"And that's it for today on the structure of cells," I said, crossing my arms and looking out over the classroom.
I had just taught my first biology lesson, and I had to say, I kind of enjoyed it. I tried to do things that I would find interesting, so after going over the basic structures in the cells, and what they do, I told the students to make their own cells with sugar cookies, frosting, and candy. It was something I had done when I was back in seventh grade and besides, who doesn't like free food?
Mrs Yves had told me to dress "more properly" than I usually did, so I was wearing a button up, dress jacket, dark jeans that had no holes in them, and some dress shoes. I felt all dapper and shit. It was weird, I caught a few of the sophomore girls looking at me like they wanted me or something. Even though they were only a year or two younger than me, I felt like some big old creeper. Maybe those teachers who get into relationships with their students got over that feeling. They must. I wasn't about to though.
"Nice job, today, Sid," Mrs Yves said, coming up to me while I cleaned up the mess. "I may use this activity again next year."
I was impressed.
"You did well, you were able to keep the student's attention. I always knew that you had learned something from this class, but you just didn't try," she told me.
"Uh, thanks," I said, giving her all my papers, "here's the lesson plan and my sources cited and stuff. I stuck mostly to the book though."
"Very good, since the book is what they will be tested on," Mrs Yves took the papers from me, then let me go to my next class.
I gathered up all my stuff, tossing the frosting and candy and shit because it was all stuff that I didn't particularly care for. I kept the cookies though. Just outside the door, Helga was waiting for me. She actually scared me, I jumped like a good foot and screamed. I still maybe sorta screamed like a little girl. I never really could change that, no matter how hard I tried.
"H-Hi, Helga," I said, once my heart had stopped pounding in my throat. "You want a cookie?"
"Not really," she arched an eyebrow at me. "I just came to see how your first lesson went."
"Um, pretty good actually. Yves said she might use the activity I had the class do next year."
"Is that what the cookies were for?" Helga inquired.
"Yeah, I had them make cells out of the cookies. Like they had all this different frosting and candy, and like the dark green frosting was the plant cell wall, and the light green was the chlorophyll..."
"Okay, okay, I get it," Helga smirked. "I'm guessing that's why you're so dressed up as well."
"Yeah, I feel like some pompous asscock, dressed like this," I rubbed the back of my head and freed my hair from the ponytail it was in.
"You should dress like this more often," Helga said as we started walking some place, maybe to her locker or her next class, "it makes you look like less of an angry, hormonal teenage, and more like a productive member of society."
She kissed my cheek and walked off just as the late bell rang, leaving me standing there. She had actually kissed my cheek, in public, no less! I looked around expecting to see no one around, but there were a few stragglers who hadn't gotten to class. Wow! They didn't look like they had even noticed though, which I suppose was good for Helga.
I had almost forgotten about the game, I mean, I hadn't even thought of it for months. At this point it didn't even matter. I was over the popularity contest that I was so obsessed with last year. Sure, it was what made me pursue Helga in the first place, but my desire to have the social status that came with dating Helga had long since dissipated. Personally, I was over high school now. It wouldn't even matter in the long run. Just like I had accepted that one day, my relationship with Helga would end, I had accepted that trying to climb the social ladder in high school was pointless. I guess it just wasn't as big of an epiphany as my relationship was.
And technically, it didn't even count since I had lost the game anyway the first day I spoke to her. So whatever, fuck you high school, here's a big fat middle finger.
I realised that I was now hopelessly late for my next class, and the late pass Mrs Yves had given me wouldn't even cover it. But it was just my creative writing class, and this year it was only people who were genuinely interested in writing (except me, as I was taking it for an easy elective credit). The class was around eight people, which meant the teacher didn't really care. Besides, he already knew about what Mrs Yves was doing for me.
So I strolled right into that bitch like it was nothing. Everyone looked mildly shocked to see me in something besides the hipster-plus-punk-meets-grunge style I had perfected over the years.
"Sorry I'm late," I apologised to the teacher, "it took me longer than I thought to clean up after class. Do you want a cookie?" I brandished the box full of sugar cookies around.
"I want a cookie," several of the other kids in the the class said.
The cookies were passed out. All was well.
–
"Sid, are you busy?" Dad was standing in my open door way.
I put down my guitar. I had been practising some of the new songs that the guys and I planned to record in Harold's attic later on in the week. I was busy, but this sounded like something I shouldn't be busy for.
"No, Dad, what's up?" I asked, sitting up properly.
"We should talk," Dad said, coming in the room and taking a seat next to me on the bed.
"...About what?" I asked slowly.
"College."
Oh, right. Okay, cool. That was much better than what I thought it would be about. Like sex or how much I smoked pot or something. That would be awful, getting a lecture from my dad, who gets more ass than anyone I know, about sex.
"Oh, yeah, and?"
"Have you thought about applying to any schools? You need to start applying soon if you want to get into any schools at all. The university here is a good school. It's where I went."
