Gordo grudgingly got out of bed for the first time that day and walked into his bathroom. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and shuddered. His curly black hair was tangled and matted. His eyes were bloodshot and watering from the bright lights above the sink.
His mother Roberta poked her head into the bathroom. She was on the phone with her best friend Susan from the Neighborhood Ladies' Association. "I spent $1500 on that landscaping," Roberta bitched. "And all to lose the Yard of the Month contest to those white trash Jansens down the street. My God, did you see the horrible weeds growing behind their rosebushes? It's absolutely appalling!" She paused to listen to Susan's response. "Oh, I know! Believe me, I AM outraged. I'm going to file a complaint. Obviously, this is either a mistake or some sort of conspiracy," she continued. Gordo sniffed around him. What the fuck is that smell? He wondered. Was it him? He lifted up his shirt and sniffed it. Too bad he hadn't noticed the stain on it a minute ago. Gordo inhaled the overwhelming scent of his own vomit, and gagging, ripped his shirt off and threw it onto the floor. Roberta looked alarmed. "Well, I better get going. I need to go check on David," she told her friend. "No, he's still not feeling well. He seems to have picked up some sort of stomach bug." Gordo tried not to laugh out loud. If Roberta really knew why he was sick, he would get the ass whipping of his life. "Have a great day, Susan. And don't forget, boycott the Ladies' Association meeting tomorrow night! Ciao!" Gordo rolled his eyes and opened his medicine cabinet, taking out a bottle of Tylenol.
"Hi, mom," he said. "What's going on?" Roberta drummed her nails against the countertop.
"Oh, I was just talking to Susan about the Yard of the Month. We were robbed," she told him, her brow furrowed in anger. Gordo took out a bottle of Tylenol and popped two pills in his mouth, swallowing them dry.
"I'm going out with Lizzie and Kate tonight," he told Roberta. He kicked his shirt over towards the dirty clothes hamper.
"I don't know, David," Roberta answered, cringing as she spotted Gordo's shirt crumpled up on the floor. "These stomach bugs are highly contagious. You wouldn't want Lizzie or Kate to catch it from you." Gordo had to think quickly.
"Actually, I think it was food poisoning," Gordo lied. "I ate some really weird tasting Chinese takeout at the McGuires' the other night." Roberta frowned.
"Well, do whatever you think you need to do," she said dismissively. "I'm going to go over to Susan's for a while and talk about forming our own Ladies' Association. The leadership of our current club is just out of control." Gordo nodded and walked over to his closet. He slid open the floor length mirrored doors to reveal a pile of dirty clothes covering the floor and a row of polo shirts hanging neatly above it. Gordo selected a sherbet green Lacoste polo shirt and a pair of Ralph Lauren khaki shorts. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and reluctantly put some eyedrops in his swollen, burning eyes. He heard Kate honk from outside of his house, and he hurried out to her Escalade, sliding into the backseat next to Lizzie.
"God, why do I have to drive like a fucking chauffeur?" Kate asked, clearly miffed that no one was sitting up front with her. She tossed a trash can to Gordo. It was decorated with paint pens and said "KATE" in large pink letters with little hearts, stars, and flowers all over it. "DON'T vomit in my car," Kate ordered. "I brought you this." Gordo stared at the trash can, not sure whether to be insulted or humored.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "I haven't vomited since…" he checked his watch. "One hour and thirty two minutes ago."
"Ugh!" Kate exclaimed, clearly disgusted.
"Calm down," Lizzie instructed her. She put her arm around Gordo and gave him a squeeze. "I'm sure he'll be fine!"
"Thanks McGuire," Gordo said. "So where are we going?" Kate's eyes glimmered.
"We are going to relive some fifth grade memories," she said excitedly. Gordo raised his eyebrows. That didn't sound Kate-ish at all.
"We're going to Laser Corral!" Lizzie squealed. Gordo felt a rush of excitement. He loved playing Laser tag. "It was my idea," Lizzie continued. Lizzie smiled at Gordo. She knew how much he had loved their weekly trips to Laser Corral as kids, and now that they were older, they might have even more fun. It was dark, romantic – well, maybe not romantic, but it was full of little caves, nooks, and hiding places where she and Gordo could share a "special" moment. She rested her head on Gordo's shoulder, grinning up at him. This would be fun.