You Know I Make You Wanna Scream

“Look out, world below!” Christopher shouted as he threw some bedding and pillows off the beds and out the window above the garage.

Randi pretended to duck and cover from the pillow “bombs” while I caught them in my arms and immediately threw them in the back of our pick-up truck. We stared up anxiously at the window, waiting for the sound effect. Chris paused for dramatic purposes before making a loud explosion noise indicating that they were in fact explosive. And of course we all inhaled deeply and laughed so hard that we couldn't breathe again – as we always did.

This was just another random funny moment in the life of the three amigos - Randi, Chris, and me. A slight glint of sorrow dawned upon me as I shut the hatch door. We were almost done packing up Chris’ house, which was our last stop before we leave for California. Randi and Chris were anxious to see Hollywood first hand, but it wasn’t anything new to me. California was my home state before my family moved to Utah. A part of me felt uneasy about returning so suddenly, but somehow I convinced myself it would be for the best. I need to make my future, instead of my past, my one and only priority.

“Hey, how much more crap do you have in your room, dude?” Randi yelled from underneath Christopher's window.

He held his hand up telling her to hold on while he scanned his room. All that was left in there was some dressers, a bare desk, and an empty closet. “All done, I’ll be right down!” he slammed the window shut and locked it.

Randi, Chris, and I have been very close for the past two and a half years now. I can honestly credit them with the title of saviors, because without them I’d be miserable…after all that happened in California and having to move away…it’s just too much to handle on one’s own. Many people wonder how we get along so well, and I’d have to contribute that success to our distinct personalities.

Randi Allis was that girl who would never back down from a challenge, never turn away from a fight, and never feel fear. She had a fit shape due to her love for mountain climbing and hiking. She was a real trooper. Impatiently, she sighed loudly and went over to her mother who was holding back massive sobs. Randi’s father had died a few years ago, and Randi was all Mrs. Allis had left. Randi pulled her thick, black hair back into a ponytail as she gave her mom a long, needed hug.

Christopher Parolee was a completely different story. He was skinny and tall, secretly enjoyed cooking, and was an expert Dungeons and Dragons player. He also loved comic books and had quite an impressive collection for someone his age. Of course his dad refused to let Chris bring the comics with him, hoarding the glory of the collectibles to himself in the family’s basement. Chris came sprinting down the stairs with a backpack slung lazily over his shoulders as he took in deep breaths.

“Finished,” he grinned.

“Thank God, bout damn time!” Randi laughed as she walked over to the driver’s seat of the truck.

I approached my mom and dad, each with different expressions on their faces. My mother’s lower lip was quivering as she tried to smile through the tears. My father, on the other hand, stood strong with a broad, proud smile. “I know you’re going to do just fine in college, sweetie. If only Joey were here to see this. He…he’d be so proud of you, Myra,” she said solemnly.

My dad wrapped an arm securely around her in a comforting fashion. “All of us are very proud of you, Myra. You’ve managed to stay strong through all that’s happened and we can never tell you enough how much we love you. Just remember, if you ever need anything, you can always call us. Oh, and try to stay away from the alcohol,” he winked.

I smiled in response and promised I’d do well in school and stay away from trouble. I may have appeared happy and understanding, but that was far from the truth. My parents think that I’ve managed to withstand my brother’s death…but truth be told it tears me apart every day the damned memory replays in my mind.

The guilt I feel haunts me constantly, and I fear that I’ll never be able to face the truth of what happened that night. It’s all my fault that he left the house…and now he never got a chance to return. I bit down hard on my lower lip, refusing to start crying in front of everyone. College is about moving forward, and that’s exactly what I planned to do.

Randi tapped her fingers against the leather steering wheel as she stared vacantly out the windshield, waiting for the rest of the passengers to arrive. I slid into the booth like seat and sat in the middle. “Myra, I have to ask…are you sure you’re going to be okay with returning to California?” she asked in a suddenly unexpected serious tone.

I stared down at the littered floor of her truck, unsure of how to answer. “Honestly…I’m a little scared. But at the same time, I can’t keep worrying about this. He probably doesn’t even remember me anyway,” I sighed.

“Yeah,” she laughed, “and he’s probably scored himself a pretty nice spot in the county prison.” I shared her laughter, only dreaming that that was the case. Something told me I wouldn’t be so fortunate.

We watched as Chris said goodbye to his parents…and as he had to run back upstairs to change into one of his dad’s shirts after his baby sister Natalie threw up a little on his previous shirt. “You’re sure getting your exercise in today,” Randi laughed as she backed the truck out of the driveway.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I haven’t ran this much since…never,” Chris mumbled.