"Dad, I thought I told you this, I'm not going to college just because that's what society expects me to do."
Dad frowned and looked angry for a second. Maybe I actually hadn't told him that. A slight oversight on my part.
"Are you not going to get a job because that's what society expects you to do?"
"I'm not that dumb, that I think I could get by without a job. I just want to go and do something I really love, and if I go to college, I want it to be because I really want to learn. Wouldn't you be happier that way, Dad? If I went to school and wanted to be there instead of going now and wasting your money by failing all my classes and dropping out after a semester? Because that's what I'm going to do if I go now."
Dad glared at me, "Well, if you don't go to college, you're going to have to work. I'm not going to have you laze around the house smoking weed all day."
"Dad, I'm already working. I don't plan to quit the record store, and my band's starting to get really big. We're going to play a show in New York this weekend. We could do a tour. We could get signed if we toured the whole summer."
"Sid, I'm not saying this to drag you down, but usually bands don't go far. I don't know if you should bank on being in a band for the rest of your life."
"I'm not. I'm doing it now because I really like doing it. And we really could go somewhere!" I said, starting to get a little defensive. "I don't plan on being in the band for the rest of my life. But we've been getting calls, places not even from here want us to play."
"I know you're doing better than the average garage band, but what is everyone else planning to do? Allen, doesn't he plan on going to college?" Dad asked.
"I dunno, that's why I don't want to make any plans yet. Would it be so bad that I took a year or two off from going to college if we ended up getting big? What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm not ready to go to college yet, Dad!"
Dad sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This conversation would be going nowhere fast, because I was just like Dad: stubborn. Neither of us wanted to give up our position. I could tell Dad was just trying to be a good father and blah blah he's my Dad so he knows what's best and all, but what I wanted him to get was if he forced me into college now, it would be a waste of his money.
"Just apply to a few colleges. You could get in to a good college, even with your grades because your SAT was good. Just apply to a few," Dad urged me.
"Stop already, will you? I'll apply, but I won't go. I'm not into that whole go to college straight after high school, get a four year degree, get a decent job, marry a bitch and have two point five kids life plan. It worked out so well for you, right? I wouldn't be happy doing that. I just wouldn't, Dad, and that's why I don't want to go to college," I told him.
Dad looked resigned and sighed, ignoring my jibe at him. He stood up and crossed his arms, giving me a hard look. I just raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for Dad to say something.
"Fine, Sid, you can do whatever you want after you graduate, but know that I'll only support you financially if you choose to go to college," he said.
"That's cool with me!" I said. "'Cuz when I'm a famous rockstar, I won't need your money!"
I couldn't tell if I was being sarcastic or not. I think I was. I didn't honestly think that the band would be the way I made my living. But the real answer was that I had no clue what I wanted to do after graduation.
Dad rolled his eyes and left in a huff.
–
"What are you doing this weekend?" I asked Helga.
We were walking back from school. I was just walking Helga to her house before I had to go to work at four. It was starting to get colder during the day now, which meant I got to bring out the leather jackets all the time. That was totally okay with me, because I had been working on a new DIY jacket that was turning out pretty kick-ass.
"Nothing," Helga shrugged, then wised up. "Why?"
"We're playing a show in New York on Friday. I'd like you to come, is all," I said.
"I'll have to think about it," Helga crossed her arms against the prevailing wind.
"It'll be fun, we're going to rent a hotel room and stay there until Sunday. Go and do New York touristy shit, then get fucked out of our minds, go to a show, and piss on the subway."
"You can piss on the subway here," Helga gave me an odd look.
"You can piss on any subway anywhere, I wasn't going to actually do it, but Harold might, if he gets drunk enough. We're driving up Friday right after school gets out, it's neat, the venue's legit."
"Where?"
"It's a hole in the wall bar on the Lower East Side, but we're playing with these two other super cool sludge bands. They invited us to play with them because they heard us and were like, those dudes should play with us."
"Fascinating," Helga commented dryly.
"Will you come?"
"Sure," Helga said, but she didn't sound like she wanted to go. "I won't even have to ask Bob or Miriam for permission, because they won't notice."
I bit my tongue because I didn't know quite what to say and the tone of her voice made my skin crawl. She made it sound like Helga could announce that she was pregnant or addicted to heroin or something like that and they wouldn't notice. How could her parents be like that? Not notice shit? You think that they would notice something.
"Awesome, I'm glad you'll come. I like having you at shows," I said, and noticing that we were coming up towards Helga's house, stopped and gave her a nice goodbye kiss.
Helga looked disinterested, but I chalked it up to being in a shitty mood about her parents.
When Friday rolled around, the guys and I were like kids on Christmas with how excited we were. We had asked about every direction service there was for directions, so we wouldn't get lost, because if I hated driving around this city with all its one way streets, I would hate driving around Manhattan even more. It wasn't like I had a ton of experience with New York either. It was mostly going to the museums and stuff in elementary school, because they were so close.
