Chapter Four: He Has a Name?
“This is not going to work,” Kurt complained as he duct-taped another pillow onto my backside.
“What other choice do we have Kurt? I can’t exactly go to school looking like me me without it being suspicious.” Thanks to Cashier Guy I had lost my only fat suit and I had to order another one, which was coming in three to five business days. So, my only option was to go to school with pillows taped to my body.
“You look way too,” he trailed off to find a decent word, “lumpy.”
“It’ll be fine.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure him or me.
Kurt still looked unconvinced, but he let the subject go. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
The car ride consisted of me fixing my assortment of pillows and Kurt giving me a look of disbelief about every ten seconds.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kurt asked me again as we walked into the school. Well, he walked while I shuffled awkwardly next to him.
“Yes, I’m very sure. I just have to worry about is falling asleep.”
“What? Why?” Kurt asked me, confused.
“. . . Because I have so many pillows on it feels like I’m on a bed and people tend to feely sleepy on beds,” I explained.
“That wasn’t funny,” Kurt told me bluntly.
“Well, no one asked for your opinion,” I mumbled in embarrassment and walked away from him, slightly stomping along the way.
I stopped at my locker and fumingly pounded on it when it didn’t open. As my locker opened, I could feel something drop from my side.
“Crap,” I said to myself as I picked up the small pillow that I had taped to my side, but as I bent over the tennis balls I had taped to my other side fell and scattered all over the hall.
I stared after them with wide eyes, hoping no one had notice or will notice.
As I picked up the last tennis ball, I looked up to find my locker neighbor staring at me, mouth agape with her chewed up gum showing.
“What?” I asked harshly. “I stuff my bra. You think beauties like these come naturally?” I gestured to my chest, which tennis balls were indeed strapped to.
She still stood there with her mouth hanging open as I rushed to the nearest bathroom.
I was in the middle of taking off my oversized sweatshirt when I heard the door open and a very male voice call out, “Serena?”
Thinking it was Kurt coming to my aid, I came out of the stall and nearly flinched a yard backwards when I realized it was Asshole peeking his head into the women’s bathroom.
“What do you want, Asshole?” I asked, suddenly feeling the need to cover up even though I was wearing a tank top and shorts covered by miscellaneous objects.
“I see your putting that name to use,” he commented as he came completely into the bathroom. “I saw your trail of tennis balls and thought you could use this,” he explained as he held up a very welcome and familiar object.
“My fat suit!” I exclaimed happily and snatched my fat suit out of his hands. “Did anyone see you holding this?”
“No, the halls were empty.”
“Good. Now get out.”
“Yeah, I know. By the way, I like that picture of you in the corner. It depicts you well,” he stated while exiting the bathroom.
I hurriedly put on my fat suit, discarded the pillows and tennis balls in the corner, and headed towards the door, but back peddled to get a look at what the discussion of me has headed to.
She’s a lesbian. She totally put the moves on me today.
OMG! Rlly? i new it was her who was outside my house at 1 am ystrdy. Total creep.
She lesbo? Maybe that’s why she keeps harassing that one guy- to keep other people from knowing.
Oh, the joys of reading other people’s false assumptions. My eyes wandered to the corner and I saw perhaps one of the most hilarious pictures that I’ve ever seen. It was a picture of Jabba the Hut, but with my face inside of his. I could tell it was hand drawn because it was done in pink sharpie. Next to it someone had written “What Serena produces when she poops”.
I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling as I entered the halls.
Well, at least I had talented haters.
:::x:::O:::x:::
When I tried to drop off Cashier Guy’s homework today at lunch, I realized that he was sitting next to a girl. I think she was captain of the math squad or something.
Asshole saw me coming and frantically shook his head and discreetly gestured to the girl next to him, mouthing the word ‘girlfriend’. Well, either that or he was trying to say ‘Earl’s dead’, which was technically true considering the show, “My Name is Earl”, was cancelled, much to my dismay.
My attempt at an escape failed.
“Hey, Serena!” she called me called me over.
“What?” I snapped as I walked over to their table. I notice Cashier Guy grimacing as I came over.
She frowned at my rude response. “Ms. Houston told me that I should ask you to join Arithmates. She told me you had even higher marks than me.”
I detected flicker of sadness in her eyes as she said the last part. “Well, duh, of course my marks are higher. I spend my entire day practicing calculus. What else would I do all day?”
“Oh, well, would you join?” I could see she was more relaxed now.
“Sure,” I answered slowly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Asshole looking confused. “You dropped your homework, Asshole,” I said casually as I set down the papers in front of him.
Great, so now I’m in Arithmates. I really hope this doesn’t get in the way of my T.V. time.
:::x:::O:::x:::
“Last Friday night, we were streaking through the park, skinny dipping in the dark.”
I grimaced as I slipped a twenty into Hera’s guitar case.
Hera was a middle-aged lady who liked to play her guitar in my neighborhood park for money every Tuesday, which was kind of stupid since no one was here on Tuesday. I’m pretty sure she was homeless too because she always smelled like rotten eggs and dog poop. I guess her name was kind of a weird coincidence considering she was named after the queen of gods.
“Good performance, bad song,” I murmured to her. She gave me a nod and a smile as she continued to sing that God awful song.
Hera liked to torture me with her choice in music. She knew I hated anything that wasn’t classical, but she also knew that I would give her a twenty anyways. So, she continuously pisses me off.
“I’m seriously not coming back next time,” I threatened her, but she kept singing Katy Perry knowing I always made empty threats.
