Perfect perfect perfect. Life was so perfect. Sweet as a can of Coke or a giant glazed doughnut. Never mind the calories or the high fructose corn syrup; just bite into that Twinkie and taste that fluffy stuff inside. Sugar is the best. That's what I felt like as I bounded up the carpeted staircase like Bugs Bunny; like I was seriously sugar high, my head all floaty and my limbs all free and fidgety, like I wanted to go somewhere. Like Colombia maybe; Buenos dias, humanos. Viva es un buen pastel. I like that; "Life is a good cake" Maybe that should be my new motto. Life is a good cake. Life is a great big taco. Life is a tremendous vat of Coke. Yum.
I sauntered across the bedroom and leaned out the windowsill of the middle window, gazing lazily at the sun glazed suburban street outside, the golden light of the afternoon slanting through the glass, filling the bedroom with a soft, almost sweet glow. Like honey. And boy, was today ever the perfect day for it to look like that. The perfect day. It was the day of Pokey Oaks Middle School's spring dance! God, I'd been dreaming of this day forever! Who cares that I couldn't dance any better than a rock!! I had the whole night planned out in my head…I'd had it planned months in advance. *sigh* I just couldn't wait. It was like being Prince Charming in a stupid fairy tale, except with some pizzazz! And a kick-butt girl.
My smile widened and my eyes gazed dreamily through the glass as I leaned heavily against the windowsill. And that's when I noticed my reflection and my face fell instantly; my hair didn't actually look like that, did it?!! Hell's bells. I turned and ran for bedroom door, heading for the bathroom in the hall and my beloved bottle of hair gel. Just as my hand grasped the knob of the bedroom door, somebody opened it from outside and I tumbled head over heels onto the carpet with an agonizing thud. I looked up in panic; please, God, let it not be Buttercup. And it wasn't; it was Boomer, looking down at me, confused.
"What are you doing?!" he exclaimed as I swiftly stood up and dusted off my clothes.
"I'm going to the bathroom." I pointed to my hair. "Hair gel."
"Oh…" said Boomer as I darted around him and down the hall, bursting open the bathroom door and flinging open the cabinet, rummaging around for my hair gel. I seized the bottle and squirted a green blob into my hand, and I was smoothing it into my hair when Boomer poked his blonde head through the doorway.
"Why the rush?"
I finished fixing my hair and turned to Boomer, irritated, my arms crossed and the bottle of hair gel grasped in one hand.
"Duh…" I said, shaking the bottle in his face. "The dance…remember?"
Boomer glared at me and crossed his arms tightly. I bustled back over to the cabinet and put the gel away, slamming the doors shut and taking one last look at myself in the mirror before darting out of the bathroom. Boomer sullenly followed me as I ran back to the bedroom and flung open the closet, looking for my suit.
"Where is it…Where is it…Where is the crap…"
Boomer stalked over to the closet, stony faced, and pointed. And there was my suit. I snatched its hanger, ignoring Boomer, and pulled it off of the rack, holding it up to the light to inspect it.
"Shoot."
My hand had found a tear in the dress shirt, and the elastic in the dress pants was all stretched out and loose. I pulled the pants off of the hanger and slid them on over my normal pants, and they sagged dangerously because of the worn elastic, but they didn't fall down. That would have to do. As I slipped out of the dress pants, I hung them back on the hanger and turned, so I was facing Boomer, who was still staring sullenly at me with his arms crossed. I rolled my eyes and walked past him, hooking the hanger with my suit on the backboard of the bed.
"If you're gonna stand there you might as well help me." I said to Boomer, walking toward him. "Get me a pansy from the front yard, will ya?"
"Did you even ask her yet?" Boomer replied, still sourly. I froze like a naked mole rat in the Yukon.
"HELL'S BELLS!" I screeched, slapping my forehead in exasperation. Today's prize for the world's biggest idiot goes to…ME. "I need to ask her!! Oh shoot…"
I took off and ran towards the bedroom door when Boomer caught my arm.
"She's not here, bro. She's off practicing soccer at the park. I think."
"AUGH; why didn't you tell me!?" I squeaked.
"I just did."
"I meant earlier." I growled. He shrugged. I pulled my arm out of his grip.
"Thanks a lot." I spat sarcastically. Boomer suddenly looked hurt.
"No! No! I'll help you!" he cried, his brow creased. "Here…"
He ran and grabbed my suit off of the bed and shoved the hanger in my astonished hands. I swear that his mood swings were almost as weird as Bubbles'. "Put that on and I'll go get you a pansy."
He disappeared through the window, and I quickly stripped my clothes off, slipping on my suit, growling as I fumbled to fasten all the stupid little buttons on the dress shirt. I was pulling on my socks when Boomer zipped back into the window, holding a purple pansy in his hands. He seized my shoulder, pulled me to my feet and pinned the pansy to the front of my suit jacket. I growled at him as he stood back to appraise me.
"You need a tie." He said.
"What if I don't want a tie?"
But by the time I'd finished the sentence, Boomer had ran to the closet and returned like a golden retriever, holding a tie in his hand. I growled again.
"Shut up; I'm trying to help." Boomer said moodily as he wound the tie around my throat and pulled it tight with a yank. It was like a boa constrictor wrapping around my neck, and I could almost feel my windpipe snap in two. Have mercy. Blaugh…Stars started to blink before my eyes and I felt my knees hit the floor.
"Holy…."