The three of us forced our way out the sunroof and waved to our parents who were slowly growing smaller and smaller as the truck rolled forward heading for the highway. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening…college was finally here, and with my two best friends, I refused to settle for anything less than an epic time.

"Now, it's time to begin playing the almighty Road-trip Soundtrack!" Chris exclaimed as he dug around in the side door shelf until he found the desired disk. He popped the CD into the CD player with excitement. We spent the entire summer gathering songs into a playlist of our favorite songs to sing along to.

The first song that played was "What’s My Age Again?" by Blink 182, and that was one of our all-time favorites. I grinned evilly as I reached forward and cranked the volume knob violently to the right at maximum level. Randi rolled all the windows down and cheered as she pressed down harder on the gas.

A feeling of burning happiness crawled up from my stomach and into my chest. A genuine smile crept across my face as the wind whipped my long brown hair in every direction imaginable. We belted the lyrics to the song as the vacant, grassy scenery blurred around us. Everything felt perfect in that solitary moment as the open road laid ahead of us, begging for Randi to further exceed the speed limit.

The road trip finally ended around 1 AM. Randi pulled the truck over on the side of the dusty road and we stepped outside to stretch and taste the fresh air. Due to lack of sleep and general excitement, we were completely exhausted and dangerously hyper, which didn’t mix so well.

We were only 25 miles away from our final destination, but it was too late to check in with residential life, so we decided to camp out here. “Isn’t this going to be fucking sweet? Sleeping out under the stars in the middle of the road,” Randi said excitedly, digging into her backpack to find her blanket and pillow.

“Yeah, yeah it’s all fun and games until a coyote comes out from behind a cactus and eats you!” Chris exclaimed, clinging tightly to his pillow.

“You’ll be fine,” I laughed, rolling my eyes as I unrolled my blanket and stared up at the brightly lit sky. Ever since I was a little kid, starlight always seemed to comfort me for some reason…I’m not sure why, that’s just how it’s always been.

Beep, beep-beep, beep-beep-beep! Each of our distinct alarms went off at 7 AM. We decided it would be best to have multiple alarms, just in case one of them decided to malfunction. You never know when an alarm clock will turn its back on you, especially when you need it the most.

Deserts soon transformed into concrete streets and palm trees. Even two hours later, at 9 AM, the streets of Hollywood were packed bumper to bumper with cars all containing anxious, annoyed drivers. The sun glistened across the flat glass surfaces of skyscrapers and elite buildings. It was all just as I remembered it.

Chris and I exchanged excited looks as Randi drove past the cement sign, welcoming its visitors to the campus. Several tall dorms lined the streets, and we passed up each and every one of them.

Let me take this time to explain exactly where we live. The college, experiencing growing sizes of incoming freshman classes, recently began offering the opportunity to stay in a small community of condominiums lined along the outskirts of the campus. Sure, they were a hell of a walk from most classes, but it could quite possibly be worth it.

Two condos were attached, each able to house two people, who had to be of the same sex. Randi and I are roommates, living across the street from Chris and his future roommate. The condos are complete with a living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, basement, and kitchen. Living in the lap of luxury would be well worth a little extra walking, wouldn’t you say?

Randi parked the truck in the visitors’ parking lot near the community’s front entrance. A small tan building with reddened shingles and vibrant green plants stood just beyond the gate. We walked inside and received our house keys, schedules, school IDs, and addresses.

Since school didn't start until September, there wasn’t much of a need to get our supplies for classes just yet, so our business was quickly terminated in the welcome center. Randi and I walked to our condo, while Chris sadly crossed the street and entered his alone.

I wasn’t sure what he was so sad about…it’s not like he was only right across the street, or anything.

"I'll open the windows and vacuum the carpet if you go pick out some decor to give this place some life?" Randi suggested, as she gave herself a personal tour of the condo and chucked a massive set of keys at my head.

I held my hand up to catch the keys and waved before heading back to the parking lot. Initially, I was surprised that Randi volunteered to do all the dirty work and let me have all the fun. Then, I remembered that I did come here intending to major in interior design so I guess it kind of makes sense for things to be done that way.

Of course, I couldn’t complain. With an unlimited amount of cash and an endless imagination, I was sure that I was going to have way too much fun with this.

Unlike most people that may have just moved here with the same agenda as myself, I didn’t need a GPS to find the local Home Depot and Expo stores. Driving along these streets was just common knowledge stored in the back of my mind from before. It was almost like I was functioning under autopilot.

I pulled the truck into the parking lot and raced into the store. The list of supplies I would be needing was fairly long, so I decided not to hesitate any longer.

