"Well," Luke's voice started tentatively from the other end of the line, "that escalated quickly."
I sighed. "Tell me about it."
"I still can't get over the fact that you took my car and left me stranded in Oakland Mall with Scarlett on her period," Raymond's voice grumbled into our three-way. "Do you even realize how terrifying-"
"I'm actually more surprised that he didn't manage to get into a car accident," Luke told him, cutting him off. "We all know how mediocre Derek's driving ability is."
"You and me both," I replied, falling backwards onto my squishy bed. My head hit my fluffy pillow, my eyes scanning the pale ceiling, now covered in nightly shadows, while I added thoughtfully, "Although I did almost run over a lady that looked a lot like Senora Gessen wearing a huge, flowery hat. It's a good thing your windows are tinted, Raymond."
"Oh yeah, good thing," he said sarcastically. "Yeah, I specially tinted those windows just in case my friend decided to steal my car and use it to run away from cops with his date because he was stupid enough to eat a freaking Skittle without paying for it."
"See, Luke," I said cheerfully, "he knows me."
Suddenly a growl emanated from the phone, reminding me of a hungry lion. "How many red lights did you pass? And how fast were you going? Were the cops chasing you?" Raymond demanded.
"Uhhhhh," I dragged out, casting my mind back to those fifteen minutes of terror on the road. It was surprisingly hard to remember, even though it had only happened a few hours ago. I suppose that's what happens when you're too busy driving for your life. "Well, I'm pretty sure I had my foot pressed on the gas pedal the entire way, and perhaps maybe I might have passed a couple of red lights-but see, that was because the cops were chasing us! They were on motorcycles, too. And you know how fast motorcycles can go."
"I don't actually," Raymond said flatly.
"I do," Luke chirped. "Up to two-hundred miles per hour. Perhaps even more, depending on the brand."
There was a beat of silence where I could practically see Raymond closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Thanks, Luke," he said, his voice teetering between explosive anger and weary exasperation. "Where would I be without that encyclopedia brain of yours? God only knows."
"Your sarcasm is one of the qualities I admire most about you, my friend," Luke answered. "Mainly because it is quite amusing."
"This is not a joke!" Raymond suddenly roared. "Those cops could have taken a picture of my car-they could show up at my doorstep at any moment! Or they could use my license plate number to send me a huge ticket! What are we going to do about this, Derek?"
"Well," I said into the succeeding silence, clearing my throat. "I mean, I haven't gone to the bathroom yet, but when I do, I'll take a peek into the toilet and see if I find any red skittle in there so that I could return it back to the store. You never know."
Luke cackled wildly. I grinned at myself.
"Hilarious," Raymond said, although it didn't sound like he found my joke to be very funny. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
"So I've been told," I remarked.
"What I want to know is," Luke began, his tone hinting at a subtle subject change, "what did Gwen think of all of this?"
The grin on my face dropped like it was hot. "Well..." I began in a murmur. "Let's just say that by the time we lost the cops and I parked in front of her house, she didn't speak, didn't even move a muscle-it was as if she were frozen. Her face looked as if she had just seen a ghost, and her hands were gripping the edges of her seat so tightly I could see the white in her knuckles. Oh, and she was breathing like a caveman and her right eye was twitching."
Both boys on the phone sucked in a sharp breath through their teeth. "Ouch."
"I know. And then she just gave me a look that made her look both really angry and really constipated at the same time. After that she opened the car door and slammed it shut before running up her driveway and into her house."
"She didn't say anything to you? Not even a word?"
"Nope. And we were having such a great time, too. Everything was going perfect." I sighed heavily. "I guess it wouldn't have been a date with me with I didn't find a way to screw it out somehow, huh?"
"Yep," Luke murmured.
"True that," Raymon agreed.
I frowned. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the support."
"Meow."
"Really, guys?" I scoffed incredulously, sitting up from my bed. "I'm having a romantic crisis and the only word of consolation you have to offer is, meow?" Then, realizing who I was actually talking to, I froze. If anyone was going to joke around at a time like this, it would be me, not them. "Wait. Who said that?"
"Beats me."
"I dunno."
"Meow."
A pause. "Derek, is that you?" Raymond accused warily.
I shook my head although he couldn't see it. "No. It's clearly not a person; people don't meow, I think. But cats do, don't they?"
"Luke, do you own a cat?"
"I'm allergic to cat's genius," he said. "Remember?"
"Well," Raymond replied, "my cat isn't smart enough to pick up one of the house phones and meow-"
"Meowwww."
Raymond's comment suddenly struck me with an explanation. "Wait a minute," I began, narrowing my eyes, "I know what's going on here."
"Luke, Raymond and Derek like to gossip like little girls on late-night telephone three-ways!"
