I look at the clock: 11:15. My heart races and a familiar cold chill washes over me. I put my head on the pillow, but I don’t take my eyes off the clock: 11:16, 11:17, 11:18, 11:19, 11:20. The alien awakes and wants out! Scratch, scratch, scratch: 11:21. It’s relentless! Scratch, scratch, scratch: 11:22. I can’t breathe. I gasp for air. Scratch, scratch, scratch: 11:23. I let out a breath and expand my lungs again. My heart rhythm normalizes, and the alien goes dormant. There is no doubt about it. Something is alive inside me. I shudder at the thought, but I close my eyes and eventually fall asleep.
Ican’t believe it’s Friday already. But to be fair, my school week didn’t start until Wednesday since Monday was Labor Day and Tuesday…
School is the same old, same old. Morning classes go okay, but lunch brings something unexpected—new friends. As I head outside to sit on my spot on the wall and eat my cold pizza alone, I notice acne-faced Paul is having lunch with a girl I don’t recognize. We make eye contact, and he motions me over to sit with them.
“Welcome to the nerds’ table,” he says.
“Well, then I’m in the right place. Proud nerd here!” I reply.
“This is my platonic friend, Latica.”
“Hi, platonic-friend Latica, I’m Simon, Paul’s other platonic friend from drama class.”
Latica gives a small wave. She is very introverted, much more so than Paul.
“I have a neighbor named Simon,” she says with a whisper.
“Oh, really? Small world, huh?”
We stare at each other for a moment. I’m not really sure how to respond. Latica just smiles. She eventually says something else, but she speaks with such a soft voice that I strain to hear her. It doesn’t matter, though; I can tell she is sweet and has good energy. I like her immediately.
“Egg salad again? Why is it always egg salad?” Paul’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he slides his sandwich down the table to rest in front of me. “Simon, you look like someone who eats egg salad.”
“I do? Okay. Thanks.”
I don’t want his sandwich, but I appreciate the gesture. I regret being rude to Paul yesterday. I’m sure he is a kind person as well, even if he is a bit odd. The three of us have an awkward but nice time, and I hope to eat lunch with them again next week. I wasn’t looking to make new friends, but I’m glad I did.
Driving home after school, with the wind in my hair and the music blasting, I’m happy even though PJ’s behavior was a repeat of yesterday. He rushed into class as the bell rang and ran out the door with goth-girl Suzi as soon as class was over. No matter what I did to catch his eye, he wouldn’t look my way. Things are not looking good on the romance front. I call Mags for our daily check-in. She is working on college applications, so I let her go. I consider calling Neel, but he doesn’t like to talk on the phone, and I will be seeing them both tomorrow anyway.
“Siri, play ‘Take it Easy’ by the Eagles.”
Damn, I love this song! I might be tone deaf, but I belt out every word, drawing out “easy” into at least five syllables. Sure, PJ is ignoring me, but I’ve made three new friends. Hector, Paul, and Latica. I’ve accepted I’m gay, and I’ve already come out to two people. Tomorrow, I’m going to come out to Neel. Tonight, Mom is coming home early for a change, and we’re going to make it an old school family movie night.
Movie nights are nostalgic for me and bring back such good memories from when it was just Mom and me against the world. We had no money, and we lived in a shitty apartment, but every Friday night, Mom splurged on dinner and treats for us.
The fun would start with Mom picking me up after school. No bus ride home for me! The first stop was always the library. We would pick out books for weekend reading and a DVD or two for movie night. In fact, this is how Mom met Carole. Carole worked at the library circulation desk and got to know us very well as Friday afternoon regulars. She used to hold back the new DVD arrivals for us behind the desk. Clearly, this was a great big librarian no-no, but she never got caught, as far as I know. I usually wandered off to the fantasy or science fiction sections while Mom and Carole flirted. Ah, good times.
After the library, Mom and I would head out to dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant, Hunan Manor. I always got my favorites: hot and sour soup, egg rolls, duck sauce, and lots of spicy mustard. Last stop was the convenience store for candy, soda, and, of course, popcorn.
One Friday evening, Mom said, “You know the nice lady from the library who always puts the new movies aside for us? Well, she’s joining us for dinner and a movie tonight.”
After dinner and the movie, Carole ended up spending the night. To tell you the truth, I don’t remember her ever going back home. It was as if she moved in that night. Days became weeks, then months, then years. Eventually, they made it official and got married. I’m smiling now, remembering those happy Friday evenings together. I would always go to bed with a sick tummy from all the junk food I ate, but I never cared. It was worth it. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a family movie night. This will be the first one in our new apartment, and I can’t wait. But first, I have a few stops to make. First up, haircut.
I locate the local Hair Cuttery in a strip mall. It’s crammed between a Pho restaurant and a Dollar Tree. I almost miss it. I’m sure most of the kids in my new school don’t go to Hair Cuttery, but it’s cheap and where I have always gone. The salon is quiet except for the smooth jazz that drifts from the sound system. Another teenager is getting his hair cut while his mom flips through an old copy of Woman’s Day in the waiting area. The rest of the hairdressers stand around making small talk with one another. A rough-looking lady motions me to the hair washing station where a girl, not much older than me, waits with a smile. Sporting a halter top and a face full of makeup, she smacks her gum as she lathers my curls into a soapy crown. When she is done washing my hair, she sends me back to the rough-looking lady. Ugh!
“Whatcha want, sweetheart?”
The rough-looking lady scares the hell out of me with a raspy voice straight from a late-night COPD commercial. An acrid stench of cigarettes hovers in the air around her. Thankfully, she doesn’t say much as she cuts my hair. Her attention is focused on the other hairdressers as they quip about their favorite TV shows. I close my eyes and daydream it’s PJ running his hands through my hair.
Being a weird, creative kid, I like to make up stories. I pretend the hairdresser’s name is Madge and after work, she and the other hairdressers hang out at a bar called the Delta Lounge. The Delta Lounge, with its shag carpeting and wood-paneled walls, hasn’t been updated since the seventies. Madge sips Diet Coke while the girls drink cheap wine. I crack myself up thinking about this.
“What’s all the smiling about, honey?” croaks Madge.
Caught off guard, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“I’m looking forward to movie night with my family tonight.”
“Now, isn’t that refreshing?” she calls over to the other hairdressers. “Girls, we’ve got a real, live teenage boy who is happy to spend time with his mother and father. I think that’s wonderful. Just like America used to be.”