The funny thing about being familiar with a certain city is that you have this urge to drive around and revisit some other places you once knew – say, my old house for example. I spent almost sixteen years living in that house, and as you can imagine, it was very challenging to just pack up my life thus far and start over, in a new state of all places!

Sighing to myself, I decided to make a slight detour onto Oak Manor Lane. The sun was near setting now, and most of the kids had gone inside, leaving just the drunken or barbecuing folks left outside. I got a few waves and smiles from those who were outside and remembered me.

But I didn’t stop the truck until I was in front of my old place. The new owners painted the shudders an unwelcoming blood red color, as opposed to the neutral, yet conventional charcoal black we had began with.

All of the lights were off, so I couldn’t peak inside. I knew I had to drive forward, especially since I was getting a lot of flipped middle fingers as cars drove around me. I stole one last glance before moving forward, hardly looking at his house as I turned left onto the main street. He didn’t deserve to be remembered in my mind, especially at this time.

I sped down the boardwalk, tuning out everyone’s happy laughter and chatter with the healing sounds of “Artist in The Ambulance,” by Thrice.

It was already 8:30, and Randi and myself had a trunk full of home improvement ahead of us, which could easily lead to an all-nighter. I hope Chris isn’t busy tonight because we’re definitely going to need his help with this one.

"Randi, I'm home!" I shouted as I struggled with an armload of decorating supplies in the doorway.

She came walking into the foyer at a casual pace until she saw that I needed help. She ran out to the driveway and grabbed as much as she could and carried it back into the house.

“Where’s a man when you need one?” she muttered, carefully placing things down on the carpet. She grinned mischievously as she headed for the door. “CHRISTOPHER ALLAN PAROLEE GET YOUR SKINNY ASS OVER HERE!” she shouted outside.

A light flickered on across the street as Chris looked out the window with an embarrassed look on his face. Randi and I fell into fits of laughter as he ran across the street, almost forgetting to shut the door behind him. “What’s wrong?” he asked concerned.

Randi started cracking up as she walked back inside. "Now that the entire gang is back together, I think we’re gonna have to pull an all-nighter tonight,” she cheered.

I laughed and said, "Wow, I thought that exact same thing on the way home…I think we spend too much time together."

A couple of hours, bags of M&M’s, and mixed CDs later, the condo was all vacuumed and cleaned, ready for decoration. I breathed out heavily as I rested on the carpeted floor and stared out the large windowpanes in the living room.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to see but blackened trees and a starless sky. “Are you down and out already, Myra?” Randi asked as she threw her cleaning gloves into the nearby trashcan.

I scoffed as I stood up quickly and turned away from the dismally dark scenery. "Of course not! I was just pondering what should we do first."

Randi and Chris glanced down at all the paint, wallpaper, curtains, blinds, bedding, and began wondering the same thing.

"Hmm," Randi said as she rested her hand under her chin philosophically, "How about we do...the paint?"

"I’m down with that,” Chris said as he began laying some tarp over the floor.

I pulled out some white overalls and black bandanas, distributing them to the group. “Damn, do we look sexy,” Randi laughed looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“That’s all that matters,” Chris nodded, picking up a paintbrush and adding the first stroke of a dark crimson color to the living room walls. It’s a miracle our neighbors haven’t moved in yet, otherwise they just might complain about all the loud noise.

Randi and I exchanged shifty eyes as we crept into my new bedroom, wet brushes in hand. Chris thought he was alone and began dancing to the techno music that began blasting through the house.

On the count of three we ran up behind him and covered the back of his white t-shirt in dark violet paint. He screamed out loudly as the brush clattered onto the ground. “What the hell, guys? You could’ve been serial killers!” he cried, sighing heavily to compose himself.

After he was calmed, he quickly sought his vengeance by painting rather stylish polka dots on part of Randi’s black and white striped walls. She of course swore to get her revenge, despite having agreed to a truce.

The only rooms we left white-colored after all the shenanigans were the kitchen and bathroom because the inspiration was just not there at the time.

By 4 AM our new college condo was completely remodeled, furnished, and poster-covered. As you can imagine, we were completely exhausted and covered in paint. Randi’s iPod finally arrived at the very last of a thousand songs.

I couldn’t hold back a smile as I laid down on the carpeted floor, my two best friends beside me, as the Red Hot Chili Peppers song, “Californiacation,” began playing quietly out of the speakers. The appropriateness of the song itself was almost eerie…it perfectly represented the journey that Randi, Chris, and myself had ahead of us.

And I was going to make the effort to enjoy every second of it – no more worries.