In that moment Luke cried, "Isabel!" at the same time that I yelled "Mel!" into the phone. It was hard to tell who it was that was actually taking a jab at our manliness, seeing as that the perpetrator had purposefully disguised their voice, raising it several octaves higher so that it sounded like a chipmunk.
A giggle. Then, "It's Mel."
"I knew it," I groaned. "Mel, get off the phone."
"Nah. I've been listening in since this convo started," she explained. "I like hearing gossip, especially when it has to do with relationships that my brother can't score."
"We are not gossiping," Raymond said defensively.
"And we certainly are not little girls," Luke added. "I've got the manly parts to prove it."
"Ewww," Mel gagged. "Go back to talking about Gwen, please."
"How about we go back to talking about nothing," I suggested sourly. "I'm pretty much done with this conversation. Right guys?"
"Yep."
"Sure."
"You know, if you want girl advice from an actual girl, my bedroom door is always open," Mel told me. "Just sayin'."
"That's what I have Annemarie for."
"And that's exactly why you're in the position you are in now," she replied. "Well, other than the fact that you're socially challenged and make horrible decisions under pressure; not to mention that your face-"
"That's it. Goodnight!" I cried into the phone. Then I yanked it from my ear and punched the end button with a mighty huff.
I was not about to start taking relationship advice from an annoying fifteen year old girl who named her male Chihuahua "Tinkerbell" and whose favorite boy band was "Big Time Rush".
***
"Well," Bobby began, cocking his head to the side so that the Sun struck the bald spots in his thining hair at a different angle, "dat escalated quickly."
"That's exactly what Luke said," I sighed as I attempted to pick at the wedgie forming on the inside of my chicken suit. I found the spot, but the stupid suit made it impossible for me to reach it.
"Who is this Luke boy?"
"A friend."
"Da one with da skinny limbs who needs to get some meat on them bones?" he inquired.
"No," I replied. "That would be Raymond."
"Ah."
"This whole climbing banana trees business is a lot harder than you made it seem, Bobby," I accused warily. "I can't do anything with Gwen without screwing something up."
"The first romance is never easy," he replied, scratching his cheek with a finger. "But I believe in you, my friend. You can do it."
Bobby's words of encouragement didn't really help shake me from my dampened mood. Gwen and Annemarie hadn't shown up to lunch today at school, and she didn't even spare me a glance in Biology. I knew I had to apologize, but at this time I was so afraid of embarrassing myself that I didn't even think I could do such a simple thing as that without messing it up.
So now here I was, trying to make up for the hours I had missed yesterday due to my date from hell. I was standing at my usual post on the sidewalk outside Greasy Joe's, holding up a promotional sign. I got the usual looks from passing cars and walking individuals-although whether they were staring at me oddly because of my suit or because of the hobo standing next to me, I wasn't sure. There was only one thing I was certain about: having Bobby here couldn't possibly be good for business.
The sound of approaching footsteps brought my attention to my left, where two individuals were casually making their approach. I had forgotten to put my contacts on that particular day, but from what I could tell they were definitely girls, with the hair and voices and boobs to prove it.
It was only as they neared Bobby and me that I muttered, "Speak of the Devil. Oh, wait-that sounds mean, doesn't it? Never mind, I take that back."
"What is this Devil you speak of, boy?" Bobby inquired, his eyes following the line of my gaze to the two girls. I then caught the sight of a smaller figure moving rapidly ahead of them, about the size of a-a dog.
She was walking her dog. Looks like that Devil line was appropriate for this context, after all.
"It's Gwen," I whispered nervously to him while I wiped at the sweat on my face and tried to somehow make myself look attractive in this one-piece suit the shape of a fried chicken. Let's just say that the odds of that happening weren't really in my favor. "And Annemarie."
"Well then, I should prolly go-"
"No!" I hissed below Annemarie's echoing giggle. "You should let me hide behind you."
"Wha-" Bobby began incredulously just as I scurried around him and clung to his back, ducking my head so that the meaty top of my chicken suit was concealed behind his shoulders. It was a good thing Bobby was super tall, albeit skinny.
"Act. Natural," I muttered in his ear, catching the stench of rotten egg clinging to his clothes and wafting off his sooty skin.
"I got that covered, boy," he assured. "We people of the streets like to stand around and talk to ourselves all da time."
Just then the girls approached, now close enough for me to hear what they were talking about.
"... glad that you don't have boobs the size of mine," Annemarie was telling Gwen. "Trust me, for all the complaining you do about being flat, you're lucky. These babies make my back hurt."