It was Harold driving his station wagon with Allen and Kevin and then Dad lending me his Grand Ville again (very reluctantly) so Stinky and Helga and Phoebe could ride with me. I told Helga that she could bring a friend if she wanted, because sharing a hotel room with five guys probably isn't the most comfortable thing for a girl.
Dad had lectured me for like, an hour, on how he expected his car to come back in one piece, it was dangerous for a nice, antique car like his to be in a city like that and blah blah blah. I pointed out to him that we were only a half hour drive from "that city" and it wasn't exactly like we lived in some Midwestern town full of Midwestern hospitality. I also mentioned that our neighbourhood sucked and he left the car out in the driveway all the time, so I didn't know what he was worrying about.
Dad then muttered that a smartass like me was lucky to still be allowed to borrow the car.
It was going to be a tight squeeze, getting everything to fit into the car along with three other people. I contemplated telling Helga to just take the train over because it would be easier, but that would most likely result in her not coming at all. So I ended up being glad for the hours I wasted on Tetris as a kid, seeing as it was probably those skills that let me fit everything into the car. I hoped Helga wasn't claustrophobic.
So Friday afternoon Helga and I walked to Dad's car, which I parked on a street with no meters a few blocks away. Helga looked like she was in a better mood today than when I had last seen her. I mean, she laughed at my jokes about New York, but they could have just been pity laughs.
"So, we need to go pick up Phoebe?" I asked while I started the car.
"Yeah," Helga said and told me her address.
I pulled out of the parking spot and sped off. It was kind of a bad-ass feeling, driving to New York to play a show, with a hot girl in the passenger seat and a cigarette in my hand. I had brought my boom box and connected my mp3 player with an aux cord, so we didn't have to listen to crappy radio stations.
Once we picked up both Phoebe and Stinky, the sun was starting to set. It wasn't too long of a drive there, but traffic was awful. Along the way, Helga changed places to the back seat, so she and Phoebe sat there together, talking about something that I couldn't quite make out over the music, while Stinky and I sang along to whatever was playing. When we finally made it to the venue, which luckily had an alley that we could park in, it was dark and Harold had already arrived.
They had all their stuff set up and were talking with the other bands.
"What took you so long?" Allen asked.
"I had to stop and buy some drugs, no, what do you think? Fuckin' traffic," I shrugged.
Helga and Phoebe took a seat at the bar. Helga pulled out her phone and began to text. She could at least act like she was a little bit excited to be here for the weekend, Christ. The guys in the two other bands came over and introduced themselves. They also asked if we needed help unloading anything else, but since it was only Stinky's gear and mine, it wouldn't take too long for us to finish setting up.
Once all the gear was set up, I took a deep breath and relaxed, swinging my arms around to release the tension in my shoulders. Helga was still at the bar, sipping on a soda. Phoebe was on the phone, probably with Gerald.
"So, you guys got groupies already? Damn," the singer for one of the bands, Ian or something, laughed.
"Ha, I wish," I said, "the blonde one's just a good friend," I lied. All lies. "And the other one is her friend. I practically had to get on my knees and beg to get her to come."
"So you've only played in Hillwood before? Their music scene kinda sucks," Ian said before taking a sip of his drink.
"Yeah, 'cuz it's where we all live. I don't think we have the ability to do anything more than New York yet." I didn't really want to mention the fact that we were still in high school to Ian, who had the physique of a mountain man and the beard to match. He also sounded like he had balls of steel and drank the blood of first-born sons for breakfast.
"Well, New York's great to start out. Build up a good fanbase first before you do a real tour. Have you guys recorded in a studio yet?"
"Not yet, we want to though. Our 'manager,'" I used airquotes to refer to Kevin, "his father owns a record store in Hillwood, and knows a couple studios... he's the guy who got Gilgamesh started. So it would be cool if he could do the same for us."
"Gilgamesh? Really? They're pretty cool guys, we played with them once before."
"Yeah, they're all really good, fun guys, actually, the first time we ever played a real gig, we opened for them. I've never been so nervous in my life."
"Wow! Props to you kid, you'll do fine tonight then," Ian lightly punched my arm, at least I think he tried to "lightly" punch it. Still knocked me over a couple inches.
I walked away rubbing my arm and feeling a little slighted, I always did when people called me kid. It's not like I was nine any more, I was eighteen and legally an adult. I mean, yeah, all those guys were probably like thirty or something but whatever. No use getting all worked up over a three letter word.
Since the show wasn't going to start for a good hour, I stood around having cigarettes outside, mingling with the band members and people in the bar, and begging Harold to let me into his car so I could take hits off my one-hitter and have a shot or two to get me into the mood to play. Even though I was in a band and making the bar money and not to mention the fact that it was the slummiest looking place I had even seen, they marked my hands up with X's the second I walked in the door.