And suddenly the pressure was gone. Choking, wheezing, and gasping, I massaged my neck, stiffly sitting upright. Boomer was kneeling in front of me, his face chalk white and petrified, the tie clutched in his hand.
"Omigosh…omigosh….Are you ok?!" Boomer spluttered, jumpy and frantic. I opened my mouth to shoot him a sarcastic comment when he seized my shoulders and rattled me back and forth. "Are you ok?! Are you ok?! Oh, if I hurt you…."
"Then I'd laugh." A new voice said.
What the heck?
Boomer and I froze and turned towards the voice, and there was Brick, floating in front of the window, a snooty smile on his face and his arms crossed.
"Did he really choke you with that tie?" Brick asked me skeptically, chuckling as he did. Smart aleck. I glared at him.
"No. It was a mad chimp with Bubbles' jump rope. Don't be stupid." I sarcastically shot back. Brick laughed and smoothly floated over, grabbing my arm and pulling me upright. He coolly took the tie from Boomer's astonished hands and carefully wound it around my neck, still snickering.
"Let me give you a tip for next time." Brick said as he knotted the tie into place. "Never let Boomer tie your tie."
"Hey!" Boomer caught the insult. Brick laughed and playfully punched Boomer's shoulder.
"Just kiddin', little bro."
He shot me a meaningful look and sauntered out of the room, still smiling, leaving me irritated and Boomer flustered, holding his shoulder. Boomer shot a sour look towards the door.
"I'm gonna go get a pansy."
He zipped out of the window and landed on the front lawn in a sapphire flash. And then something hit me. Not literally of course.
"Boomer!!" I yelled, running over to the window. "You already got me a pansy!"
Boomer froze, his hand outstretched and clutching the pansy plant. Realization washed over him and his hand dropped; he smoothed his hair to continue the movement, his face burning. I heard Brick laughing from downstairs as Boomer floated back in through the window, face stony, his eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into tight fists held stiffly by his sides, and his cheeks still flushed. Brick may be the leader and all, but he can sure as heck drive a guy nuts.
"Don't listen to him." I hissed, gesturing towards the door. "You know he likes to mess with ya. He hasn't stopped doing that since we were born."
"I know."
We were silent for a second and then I jabbed Boomer's shoulder. He turned towards me, confused.
"The dance, remember?"
"Oh yeah!" Boomer's eyes sparkled and his gloom instantly slid away. Yeah, he's my best bro, but I can't deny that there's something wrong with him. I guess that's no surprise, considering that our most recent dad is a demented, gender confused lobster. "Yeah, the dance. Ok; now you gotta take these and when she gets here…" Boomer took my prearranged bouquet of dove white, dew sprinkled roses out of their vase on the bedside table and shoved them into my hands. And suddenly we were interrupted by somebody knock-knock-knocking on the door. Knock knock knock. Could it be…?? My heart sprang into ultra hyper mode, and I could feel it thumping my whole body around. Bump ba bump ba bump ba bump. Except deafening and not orderly. Bump bump ba bump ba BA bump bump bump BUMP ba BA!!! Yeah, that's it.
Anyway, Boomer rammed me in the back with his arms and yelled:
"Go! It's Buttercup! Go! Go! Just go and ask her! And give her the roses!"
And don't kill the roses. And don't die of a heart attack. My heart was pounding so fast and crazy as I zipped down the stairs and to the front door, roses in hand, that I was sure that it would just snuff out. Like a dying motor. But it had better not, since I didn't want mourners carrying my coffin to the dance. I landed right in front of the door with a thump, and I was shaking like an earthquake. Don't freak out, don't freak out… HELLLP!! I'm freakin' out!! But before my brain totally shut down, I seized the doorknob and yanked the door open, squeezing my eyes shut.
"I…I…Buttercup, I…" I spluttered. Get a grip. Don't you dare freak out. I plucked up every particle of courage in my body, and thrusting my bundle of rose out in a dramatic pose and dropping to my knees, I cried:
"B-cup, I love you!! Will you go to the dance with me?!!"
Silence. *crickets chirp* What; was she too awestruck to answer or something? Curiously, I slowly opened my eyes, and my heart literally stopped. In one dull thud. There was an acne attacked, Malph's deliveryman standing in front of me, holding a bag with the groceries that Professor had ordered online yesterday, his mouth hanging open in a perfect dumbstruck O. And then the waistband of my dress pants, with that damn loose elastic, dropped down and settled on the floor. Spotlight on my boxers, out for the whole world to see. My jaw hit the floor like a boulder and time stopped. None of the muscles in my body would respond, and I could only gape up at the guy from where I was kneeling on the floor, in my bunny patterned boxers and presenting a bouquet of roses. The silence hung over us, like we were in a bad romantic comedy that somebody'd just paused. Hell's freaking bells. Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god…. OH MY GOD!! In the same moment, he dropped the groceries and I dropped the roses, and we both shrieked like girls.
"!!!!!!!!"
I bolted into the house at a speed thousands of times faster than light, and the deliveryman ran away towards the street at the same speed. I slammed the door shut, panting, my face redder than a tomato, pulling up my pants with shaking hands. God, please shoot me now. And lo and behold, Brick was standing in front of me, laughing his butt off. My face dropped instantly. How about shooting me now?? I crossed my arms and glared at Brick until he finally stopped laughing enough to talk.
"Buttercup's… going…out..w…with Mitch!! She's already out with him now!! She's going with him to the dance!!"
The world stopped again. Did I just hear what I think I did?!! My jaw crashed open.