Chapter Three
Junior checked the time on his phone as he stood on the stoop outside his house. He grumbled and slid it back in his pocket. Where were Ronny and Willow? They were supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago.
"Junior! Yoo-hoo!"
Junior jerked his head up at the sound of the familiar voice, and saw little Jette waving her arms high over the gate. Jette was two years younger than him, in the fourth grade. She was a girl who was rather tall for her age, and had long blond hair that was ratted out and tied into two pigtails. Her skin was a little orange, and glittered because it was always moist and cold, like a fish's. She always was wearing these outfits that were stylish: a mini skirt paired with boots that had an incline in the heel, always with a jacket and a tank top that had some sort of graphic designs with sequins.
Junior had known her ever since he was little, and could never remember a time when Jette wasn't his friend. She was one of those kids who wanted to grow up faster than she could. She was brave and ambitious, and frankly, was the opposite of Willow.
"Jette!" Junior cried out, surprised. "You're back from New York?"
"Just got back last night," Jette said, opening the gate and allowing herself inside. Her boots clicked against the concrete walkway up to the house. "What are you doing today, Junior?"
"Waiting for Willow and Ronny to show up," Junior responded. "We're supposed to be working on our speeches for English class."
"What's it about?"
"The speech? Something about how important family is and how they shaped you, and blah blah blah." Junior shrugged his shoulders. "You know, one of those super sappy projects that unless you got a dead mother or grandmother or whatever, you're not going to be impressing anybody."
"But Junior, you're so smart!" Jette said, a purr in her voice. "You're going to do good no matter what."
"Man, I hope so. Here Jette, why don't we go inside and go up to my room?"
"Sure!"
The two sat cross legged on the floor, sipping from cans of soda. Jette laid across Junior's bed, one leg crossed over the other, stretching it and expanding her toes that were now freed from her boots.
"There's a dance coming up at the end of the year for the sixth graders, right?"
"Yep," Junior answered. "Coming up… next Friday, I think. It's a semi formal. Totally uptight."
"You can bring a date, can't you?"
"Yeah. It's kind of expected. Unless you're a loser," Junior said.
Jette set down her soda and rolled over. She had the demeanor of a Cheshire cat as she looked at him with a glint in her eye.
"So, have you thought about who you're going to ask?"
"Eh. I've gotten a few offers. Miranda Mayflower and Jessica Thompson. They're both pretty cute, but then I'm wondering who Willow's going to be left with."
"Ronny?" Jette suggested, arching a brow.
"No, Ronny's got his eye set on Hannah Walls. So, I'm probably going to end up taking Willow."
"Don't you think that might be a bad idea?"
"No. Why?" Junior arched a brow at her, as he sipped loudly from his can.
"Well…" she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I mean, Junior, she's human."
"Your point being?"
"You're not."
"Who says I'm not human?"
"Um… Well, think about it this way," she offered to him. "You know how if a kid is born of mixed parentage—like he has a black dad and a white mom—he's usually going to identify himself as one or the other, based off of who he looks like most?"
"I guess."
"So, you look most like your father, Bloo, so it's like you're an imaginary friend… dating a human."
"Once again, Jette, your point?"
"Well, won't people just give you a ton of crap for bringing Willow there?"
Junior paused, and he thought about it seriously.
"I guess…" he drummed his fingertips against the side of the can. "But they've always given me and Willow a ton of crap."
"But if you two were dating, wouldn't that be like total social anarchy?"
"Yeah."
"So why bring Willow? It's your first dance. Don't you want to remember it with a fondness?"
"Jeez, Jette." Junior laughed. "If you want to go or something, why don't you just go out and say it?"
"Oh…" Jette twirled a strand of her hair around one finger. "Oh, Junior, I'm not going to do that. I'm just saying: you can go with one or the other."
"What does that mean?'
"You can either love humans, or you can love imaginary friends."
"Who ever said anything about love, you crazy…" Junior grumbled, gulping down the rest of his soda and crushing the can in his fist. "Jette, I still don't understand what you're getting at."
"Willow's mother!" Jette blurted out, her hands gesturing the sound of her voice. "What I'm trying to say is that she doesn't like you! She doesn't like fanta-human sexuals, does she?"
"Well no. But she hasn't stopped…" Junior trailed off.
Oh. He might not be allowed to even bring Willow to the dance anyways. Her mother had tolerated them being friends, but bringing someone to a dance… wasn't that sort of like a promise? Like, you were dating that person or interested in that person?
Junior tossed the can in his wastebasket with a throw of his hand. He wiped his hands on his jeans and turned back to Jette.
"So you're suggesting that I just go with you?"
"Sure! I'm always available," Jette said cheerily, batting her eyelashes at him as if in an attempt to seduce him.
Junior saw this and he wrinkled his nose and laughed. "Jeez, Jette."
"Willow's a pretty enough girl as it is, anyways. She could find someone else to go with easily. But then again, parties don't really seem to be her scene." Jette stood up and walked over to Junior. "And I for one would be so happy to go."
Junior noticed that she was coming rather dangerously close to him. He smiled nervously.
"So…"
"Hey guys!" Ronny threw open the door of the bedroom, bursting in. His freckled face greeted him with his cheerful chipmunk smile. Willow stood behind him, books pressed to her chest.
