…I think. But why would he hate Luke? The kid’s a freakin’ saint.”

She rolled her head. “Well, I don’t think he trusts him.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Soria laughed to herself. “One day back in…crap, what was it? October? I don’t know. Well anyway, he came over to my house ‘cause he called me and asked if I wanted to go on a walk with him.” She paused and hid her head in her hands. “He didn’t say or do anything that would piss off my dad. He was just wearing a tanktop. You know what I’m talkin’ about, right?”

I nodded. “He had no pants on?” I smirked.

“Yeah, he had pants on. But it was like he was in his underwear. My dad kept giving him funny looks and he was all, ‘Be back by six’ all serious. And when I got back, he was like, ‘So where’d you two go?’ like he was suspicious,” she chuckled.

“…So what happened?”

“Nothing happened! We just walked around the neighborhood! We didn’t do anything!”

Her face was totally red.

“I think you were thinkin’ stuff,” I teased.

“What?! No!” she denied, shoving me.

“Bull crap! You’re probably thinkin’ about him naked right now!”

She went quiet, smiling like she was flustered. “Okay, you try being a 12-year-old girl standing next to a bassist in his undershirt and not thinking like that!”

“What does being a bassist have to do with anything?!” I said, cracking up at her outburst.

“You know how fast some of them guys move their fingers when they’re playing?” she added, her voice getting so high it cracked.

I smiled at her. We were quiet.

“Do you like him?” I whispered.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, turning away. I still saw that blush on her face.

I shook her shoulder. “Do you?”

“Shut up!”

“Oh my God, Soria,” I smiled. I said that because I didn’t know what else to say.

She shot a look over at me for a second, and then brushed the hair back out of her eyes. Then she smiled, the redness in her face crystal clear.

I repeated, “Oh my God, Soria.”

“You need’a keep your mouth shut, got it?” she threatened, jabbing a finger into my face. “Yeah, I got a little crush on him.”

I laughed and shoved her finger out of my bubble. Dunno why but I felt like I forced that laugh a little bit. “Wow. Wow. Wowww.”

She smacked my arm. “If you tell anyone, I will…I will kill you, and I will…and I will…burn you, and I will…piss on your ashes.”

Soria stared me square in the eye. I could have laughed and written it off as a joke, but I didn’t want to face that whole murder possibility.

But…holy crap…holy crap. I just couldn’t believe all that!

“I think you just got turned on talking about your ‘walk’ with him,” I smirked.

Her mouth turned into an O and her eyes got as wide as plates. “Oh my God! – okay, first of all, that ain’t true! And second…Christ, you kiss your mother with that mouth?!”

I snorted a chuckle. “Only when I go to bed.”

She smiled. “Man, I learn something new about you every day. You’re so damn quiet I never expect anything.”

I shrugged. A lot of people would tell me that if I actually spoke up.

Soria stood up and grabbed my hand, struggling to lug me up. “C’mon. I blew a couple bucks on new strings the other day.”

Oh the way out of the bouncehouse as I tied my shoes, I asked her, “D’you think your dad would let me sleep over?”

She smirked. “Not if we’re in the same room.”