Punks Don't Wear Prada

"Ahhh-CHOO!" Jared sneezed suddenly without any time to cover his mouth. We were walking ovet to Emma's house.

I turned to him.

"Bless you."
He replied with another loud, body-wrenching sneeze.

"Wow, are you okay?" I looked at him, mildly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine- Achoo!- You don't happen to own any -ACHOO!-animals, do you?" His voice was muffled from his hands covering his mouth. He glanced up at me, and I noticed his eyes looked blood-shot.

"Actually, yes, I do," I started to feel worried.

He stopped walking.
"Please, please tell me you don't own a dog," He pinched his nose so as to prevent any more sneezing.

"Why, what's wrong with dogs?" I asked, stalling to admit about GeeGee. I had stopped too and he was looking at me, his eyes darting back and forth.

"I'm allergic!"

"You are?!"

" Do you have a dog or not?!"

"What if I said I did?"

"Then I need to go and get my asthma inhaler before I have an asthma attack!"

"Yes, Yes I have a dog." I looked away from him.

"Shit! We need to run!" He started to take off.

"Wait! If you run, wouldn't that increase your breathing rate?"

"Shit!" He repeated, "Yeah, you're right. It will."

"Let's just calmly walk over to Emma's house so you can get your inhaler," I proposed our original plan.

"I can't! My inhaler's at my dad's house."

"Well, where does your father live?" I glanced at him. Today was going to be even more eventful then I had hoped.

"Down town." He stopped and sat on the cement, crossing his legs.

"Wait, you stay here. I"m going to run and get my car!" I turned before he could protest.
I heard him sneeze again.
I increased my stride, silently thanking God for long legs.
My feet slapped the pavement, and I was reminded how much I enjoyed running.

Why did I stop?
So I would have time for cheerleading.

Two more blocks and I would be able to see my car.

Thank gosh I put the keys in my pocket before I left!

Three more houses.
It had only taken me five minutes to run here, when it took us together ten to walk where Jared now sat.

I jogged the last two houses and whipped my car door open.
I started the car and backed out of the driveway.

It took two minutes for me to speed over to Jared.

He was laying on the sidewalk with his head in his hoodie.
I heard him wheezing faintly.

I honked and he sat up feebily. He waved to me, and layed back down.

"Get up!" I cried, and gestured to the passenger's seat.

"I think I'll stay here, thanks!" He cried, happily.

"No, you're not going to stay there," I quickly hopped out of my car, not bothering with doors.

"Get up," I said firmly, standing with my legs on each side of his hips. I grasped his large hands and slowly he sat up. I stepped back a few inches and next he stood up, even slower.

"You're really nice," He smiled, and colapsed his head on my shoulder.
"Your hair also is nice." He declared, and grinned.

"Come on, get in the car," I catiously stepped forward -his backward. We moved like that through the grass and to my car.
"Do you want to lay down or sit up?" I asked him.

"I've never been in a convertable before!" He giggled, and then sneezed into my hair.

"Thanks." I decided for him to lay down.

I ran back to the sidwalk to get his hoodie before I got in the car myself.

"Where are we going?" He asked, resting on his elebows.

"To your dad's house. Do I go right or left?"

"Left," He said faintly. He started to wheeze again.
He directed me all the way to a run-down trailer. There was a trashcan right next to it, filled with old beer cans.

" This is your dad's house?" I asked, amazed.

"Yeah. I spend -Achoo!- The schoolweek here." He admitted.

"Do you want me to go in and get it for you?" I twisted back in my seat to face him.

"The door's locked."

"where's the key?"

"The door's locked." He repeated, deleriously.

"Yes, I heard you, -Where's the key?" I grew angry at his misunderstanding.

"The door's been locked since the parting."
He was growing stranger by the second.

"Stay here and don't move" I commanded before I hopped out of my car and ran to the door.
I twisted the knob left and right -it didn't budge.
I could hear Jared whimpering.

I glanced down at my feet to see if there was a 'welcome' mat.
There wasn't.