An awkward silence fell in the room as Ronny and Willow stared at Jette and Junior. Everyone's face went bright red.
"Uh… did we interrupt something?" Ronny asked.
"Yes," Willow said with an icy tinge to her voice as she glared at Jette, "did we?"
"N-nah," Junior protested, laughing. "Look, guys, Jette's back from New York! She came to hang with us. Is that cool?"
"Cool with me," Ronny answered, plopping down on the floor in front of Junior's window and opening up his backpack.
"I don't care," Willow said huffily.
Junior cast a worried look over at Willow. She is soooooo pissed off.
All of them (except for Jette) then began to reach into their backpacks and pull out photo albums and start scribbling down notes for their speeches. Every once in a while they would stop and ask each other about an excerpt of theirs, sharing it aloud. Jette laid on the bed and played with a ball that Junior had in a basket in the corner of the room.
Junior sat there, chewing on the end of his pencil. In front of him, his notebook paper had been smudged and erased multiple times as he struggled to come up with a good intro. He couldn't think of anything, and was drawing a total blank, even though he had an assembly line of photos to look at and draw ideas from.
He glanced up at Willow, and when she saw him staring at her, she cast him an icy stare. He gulped and lowered his head. What was she so mad about? Jette? Did she think something had happened?
"I think that we should take a break," Willow volunteered, closing her photo album. "Anybody want a snack?"
"I'll help you out," Junior volunteered, climbing to his feet.
Willow protested sweetly, "No. No, that's okay."
She exited out the door and Ronny stared after her, confused and disappointed. He blinked and looked from Junior to Jette.
"She didn't even ask me what I wanted."
"What did you want?"
"Cookies. Duh."
The four of them spent their time in Junior's bedroom for two more hours, passing around a jar of peanut butter and munching on apple slices. Then when they couldn't take any more homework, they retreated outside to go and play basketball. Wilt wasn't around, but that was okay: they could play a game without him.
Willow and Jette preferred to watch from the sidelines and cheer for them; however they both cheered for Junior. A discouraged Ronny tried to dance and steal the ball from his friend, but Junior was just too good: he swept, dived, snatched, and leaped to slam dunk the ball.
When the sun was setting low on the sky, Jette and Ronny left, saying that they had to go home for dinner. As Willow and Junior waved goodbye from the porch, Willow was casting Junior looks of question.
"What were you and Jette doing?"
"Nothing. Just talking," Junior said, looking over to her. "What have you been so pissed off about all day?"
"It's nothing. Forget it." she picked up her book bag and slung the strap over one of her shoulders. "Are you going to walk me home?"
"Yeah."
They started on the path back towards Willow's mom's house.
"Willow, about the dance next Friday…"
"Yes?" Willow's tone seemed natural, hopeful—the least hostile she had been all day.
"I'm going to be going with Jette. Well, I'm going to ask her."
She stopped in her tracks, and stared up at him. "And why are you telling me this?"
"Because… well. I figured you might have been counting on me to be your date, so I just wanted to let you know ahead of time."
"You figured?" she repeated, emotion creeping into her voice. "You mean, you think that I couldn't go with anyone else, but yet you decided to go with Jette anyways?"
"Hey, I was—" Junior protested, but he was caught off by Willow.
"So I was walking in on something, and you lied to me," she said, her small little voice rising in pitch as the frustration and hurt began to control her.
"Well come on, Willow. Like your mother is going to let me take you to the dance. You know how she's always been iffy about my dads—"
"My mother isn't going to be making any decisions for me! Junior, are you saying that just because I'm human you wouldn't go with me?"
"Well… um… uh, I guess I'm sort of saying that. But look, it's more you than me."
"What do you mean?" she cried out. "I haven't ever rejected or spoken badly about your dads, or you! Just because my mom is my mom… she's not going to not let me go to the dance with you. She doesn't care! She's too busy with Carl…" she shook her head, and she looked like she was going to cry.
Now Junior was extremely concerned. "Willow, what…"
"You're such a hypocrite! You're the child of a human and an imaginary friend, and yet you don't want to date a human?"
"Hey! Who ever said anything about dating? I never said that. This is just about a dance! One stupid little dance out of all the dances we're going to be going to."
"And you're going to take Jette to each and every one of them," she said in a choked voice. "Junior, Junior, how could you do this?"
She was crying now, weeping into her hands. The tears slipped between her fingers. Junior deflated.
"Willow," he said quietly. "Willow, do you like me or something?"
"Oh my God!" she shrieked, and he jolted, jumping back in surprise. "You are so dense!"
She blushed violently, and he was too. He reached out to grasp her hand but she recoiled.
"No, don't touch me. I'm going home." She turned on her heel and promptly walked away as fast as she could.
Junior stood there stupidly in the sidewalk, watching her go. He kicked at the ground furiously and then ran back home. All sorts of things were swirling around in his mind and he couldn't get them out and he was just so amazingly angsty.
He opened the door and saw his father, Bloo standing there in the front hall, sipping from a juice box.
"I think I'm a terrible person."
He walked up the stairs then without saying another word, and Bloo stared after him.
"Uh. Okay! Good… good job." He confusedly wandered off.