"Couldn't that be a medical condition?" Gwen questioned, clearly astonished. They had stopped right in front of Bobby, who was standing as still as a statue opposite them on the sidewalk. Peaches-Gwen's evil female Yorkshire Terrier-was peeing on a lamppost while they spoke. I prayed for the stupid dog to pee faster so that they could leave.
"Heck yeah!" Annemarie cried. "And colleges love people who have faced hardships like that. It's a disability."
"Did you really put that on your college application?" Gwen laughed. They couldn't see it because they were too engrossed in their booby conversation, but Peaches had sniffed her way over to Bobby's attractive stench, and I closed my eyes in fear. If that dog saw me, all would be over. My cover would be blown.
"Of course-!"
And then it happened. Peaches the Big Mouth caught one whiff of my shoe and began barking wildly, as if I had attacked her or something.
Gwen and Annemarie immediately ceased their conversation and snapped their eyes in Bobby's general direction. Meanwhile Peaches continued to bark this annoying, high-pitched bark that made my ears bleed.
"Your dog must be ordering me to take a shower," Bobby joked in an attempt to cover up my presence and direct attention towards him. But it was no use. The girl's confused eyes did not leave the area beyond Bobby's shoulder, where I was attempting to make myself disappear.
"Um, Gwen!" Annemarie cried. "Control your dog."
"The only person that Peaches acts this way around is..." Gwen began as my heart clenched and my stomach roiled and my toes cramped. She cautiously went behind Bobby and came face to with the chicken that was me. "Derek," she said, her voice a mix of surprise, wariness, and anger.
Her pretty blue eyes, however, were guarded. "Hi," I said nervously, speaking over that incessant barking at my foot.
"Derek? Annemarie gasped as she came up to stand beside an open-mouthed, wide-eyed Gwen. She scanned her chestnut eyes up and down my form. "What the hell are you wearing?"
"Hey, guys," I said half-heartedly, trying to ignore the weight of Gwen's heavy gaze. I weakly lifted up the arrow-shaped sign I was holding, bending my stiff elbows to bring it up to my chest. "Would either of you be interested in a Double Cheeseburger Deluxe? If you buy one, you get a free soda..."
Annemarie glanced at the lower half of my body. "Is that a bone between your-"
"Yes."
"...And is that a hobo-?"
"Mhmm."
"You work here?" Gwen asked incredulously, apparently overcoming her dazed episode. "Since when?"
The subject of my employment hadn't really sprung up at any time in the past, mainly because I always made attempts at steering away from it due to Gwen's vegetarianism. Raymond and I didn't think it would sit well with her, and this was before I discovered that I liked her.
Now I was completely exposed, my body dressed in a freaking chicken suit that was still giving me a major wedgie.
"Since, um-since two minutes ago," I explained, raising my voice to speak above Peaches' continuous barking. "Yep." I nodded to myself. "I've just landed my first job, guys! Aren't you proud of me?"
"Derek, you know how I feel about fast food chain restaurants. I'm a vegetarian," Gwen said warily. "Don't ask me to answer that question."
I winced. Annemarie, apparently noting the emotional crisis looming over us, spoke up quickly. "Gwen, we should probably get going. Peaches doesn't seem to be too happy."
"I wonder why," Gwen muttered as she tugged on the leash. Peaches growled at me.
"I'm sorry," I managed to choke out, forcing myself to meet Gwen's alluring eyes again. Without contacts it was hard to see much of the details that gave them their beauty, but I could still picture the freckles scattered across her cheeks and the dark specs peppering the glassy surfaces of her irises, as if I had every physical feature branded onto what was usually my very poor memory.
"For?" Gwen pushed, lifting a brow.
I sighed. "For forcing you into Raymond's car and driving around like a maniac while the cops chased us."
"You could have gotten us hurt, you know," she answered. "Or arrested. Or killed. What were you thinking?"
"Well," I muttered, my mouth suddenly dry. "I was thinking that I was having a perfect date with a girl I really liked and I'd be damned if I let it get ruined by a bunch of psycho police officers on scooters," I admitted. Then I ducked my head, fully expressing my shame. "But I realize now that all I did was make it worse."
"Damn straight," Annemarie said fiercely, nodding her head. I gave her a look that read whose side are you on?
But then I noticed the smile creeping up the edges of Gwen's lips.
"Well, it wasn't a smart move, I'll give you that," she said. "But I was also having a great time. Up until... you know."
I returned her smile with my own hesitant twitch of the lips. It really is amazing how girls get over things so quickly if you just man up and apologize.
Suddenly, Bobby sneezed a phlegmy, ridiculously loud hyena-like sneeze that made all of us-even Peaches- jump in our spots. As a result of her surprise, Gwen's grip on the dog leash loosened, and it slipped through her grasp as the Terrier made a run for it-straight towards me.