I ran behind the trailer, searching for a window. I found one facing the south and I peaked in.
The inside looked like a room -a boy's, to be exact.

I searched around for a large rock.
I picked it up, and stepped back before letting it launch.
The cheap glass shattered and I rolled a large log for a boost.
For once my cheerleading skills would come in handy.

I climbed into the room and rushed to a drawer.
My nose smelled dust and aged cheese.
No luck.
I ran to the bed and flipped over the blanket.
What was the matter with me? Who would put their medication in between their sheets?
That gave me an idea.
I scurried to the door and whipped it open. I searched for a bathroom.
I found it a few feet down the musty hallway. The carpet was gray and looked as if it hadn't been vacuumed for months.

My reflection in the mirror looked frantic -crazy.
I carefully opened it, exposing a large black bag labeled "Asthma Relief".
I myself let out my breath, realizing I had been holding it in.

I ran back to the room and fixed the green blanket before running out of the house.

"Jared!" He was laying down with his eyes closed.

"Wake up!" I cried, and slapped his face.
His eyes slowly fluttered open.
Tears began to pour out, he was repeating under his breath, "It's locked. I locked it. It's locked."

"It's okay, I found a way in. Look what I brought you!" I unzipped the bag and handed him a white tube.

"Shake it," he instructed.
I shook.

"Take off the lid."
I took off the lid.

"I'll hold my breath and you push down on the bottle."
He opened his mouth and sucked the air.
I set it in his mouth and his lips closed around it; I pushed down on the bottle and he nodded for me to take it out.
Sixty seconds went by before he said, "Again."
We repeated the steps once more before I heard him talking clearly again.

Then he closed his eyes and rested his head on my shoulder.

I'm not sure how much time passed, but I do know that I could feel cold wetness soaking into my shirt sleeve. I patted his back and he finally lifted his head.

"My father died." he said softly, without looking at me.

"My mother doesn't know."
My eyes widened.

"She hated him. Hated him with every ounce she had!" His face grew angry.

"Why did she hate him?" I asked quietly, staring at him with concern.

"She hated him." He repeated.
"She hated him... because we messed up her life." he sighed and turned to me.

"Did she hate you too?" I carefully asked, staring into his flashing eyes. They looked even more blue from his tears.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, looking at me as if I was stupid.

"I'm her angel," He explained.

"Metaphorically?"

"Yes."

"...How exactly did you -he- mess up her life?"

"She was everything he wasn't. She was beautiful, popular, funny, kind. She was going to go far in life. Her biggest dream was to be a fashion designer, and she almost made it, too.
"She decided to take a break, though, once she met my father. Two months later she became pregnat and another two months she was married.
"My father was very much like me: Quiet, odd, different. She always thought she knew everything about him, but there was one thing she didn't know. He was twelve thousand dollars in debt. Before he moved here, Danielle, he spent a drunken weekend at a friend's. They got caught for underage drinking, and went to jail. Somehow he managed to get out, promising he'd bring the bail money later. He never did. He fled from his home state -Texas- and moved here. You could say he caught my mother's attention right away as the strange, badboy new kid." Jared sighed before continuing,"They really loved eachother until two years later and spending every three weeks living from paycheck to paycheck. Dad began to spend a majority of the money on beer, and Mom decided to spend the rest on a divorce contract.
He cried when we left.
"Mom moved in with a friend -Emma's mother- who felt bad for us. If Mom hadn't married Dad, she quite possibly have been living next door as a rich, stay-at-home mom.
I hated it there. In the third grade I began to run to Dad's. The first time mom called the cops. The fifteenth mom sent me with a suitcase. They arranged that I'd stay with him during the week and I'd come during the weekends." Jared sighed again, and I wondered if I was the first one to hear this entire story.

"How did your father die?" I asked quietly. Jared leaned back into the seat and patted next to him. I layed down on his arm, cuddling my face to his chest.

"He died from a heart attack." Jared's chest began to move up and down, he was crying again.

"He was the best man I ever knew," He turned his face away from mine.

We spent the rest of the morning laying there, just talking about life.