So I was in the car throwing back my second shot to take the edge off things. The bar's side door opened and I quickly dropped the vodka to lap-level, where whoever it was hopefully couldn't see it. But then I saw it was just Helga so it was okay. She walked over to Harold's car and pulled the driver's side open. She sat next to me and chewed on her lip.
"Give me a cigarette," she said.
"I thought," I started, but stopped, deciding that it would be better to not bring up the fact that I thought she quit.
So I silently pulled two cigarettes out of my pack and handed one to her. I lit mine, then handed her the lighter.
"Yeah, I did, but one more won't fuckin' kill me much faster than all the rest," Helga said sullenly. "This is lame. I thought you said this would be a bucketload of fun, or some shit like that. And it smells like asshole in here."
"Well that's Harold for you, and 'sides, the night hasn't even started yet," I said, ashing my cigarette out the window. "You didn't have to come, you know, if you thought this wouldn't be fun. Besides, this is the boring part, waiting for the show to start."
"Still better than sitting around at home," Helga took a deep drag on her cig, exhaling the plume from her nose. She looked like a dragon.
It was weird, the way she was acting. It did remind me of a dragon, in a way. She was being quieter, she was just exhaling smoke from her nose. I hoped that soon I would see the fire, the spark, that made me love her so much.
"You're being a bit of a Debbie Downer, here, y'know," I said without thinking.
"I'm being a... yeah fucking right!" Helga spat. "Make up your mind, Gifaldi, you hate me when I'm angry, you hate me when I'm quiet, criminy!"
"I don't hate you! Don't put words in my mouth!" I returned, taking a deep drag on my cigarette to calm myself down. "You should fuckin' know by now I adore every inch of you."
"And you think you speak so slick, you're really just a manipulative asshole who thinks he can get away with everything," Helga ground out her cigarette on the dashboard.
"And is there anything wrong with doing things you know you can get away with?" I asked. "I think we're quite a pair, you and me, a passive aggressive bitch and a manipulative asshole."
"If you think I'm passive aggressive..."
"An aggressive bitch and a manipulative asshole then," I corrected my previous statement.
"I miss the days when you were a coward," Helga muttered.
"Those days are long gone. I learned a long time ago that being a coward wasn't in the cards for me."
Helga snorted, "And what taught you that?"
"It's a long story," I said quietly. "But I guess my girlfriend freshman year did."
"The one you slapped?" Helga laughed.
"Yes, that one," I said with an edge to my voice.
Helga gave me a queer look but seemed to accept that I didn't want to talk about it. Someday I would tell her about, I supposed it was only fair since she had bared her soul to me about Arnold, but I hadn't even told Dad what had happened. Someday I would tell her. It was just one of those things that I really preferred keeping to myself.
"Fine, if we're not going to have a nice little heart to heart chat, then I'll leave you out here to get on with your budding alcoholism, bucko," Helga said shortly.
"Awesome, thanks," I said. "I'll tell you one day."
Helga just gave me that queer look again before slamming the door. I stayed out there for about fifteen minutes more waiting for my stomach to settle. Once I was sure I wasn't going to puke, I got out of Harold's car, locked it, and walked back inside the bar.
"Jesus, I was just about to go and get you, we're going on in ten minutes. I hope you're sober enough to sing," Harold hissed at me.
"I'm fine, lay off, Harold, you know I could drink you under the table if I really tried," I said, pushing past him.
Since we were least up on the band hierarchy, we went first, like usual. During the time I was outside, the bar had filled up considerably. This looked like it was going to be the biggest show we played yet, thanks to the popularity of the other bands.
I got up on stage with the rest of the guys and we all got ready, checking the sound levels again and making sure it all sounded good. When all the sound stuff was hunky-dory, I swallowed my nerves and stepped up to the mic.
"New York, what's up?" I said, willing that my stage persona would take over.
There was a half-hearted cheer from the crowd (I assumed it was because they weren't drunk yet). Stinky gave me a look, so I licked my lips and grinned out at everyone, grabbing the microphone stand so they wouldn't see my hands shaking.
"Well, we're Slow Turning Tide, homegrown over across the river, from Hillwood. Thanks to AFL-Fuck You, we're here playing tonight, and we're going to give you a fucking show!" I said, starting to strum out the first few chords of our opening song.
Once the music started to pour out of the speakers, I felt better and was determined to give the performance of my life. And I knew I would once I started belting out the first few words of the song. The crowd saw that we didn't suck because after a couple songs, they were getting into us. That was pretty cool. Actually, it was really cool. It was like a big middle finger to Dad who didn't think that I was good enough to make it.
The energy in the room was incredible, the way the crowd was moving and throwing their fists up and jumping around had me realise that my band was the one creating that energy and giving it to everyone. That was something I hadn't really experienced before. It was like I had come alive for the first time on that stage there.
Music has always been something that I enjoyed, like acting, sex, or being an asshole because I could. But that moment made me come to the conclusion that music was my passion. My raison d'être, if you will. I wanted to give anyone I could that energy all the time; I wanted to move them with my music; I wanted to make them feel because they were experiencing something I had created.
