Passed Out on Your Lawn

“Dakota!” my mother hollered my name from the foot of the stairs, “Dakota come down; Max is here.” She continued.
I sighed loudly and blew out the candles illuminating my bedroom, shut off the soft music I had playing and entered the tiny corridor.

“Coming, Mom,” I said loud enough for her to hear.
Tonight was not one I was looking forward to.

A month or so ago my step-dad died in some fork lift incident at his work. He and my mom had only been together a year but as you can imagine she didn’t take it too well. When it happened all the neighbours were being supportive and shit especially the lady a couple houses down called Sandra. To cut a long story short they’d become best friends, both being single mothers of a similar age. So tonight they were going out on a date-that-wasn’t-a-date-because-they’re-not-dating thing. See my mom didn’t want me in the house alone at night but I was too old for a baby sitter [ch'yeah at fifteen] and Sandra had the same idea so lucky me got to spend the evening with her son. I knew nothing about him and wasn’t interested either. Not many things interested me.

“Dakota, honey, movies are by the TV, sodas in the fridge and important numbers are by the phone. Call if you need me,” my mom bombarded me with information when I reached the base of the staircase.

“Ok, ok,” I backed my face away as if a flurry of dust gusted my way.

“Now come through,” Mom led me into the living room where Sandra and who I’m guessing was her kid were stood. “This is Max and you know Sandra. Now you kids behave. Max, make yourself comfortable,” she smiled excitedly.

“Felicity, calm down,” Sandra chuckled, “they’ll be fine now lets go.”

“Ok, yes of course. Remember to call if you need anything,” my mother reminded while being dragged through the front door and out into the early night.

Once the door closed I turned my attention to Max whom was perched on the edge of an armchair giving ‘nervous’ a whole new meaning. He had short darkish hair but a cute face and was about my age.

“So...Max…how’s it goin’?” I began to fill the dead silence.

“Uh fine…Dakota, right?” he glanced at me quickly then stared at the floor.

“Right,” I nodded,” so what do you wanna do? Watch any of these?” I pawed through the video cases that had been left out for us; none of them really taking my interest.

“Sure, whatever,” he agreed.

“I’m getting a drink. You want one?” I turned to the kitchen.

“No thanks,” he muttered.

“This is gonna be awesome,” I grunted sarcastically to myself while pouring a glass of coke.
When I returned he was still looking uncomfortable so I thought to hell and grabbed a movie, which hadn’t been left out.

“Wanna watch this?” I stuck The Evil Dead under Max’s nose and saw his eyes light up.

“Yeah.”

“So you do smile,” I smirked.

“I…I’m not the most social person on the planet,” he said quietly.

“Me neither,” I shrugged in response and put the tape in the player, dropping myself onto the couch. “Better view of the screen from here,” I advised.
The sofa was fairly big, I wasn’t trying to cuddle up or anything.

By the end of the movie we were laughing and having considerably more fun. Especially after replaying the tree rape part over a few times cause damn that may have been traumatising at the time of release but it was too funny now.

“Oh my god, how could it be? My girlfriend was just raped by a tree! And now the evil’s coming after me, the Book of The Dead put a curse on me!” I sang the words to Chop Off My Hand as it was indeed written bout the film.

“That’s pretty cool,” Max grinned at me.

“Yeahhh,” I sniggered. “What'cha wanna do now? Our moms won’t be back for another hour or so.”

“What else is there to do?” he looked at me with a lot less shyness than originally.

“I’ve got a couple video games in my room or could listen to music. What music do you like?”

“Uh I dunno, like Slayer and Iron Maiden and stuff like that,” Max was instantly back to that frozen look.

“Cool, cool. Come on then,” I jumped up and took the stairs two at a time, a little excited to show off my crypt of a bedroom. I stood with an arm outstretched at the doorway to welcome him in. I’d never had anyone in that appreciated my décor so I hoped he did.

Max slowly stepped inside, taking it all in. band posters and magazine pages covered the walls completely, candles sat on the windowsill and atop the shelf over my bed, and a growing pile of CDs proudly sat on my dresser.

“Your mom lets you have all this stuff?” he asked, evidently in minor awe.

“Well yeah. Why, doesn’t yours?” I scowled.
“Fuck no. My room is so boring, all I’ve got is a few CDs I’m supposed to count myself lucky for and one band shirt that my mom doesn’t know about,” he explained sadly.

“Dude, that totally sucks. Maybe my mom could talk her round,” I suggested.

“I dunno. Maybe. Shit you have this?” Max pulled out one of my favourite records from the pile.

“Play it if you want,” I smiled and sat on my bed.
In all honesty I hadn’t had a friend who appreciated any of this stuff I adored so much so this was a new thing for me. the friends I had were only my friends cause we knew each other from elementary school not because we shared any common interests. I was the only one that got into ‘alternative’ things and until now I’d been on my own in that.

The first song started up and Max sat beside me looking through the CD booklet.

“I’d say you could borrow it but that could be trouble,” I sighed and bit my lip, “you can come by and listen to this if you like though. Like…whenever,” I informed him, stiffening up slightly at how pathetic that sounded.

“Really?” he looked up at me with a sliver of a smile.

“Yeah sure," I nodded.

“Thanks,” Max’s smile grew.
That smile seemed to light up his cute little face in such an adorable way, in a weird way.
“I’ve got friends like are into like metal but not really this part of it. You’re like the coolest girl I know,” he said in such a sincere fashion.

“I bet I’m the only girl you know,” I smirked.

Max snorted at my comment, “Maybe. But you’re the only one I’ve ever even known of to own this and like them,” he gestured towards a poster on my wall.

“Maybe we can be friends,” I meant it sincerely but scoffed at my own lameness.

“That’d be cool,” he nodded his head and seemed too genuine for my usual reality.