Ah shit, I thought as Peaches moved in lighting speed, her fast little paws carrying her over to where I was standing in a blur of brown and black. All I could do was turn around and run, but I didn't get very far. The furry pooch jumped after me, lunging up into the air and latching onto the cloth of my chicken suit, the force pushing me down onto the ground.
It was the one time I was actually grateful for the stupid one-piece. The round meaty part of the suit broke my fall, saving me from bearing the brunt of the impact and protecting me from potential scrapes, bruises-not to mention a completely mashed up face.
"Get off me you evil witch!" I squeaked at Peaches, who was scratching at the top of the chicken suit, apparently trying to reach my face. I squirmed and was just about to roll over so that I could crush the little critter before Gwen snatched Peaches from my back.
I blew out a relieved breath and sat up, glancing skywards towards Gwen and Annemarie who were looming above me, their shadowed forms blocking the sunset. They silently exchanged heavy looks of humor, as if communicating some secret message with each other-and Peaches glared at me with big, round black eyes that made me feel as if she were tearing me apart in that tiny little brain of hers.
I didn't understand how something so cute could be so evil. I hadn't even done anything to her for God's sake.
But Peaches always seemed to harbor this inexplicable grudge against me, from the moment I met her. And, as Gwen had mentioned early, it was only against me. I sighed inwardly. Peaches was probably trying to warn Gwen away from an idiot like me; I didn't blame her for trying to be a faithful protector, defending her owner against any bad influence that attempted to come her way.
"Alright, we have to get going," Gwen told me. Then she lifted her dog up from beneath its armpits and rubbed her nose against its own, as if it were some baby. Peaches' tail wagged. I was suddenly really jealous. "Don't we, Peaches? Yes we do!" she cooed in a gooey voice.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Gwen was pretty tough when it came to dealing with people, but the moment you placed an animal in front of her she became freaking Jane Goodal.
"Oh, and just because I like you again does not mean that I approve of this slaughterhouse you're running here," Gwen added as she tucked Peaches beneath her arm.
I feigned a gasp from where my butt was planted on the hot sidewalk. "You stopped liking me?! That's just low, Gwen Saunders. How did you even manage to get yourself to stop?"
Her grin widened at my lightheartedness. "I think I just lied to myself and pretended that you weren't worth it." My heart skipped a beat at that, but before I could respond, Gwen quickly added, "Now let's go, Annemarie. It was your idea to take the long route for your 'power walk' so now we have a long way to go before we reach our neighborhood."
Oh, yeah-another fun fact: Gwen and Annemarie lived in the same neighborhood. And so did Scarlett.
"Okay, okay," she chanted as Gwen bent down and placed Peaches on the floor, being sure to maintain a firm grip on the leash in the process. Peaches and I were locked in a fierce battle of gazes since we were both on ground level; I stuck my tongue out at her. In response she snapped at me and I almost fell backwards in fear.
Gwen laughed. "See you tomorrow, dork," she said playfully.
Annemarie remained at my side while Gwen walked away, taking her evil pooch with her. I tore my eyes away from Gwen just in time to catch her sticking a pen into her purse.
"What are you still doing he-"
"Let me help you up," she abruptly said, reaching a hand out to me. Confused, I took it and managed to maintain my footing after struggling against the bulkiness of my meat suit. Then she skipped over to Gwen, her short, wavy locks of green rippling behind her in the wind.
"By the way," Gwen added over her shoulder, and because of the distance I couldn't tell if that was a smile I saw on her face or not. "That chicken suit makes you look like a lump of dog poo on a stick. Oh, and nice underwear. Didn't know you were a Captain America fan."
I looked down at my costume and grimaced while the two girls giggled to themselves. That dog poo comparison was pretty much what that mean fat kid told me a while back. I guess he was right.
Then I froze. Wait-had Gwen just complimented me on my choice of underwear? How had she even-?
But before I could complete the thought, the sight of something white lying flattened on the palm of my hand caught my attention. It was a folded corner-piece of lined paper with a rip along one of its edges. While the two girls and the Devil in disguise made their departure, I unfolded it, Bobby now returning to my side so that he could see it too, bringing with him the pungent smells of the city.
It was written in purple, with Annemarie's big, bubbly handwriting:
Gwen's taking Peaches to the dog park after school tomorrow so you should take your dog Cinderella (I think that's her name??) there, too. Then it could be like you two "coincidentally" ran into each other! How cool would that be?! I know, I know-I'm a matchmaking genius. Good luck, 'dork.'
Then, written more sloppily at the bottom:
P.S. The butt part of your chicken suit is ripped. Gwen used to think your ass was nonexistent. Guess that changed her mind...
And it ended with a winky face.