I was a different person when I stepped off the stage. I had my epiphany. Who cared what I did after graduation, all that mattered is that I continued to make music. Maybe I could even do college if I still was a musician. Maybe.
Harold, Stinky, Allen and I all bro-hugged and laughed and joked around with each other while we headed outside to smoke a cigarette.
"That was the best fucking show we've given!" Harold said, punching the air once we were out in the alley.
"Hell yeah!" Stinky agreed.
"I had a fuckin' epiphany out there," I said, having to share my revelation with somebody. "I think we could really make it as a band."
"Try telling that to my mom," Allen said.
"Well, we'll show her when we're playing shows every night and have a CD out," I said.
"Sid, I'd have to win a Goddamn Grammy or something before she thinks being a musician is a good career," Allen told me.
"What do parents know? They're old and settled. They don't remember what it's like to be young. They want us to do what they would do, but we gotta go and make mistakes."
"Despite the fact that all they're asking you to do is continue your education," Helga's voice said.
She and Phoebe had joined us outside. Phoebe looked a little traumatised, she probably wasn't used to having to fend against greater bodily harm at a concert. I bet she went to like, classical music concerts, or some smart-girl thing like that. Listened to people play the oboe.
"Hey, all I want to do is save my dad the cash. I've already figured out I'm not longed for the world of academia," I said to Helga.
"It is possible to graduate with a degree in music," Phoebe piped in.
"Whatever, the fact is, I don't want to go to college. Either way, we had a good fuckin' show. Celebration shot?" I asked.
"Celebration shot!" the guys responded.
Somehow we all piled in Harold's station wagon and passed the pint around. Even Phoebe took a sip, though she had to roll down the window and spit for a minute or two so she didn't throw up.
"Takes some gettin' used to, yeah?" Stinky said to her.
She nodded and made a face.
Then we went back inside where AFL-Fuck You was getting set up. The rest of the night was going to be awesome. Everyone came to see AFL-Fuck You and the other band, Ursula. We all hung out the bar, where Ursula's members were.
Phoebe was getting hit on by their creepy bassist, so Stinky stepped in to get him to back off. I was chatting to their drummer, while Helga looked like she was contemplating showing tits to get a drink. At least that's what I imagined her expression to be in my head, but then again, a lot of things are like that in my head. I don't think Helga would ever show her tits to get drinks. She was just classy like that.
Finally AFL-Fuck You were ready to start and the guys and I all dragged Phoebe and Helga right up front by the stage, so Phoebe at least could get a real concert experience. In the end, that was kind of a bad idea since Phoebe was so small, she kept getting smooshed against the stage. Ian finally pulled her up on stage and made her crowd-surf to the back, where she wouldn't get squished.
In the end, the night was really fun, because both Ursula and AFL-Fuck You wanted to perform with us again and we had a couple dates set up to perform again in the city. By the time we got everything packed up, it was bar close and the bartender, who apparently enjoyed the show, gave us all a round of tequila shots. Phoebe sat out on the shots, so she drove us all back to the hotel.
–
I opened my eyes the next morning and rolled over, ready to go back to sleep. But then my arm brushed against Helga's and I sat up. She had fallen asleep next to me and looked pretty silly with her mouth gaping open and her tongue lolling out. The others were strewn around the room. Harold was curled up with his thumb in his mouth; Stinky had his arms and legs spilling off the bed. Allen snored on the ground, unaware that over the course of the night, the air mattress had deflated. Phoebe was the only one sleeping like a normal person on the pull-out couch.
After checking the time, I decided that I did in fact want to go back to bed: it was six am. I scooted closer to Helga and draped my arm over her stomach, knowing that in the morning I could claim that I had done it in my sleep.
When I woke up again the room was empty. I slowly dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to take a piss, but someone was in there showering, so instead I grabbed my smokes and went out to the balcony to have one. It was chilly out, but the cold woke me up. I contemplated peeing off the balcony.
Once I had finished my smoke, I returned back inside, fully intending to take a shower so I could wash the grime of last night off me. Smashing your body against dozens of other large, sweaty men means you don't smell as fresh as you could the next morning. I guess the person in the shower was Helga, because she was sitting on the bed in her underwear, running her fingers through her damp hair. She looked up at me with those stupid beautiful eyes of hers and being the sissy that I am, I melted.
"Hey. G'morning," she said with a small smile.
"Morning," I said, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss.
There was something so genuine about her at that moment, something I had never seen before. The way her stomach folded over itself and how her panties creased where her thigh draped over the other and the way her smile made her eyes crinkle. She was in a good mood, there wasn't any false anger or any sort of front, it was just Helga, genuinely happy.
"Where's everyone else?" I asked, sitting next to her and enjoying the feel of her skin against mine.
"Dunno, I think they're at breakfast," Helga shrugged.