I smiled at her a bit before going to sit at a picnic table and starting on my homework.
About half an hour later, laughter and the sound of a dog leash jingling could be heard from around the corner. I sighed and got up. This meant I had to leave.
“Santa Clown!” I looked up and saw Sam jogging with Buzz’s leash in his hand.
“Hey, Sammy!” I greeted him and waved as he made his way to me, Cashier Guy not too far behind him.
“I missed you,” Sam murmured as he gave me a hug. What’s with him and hugs?
“I missed you too.”
Sam pulled away from me and looked up at me with curious eyes. “Santa Clown, is your name really Santa Clown?”
“No, Sam,” I laughing at his childlike ignorance. “My name is Serena. You could call me Rena if you like.”
“I like Santa Clown better,” he said as he took a seat next to me at the table.
“Then you can call me Santa Clown.”
“Santa Clown, can I ask you a question?”
“You just did,” I pointed out to him.
“Wait! No! Can I ask another one?” he pleaded frantically.
“You just did,” I pointed out to him again.
“No, Santa Clown! I want to ask another one,” he said firmly, finally getting the gist of things. I nodded for him to go on. “Why don’t you like my hugs?”
“I guess I’m not really used to them,” I admitted truthfully. “Why do you like them so much?” I asked before he could question me further.
“My parents used to give them to us all the time before they went to the moon.”
“The moon?” I asked quietly.
Sam just nodded and looked at the sky in amazement. I looked over at Cashier Guy to see that was looking at the sky too, but in sadness.
“I know that they’re coming back one day for me. This is the day they left for the moon.”
“Sam, why don’t you go play catch with Buzz?” I suggested, wanting to talk to Asshole alone for a moment.
“Okay, come on Buzz!” Sam led Buzz into the field.
“Here,” I said softly as I handed Cashier Guy his physics homework.
“Thanks,” he muttered, still looking at the sky.
“You have to tell him.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” I questioned, getting frustrated.
“I just can’t.”
“He still thinks that they’re coming back! Do you know how upset he’ll be once he realizes that they’re not?”
“Exactly, he’ll come to realize it on his own,” Cashier Guy argued back, getting frazzled as well.
“So you’re going to let him live in denial until then? Wondering when they’ll come back? Why they don’t love him enough to come back sooner? Or maybe even why you’re not as enthusiastic as he is about your parents’ return?”
“Ignorance is bliss,” he said with a tone of knowing. “The world is full of sins, hurt, and just bad people, Serena. Anyone‘s life could be turned upside down in just a snap of the fingers. I don’t want Sam to be introduced to that life yet. The longer he stays ignorant, the longer he’ll stay happy.” He paused for a minute before he added, “And sometimes I envy him because of that.”
I was taken aback for a moment, startled that anyone like him could muster a statement like that. I slightly wondered if he had gotten that from Frederick Douglas, but I waved it off.
“My parents died in a plane crash three years ago. They were going to Texas and the plane crashed. So now me and Sam live with our aunt, which is cool, but it’s not the same,” he told me with a distant look in his eye.
Why was he telling me this? I’ve known him for about five days. Did he want pity? Did he want me to comfort him?
After about three minutes off me not saying anything and us awkwardly standing next to each other, not daring to even look at one other, I said the most random thing in my head, “So, your girlfriend is pretty good looking for captain of Arithmates.”
Cashier Guy gave me ‘are you serious?’ look, but I saw his lips go up, even if it was just half a centimeter. “So that wall was right?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Asshole, and I’m totally using you to pretend I’m straight,” I said, oozing with sarcasm, as I motioned him to come closer to me with my finger like one of those Victoria’s Secret commercial.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Cashier Guy asked me, his face scrunching up in distaste.
“This is my seductive face,” I stated, matter-of-factly.
“It looks a donkey just kicked you in the nose.”
I rolled my eyes as I stopped my ‘flirty face’. “You know what? Your face looks like a donkey just kicked you in your nose.”
“Gosh, Davidson, I wonder how you think of these smart ass comebacks,” he said with no emotion, emphasizing his use of sarcasm.
“They just come to me naturally.” I shrugged, playing along.
Cashier Guy was about to say something, but he was interrupted by Sam’s shrill voice.
“URANUS! SANTA CLOWN! COME PLAY WITH ME!” Sam exclaimed from the field while trying to race Buzz.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I had forgotten that Cashier Guy, or Uranus, actually had a name. “Your,” I was interrupted by my own laughter. “Your name is,” I was interrupted once again by my uncontrollable laughter. “Uranus?” I finished weakly, leaning on the picnic table for support. This much laughter was not good for one person.
“Sam! My name is not Uranus!” Uranus shouted back angrily to his brother, but his glare remain fixed on me as my laughter turned silent, as it always does when I’m laughing too hard, which always made me look like I was choking on something.
“It’s your middle name! It counts!” Sam shouted, in the distance and through my tear-filled eyes I could see he stuck his tongue out.
“My name is Trent!” he defended himself. “Trent,” he said slower, directing this at me. “T-R-E-N-T,” he continued. “Not Uranus,” he said his middle name in disgust.
“Sure, Uranus.” My laughter started up again.
“I think I prefer Asshole,” he muttered. “Or even Cashier Guy.”
“Whatever, Uranus.”
:::x:::O:::x:::
Author's Note:
This chapter was not meant to offend people with the name Uranus. Haha, but we finally learned his name! Yay!