She began to braid her hair, so I rested my chin on her shoulder. She smelled good, even if it was just the scent of the hotel's soap.
"'Kay... what do you want to do today?" I asked.
"It doesn't really matter," Helga responded.
"Alright, I'll think of something then, I'm gonna go shower," I said.
"Good. You stink."
I laughed and gave her a kiss, a sweet kiss, running my thumbs over her cheeks. After pulling away, Helga smiled at me again. It was nice to see her smile for once. I never thought I would see her smile.
The shower was the best thing ever, even though the water pressure sucked. It was just nice to feel clean again, instead of all grimey from last night. Though I failed to think of anything Helga would like to do while I was in the shower. Going to the Museum of Modern Art was the only thing I could think of, and I didn't even know if Helga liked art as much as she liked writing. And I hated a lot of modern art anyway (not that I was big on pencil and paint art in the first place, but at least I could appreciate all those naked ladies the old masters liked to paint).
When I came out of the bathroom Helga was lounging on the bed, dressed and watching a MMA fight on tv.
"I didn't think of anything to do yet, but I think the guys are going to try and see Ground Zero and the Statue of Liberty today," I said.
"I'll pass, didn't we all go and see the Statue of Liberty in sixth grade on a day trip?" Helga asked.
"I don't really remember," I said.
Helga shrugged and went back to watching tv. I rooted through my duffel bag and pulled out some clean clothes. Glancing up in the mirror, I noticed Helga watching me dress. Surprisingly, she didn't shy away or scowl when I gave her a grin. Not bothering with my shirt, I turned around and jumped onto the bed next to Helga and pulled her on top of me.
We were like that for a long time until the door opened and everyone came back from breakfast. Helga sprang away from me immediately. I won't say I wasn't hurt, but I wasn't surprised. I had gotten used to the idea that Helga thought our relationship was something better kept secret.
"You guys missed breakfast, sucks for you," Harold announced, plopping down on the bed.
"I'm a dang simple guy, you know that, and I don't need much to be happy, but that breakfast right made me wanna puke," Stinky said. "So maybe it's best they didn' go."
"It was very non-nutritive for the most important meal of the day," Phoebe added.
"You guys are all pussies, I've eaten shit worse than that," Kevin said loudly.
I wasn't aware he had left the comfort of his own hotel room to join them for breakfast.
"We'll just go out and get something, no big deal," I said. "So what are we going to do today?"
"We're going to do all that touristy stuff, go to Times Square, Ground Zero, Statue of Liberty," Harold said. "And then go to a club and get fucked."
"I'm scoring the drugs for tonight," Kevin said. "So pony up everyone."
Phoebe looked uneasy as we all tossed bills at Kevin. Helga didn't throw down, but I put a little extra in there just in case. Kevin put the bills in his wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket. Then he saluted us and left.
"That guy does so many drugs," Allen said with a small shake of his head.
We all nodded in agreement.
"So, Helga, do you want to go and get breakfast?" I asked her.
"I guess, if we missed breakfast. Do you mind, Pheebs?" Helga sounded extremely disinterested.
"I'm sure I'll be okay for the short duration of your breakfast, Helga," Phoebe assured her.
"Good, because I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. Put on a shirt and let's go, Dick Nose," Helga got to her feet.
I rolled my eyes but pulled a shirt on while Helga struggled to find her shoes. I grabbed my wallet and threw on a jacket. Helga stuffed a few bills in her pocket then we were out the door. Down in the lobby I ask the concierge if there were any places to get breakfast around here. He told us that there was a Starbucks two blocks away, but a better, cheaper, local café three blocks away. I thanked him and we stepped out into the brisk fall air.
We didn't talk much as we walked. I lit up a cigarette. When we found the café, I hadn't finished my cig, so Helga told me that she wasn't going to wait around outside in the cold and watch me give myself cancer. I just raised my eyebrows at her. Did she really just say that to me? Whatever.
When I finished my cig, I ground it out on the pavement and stepped inside. Helga apparently already ordered and was sitting at a table by the window, breakfast in hand. I glanced at the menu, then stepped up to the register and ordered a plain coffee, three blueberry muffins, and two raspberry scones. After I was done ordering, I took a seat across from Helga.
"Well, are you enjoying yourself so far?" I asked.
She shrugged, "I guess, you?"
"Hell yeah, I got to play a sold out show, even if it was for a bunch of guys who looked like they haven't showered in weeks."
Helga chuckled and bowed her head to hide her grin.
I went on, "And I wish those guys would have taken longer at breakfast."
Helga turned faintly pink but scoffed.
"I like how you think the reason I don't want to have sex with you is because I'm a virgin," she said.
My eyes must have bugged out of my head when I heard that. So to cover the fact that I was so surprised, I crammed a whole muffin in my mouth (which was a bad idea, by the way – I nearly choked and died).
"You could have told me that earlier, so I didn't sound so stupid," I gasped once I had swallowed the last of the muffin.
"It was kind of cute, in a strange, fucked up way," Helga smirked at me. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me to give you details yet."
"Well, I am highly interested, but you probably held off on that info for a reason... so I'm not gonna be all, 'Gah, Helga, I must know your number, tell me now," or something like that. Even though I am really, really curious."
"Typical," Helga scoffed and took a sip of her coffee. "You're not as stupid as you try and make yourself. I'm sure if you thought really, really hard, you could figure it out."
"As stupid as I try and make myself?"
"Well, you seem to be quite determined to kill your brain cells every weekend."
"I'm just being a teenager."
"Normal teenager stuff, el-oh-el," Helga rolled her eyes but smirked.
Twenty minutes later we had finished our breakfast. I asked Helga if she wanted to walk around a bit and see if there was anything interesting, and she agreed. So we spent a good hour or so poking around, stopping in shops that looked cool. Helga bought a new notebook, and I got my Christmas shopping out of the way, which was surprising because I usually waited until December the twenty-third.
It was actually pretty nice, exploring the city with Helga. She was in a better mood than I had seen her in for a long while. I thought about asking her why she was in a good mood, but it was like she could read my mind. I didn't even have to ask.
"Your brand of fun sucks, but it's nice to have a break from the Bob and Miriam circus," she said.
"Excuse me? And what would you do?" I grinned at her.
"I would find the fight club," Helga laughed. "And then talk about it."
"Each to their own," I said with a dramatic sigh.
As we were heading back to the hotel, my phone rang. I figured it was Harold telling me to get my ass back to the hotel so we could go and sightsee, but it was Mom. I begrudgingly picked up.
"Hey, Mom," I said.
"I've been trying to get a hold of you for ages, where are you?" she demanded.
"Nice to talk to you too... I'm in New York, for my band, yeah? So what's up?" I glanced sidelong at Helga, who was pretending not to hear me.
"I— I just wanted to see if you'd be coming to my wedding," Mom sounded taken aback.
I let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger before saying, "Yeah, I mean, I'm your son, so course I'll be there." I tried not to sound defeated. "I'm sorry I stormed out of that dinner, it must have been the heat..."
"Sid, though I'm still mad you treated me that way, I can understand. I haven't really been there like I should have, so if you're willing to drop the attitude, we can try and work through things, okay?"
"That sounds good, Mom," I said, not really sure what to say. I mean, how could I turn that down? Sorry, Mom, I really liked you not in my life because Dad lets me do whatever I please? But she was my mom, so there wasn't much else to say.
"How did your band thing go? Did you win?" Mom asked.
"It's my... not, it's not for school, it's a band I started with some friends. But it was good, it went good. I'm out sight seeing now. I saw Times Square."
Helga was snickering to my left, listening to my blatant lies now that the conversation wasn't anything too personal.
"When are you coming home? You should call me when you're home and please, be safe, Sid. New York isn't as nice as Hillwood."
"Okay, Mom, I gotta go. We're uh, gonna catch a cab and I don't want to be that one guy talking on the phone loudly, so I'll call you when I'm home. Bye," I said and hung up before Mom could squeeze out a goodbye.
"How is it you always get people to apologise to you when you're the one who did something wrong?" Helga asked me.
"I dunno," I shrugged. "Everything comes up Sid. I can get away with anything," I grinned.
–
That night Kevin returned looking completely wired. Helga and Phoebe were getting ready for the club in the bathroom, doing their makeup and other chick stuff. Y'know, what girls usually do when they go to the bathroom together. Maybe they had hot lesbian sex? Who really knows what they do.
Kevin spread the loot out on one of the beds. I made sure to set some aside for Harold, since he was out on a booze run.
"I got good stuff," Kevin said. "Real good. Great. Fantastic."
"Yeah, and what is it all?" Allen asked, poking at a packet of pills that looked like Adderall.
"Any uppers you could dream of and then some delicious brownies because who wants to carry a pipe around, no one, for real, not about to get arrested again," Kevin said in a very rapid-fire manner.
"Kick ass," Stinky said, picking up a small packet of white power, completely ignoring Kevin.
"That, that I had to keep in my underwear just in case a cop wanted to pat me down," Kevin told us all. "Crotch it and it'll be safe."
Stinky promptly dropped the packet back on the bed.
"What is it?" I asked, sitting down on the bed.
"Blow. I'm pretty sure. 'Cuz the molly, that's in the little pills. I'm pretty sure I did it like that so I wouldn't forget, so yeah, that must be how it is."
Stinky gave Kevin a very hard look for a second, then went over to the bathroom and politely told the girls that if they didn't want to watch us getting messed up, they should probably stay in the bathroom. To probably everyone's great surprise, Helga left the bathroom and came to survey our assortment.
"Hey," I said to her.
I felt funny, laying out some rails on a hand mirror right in front of her. She surveyed me with a sort of idle curiosity. I bit my lip and contemplated not doing it at all. But I told myself, I would only do coke if I had a good reason, and a big ass night on the town seemed like a good enough reason. Not like I had the money to throw away on it anyways.
"What's that?" Helga asked.
"Coke," I said while rolling up a dollar bill.
When I brought my head up again everyone was looking at me expectantly. I closed my eyes and waited, sniffing and wincing.
"It's definitely blow," I coughed before setting the mirror down on the bed for Allen and Stinky. "I'm going to go have a cig."
Helga followed me outside. I offered her a cigarette just in case it was like last night, but she turned me down.
"So, how do you feel?" she asked, like she was curious about it.
"Pretty damn good. I don't know if I want to do anything else tonight besides Addie," I said quietly, because I was always paranoid when it came to talking about drugs while on them.
"That's surprising," Helga raised her eyebrows.
"You make it sound like I intend on becoming a junkie. I just like having a little fun. Even if you don't want to do anything, you should take some Adderall. You just feel really good and you'll be able to stay up all night. Feel really shitty the next day, but probably better than I will."
"I see," Helga said, giving no indication that I had convinced her of anything.
"Yeah," I lit up my cig and exhaled, shivering a little. "From what I've gathered, we're going to some club and we'll probably be at it until close."
"Wow, I think I died from information overload," Helga said. "I'll think about it."
"Your sarcasm amazes me," I said.
"It's a finally crafted skill. Maybe someday you'll be as good as me," Helga smirked.
"Oh, I could only hope to be as good at being sarcastic as the great Helga Pataki," I said. "It will be the only thing I shall ever strive for!"
"Shut up, you weasel," Helga swatted me, but I assumed she meant it in a playful manner because it didn't hurt too bad.
Someone in the hotel room had put on music. Glancing in there, I saw that Harold had returned. All the guys were throwing back shots while Kevin sat on the bed, feeling his hair.
"So... uh, what is he even on?" Helga had her eyebrow quirked as she watched Kevin.
"I... I don't know. I've never seen anyone act like that and I've seen Stinky take a lot of things," I said. "I just hope he doesn't follow us around."
Helga shook her head. I snuffed my cigarette and then dropped it off the balcony, hoping no one got hit in the head with it. Helga pulled the door open and we went back inside. Kevin had gone from feeling his hair to running his hands along his ripped jeans.
"I'm so thirsty," he muttered.
I turned away from him to give Harold a fistbump.
"Hey man, what'd you get?" I asked.
"I figured, since we're in New York, we should be classy an' shit so I got some Grey Goose and Ciroc."
"Nice," I picked up the bottle of Ciroc and looked it over before taking a swig right from the bottle.
About twenty minutes after we started drinking, Helga and Phoebe came out of the bathroom to join us. Helga had on a black shimmery dress that had one long sleeve with shiny things all up it. It was hard to keep my face neutral when I saw her. Phoebe looked nice too, but she was more understated than Helga in a navy blue scoop neck shirt and a tight white skirt.
"When are we dipping out for the club?" Helga asked, sitting next to me and picking up the bottle of Ciroc.
She handed it to Phoebe, who had two cups ready for them.
"I dunno, like... we're thinking about getting there around eleven, eleven-thirty. Don't want to get to the club too early, but you don't want to get there too late," Allen said.
So we whiled away the hours before our departure in the hotel room, drinking and listening to music and generally having a good time except for when Kevin tried to eat a pillow and cried when we took it away. He said it was the biggest marshmallow he saw in his life and it was telling him to eat it. We all worried how he would fare in the club.
At eleven we rounded everyone up and hit the road. The subway we took was pretty busy, since it was a Friday night and a club-filled area anyway. Standing on the train we were all pumped up and ready to dance. At one point, someone (no one remembered who) started singing and we pissed off all the other passengers I bet. There was some middle-aged man in a suit who looked like he was seconds away from yelling at us to shut up.
"What do you say when you're too fucked up?" one of us would sing.
"King Kong's dick in a tiny hole!" we would all answer.
By the time we got to our stop, even Helga and Phoebe were shouting along with us. Seeing tiny Phoebe yelling about dicks was certainly a sight to see.
"What do you say when you run out of drugs?"
"KING KONG'S DICK IN A TINY HOLE!"
And with that, we got off the subway, laughing the whole time. We were all pretty excited for the night ahead.
–
Hey, hey, kids! I'm alive.
Shit, it's been a long time since I updated this. Being an adult will do that to you.
And not having internet too.
The original version of this chapter was much longer, and I hadn't even really finished writing it? But I don't know, I couldn't think of a good conclusion, so I decided to chop it down. I keep forgetting that I haven't put this part up when I do art, so I'm just like, herp, they have no idea what I'm talking about. I've also read and re-read this chapter so much that I feel I won't notice mistakes? I'll give it a good five months then come back to fix them.
So yis. I really would like to finish this story, but at the rate it's going, I'll probably be like twenty-five before I finish, lol.