Life After Dinosaurs

1-Styling

"It'll be cool," Rodger assured me. He had nothing to worry about. He had the same chin as the guys from the Jonas brothers, and the same swept hair as Bieber. This sixteen-year-old celeb-fest would take him in with open arms.

The only person that ever called me handsome was my mother.

"It won't Rodg', they want cute boys. You said it yourself, Danny told you," Despite my protests, Rodger ran the comb through my gelled hair.

"It was Tony, man. We got the invite from Tony, who heard it from Justine who..." Rodger focused on the part in my hair as he talked. He was determined to make me stand out. It really didn't make any sense why he wanted me to come.

"You don't need to go through the long chain of people I don't know." I told Rodger. "By hook or crook you got the invite, and now we're going to try to sneak in to a millionaire's birthday party," I complained and tried to steal a glance at the mirror. His body obscured the reflective pane, leaving my view limited to his messy room. The only decorating it received was the occasional addition of another FPS or Maxim model posted onto his wall. His short white terrier Princess sniffed at the air as she lounged on Rodger's pillow.

"Dude, how many times do I have to go through this? We're not sneaking in. It's an open invite to hot girls and boys of high school age. We're fifteen. We qualify," Rodger assured with a smirk.

"You qualify," I mumbled.

Rodger shook his head and he took a second to look me over. His finger ran over his lips. Rodger was one of my oldest friends. We went to the same church in elementary and had a falling out when his parents divorced in fifth grade. By the time High School showed up he had become one of the bad kids who liked to spend lunch by the dumpsters smoking pot. I had pretty much stayed the same. I still loved dinosaurs and the Avengers and all of the things that everyone else grew out of. Ina lot of ways we were completely different people now, but Rodger remembered me as being a good friend. Maybe that was why he was trying to be one now.

Finally, Rodger grabbed his leather jacket and his Rayband sunglasses. "Put these on."

I grimaced andcomplied, like usual. Then I checked the pockets; I had to. I found his hash pipe and altoid tin full of zigzags and pot. The opposite pocket had his Marblo Menthols--the same brand his Aunt smoked. It also had the zippo I got him for his birthday last March. I took them out and showed them to Rodger.

Rodger grabbed pipe and altoids tin and tossed it onto his bed.

"Keep the rest," Rodger said with a grin before he walked away from his full length closet mirror. "It's for the image."

I lowered the sunglasses and glanced at myself in the mirror. Blue jeans, red and purple flannel shirt, leather jacket, sunglasses, and slicked back hair. My freshly cut hair was so short that it looked somewhere in-between Ryan Seacrest and the Fonze. I looked like a tool.

"Admit it," Rodger boasted. "I'm awesome!"

I took the sunglasses off and held them out to Rodger. "I look ridiculous. Who am I supposed to be?"

"You're a bad boy. Chicks dig that shit!" Rodger beamed. "Trust me, you go to the party looking like this you won't worry about me ditching you, you'll worry about me slowing you down."

Was that what this was about? Did he want to feel okay when he left me in a sea of strangers? If that was the case, why bother taking me in the first place?

I put the Raybands in the jacket's front coat pocket. Without the glasses I actually didn't look that bad. I kind of had a long horse-like face, and the shorter haircut gave me this juvie hall kind of vibe. I hated to admit that Rodger was right.

"You couldn't turn me into a Bieber so you turned me into a thug?" I accused.

Rodger chuckled. "Dude just relax. Except when we get to the check in, then act like you don't want to be there."

"That should be easy," I said.

Smirking, Rodger checked his iPhone rather than acknowledge what I'd said. "They're gonna be here in five."

"Yay," I said in my best mock enthusiastic voice.

Rodger threw his arm around my shoulders. "Dude this is going to be the best day of your life! There's going to be thousands of available girls. All of them are going to be rich and sheltered and looking to party with a bad boy their parents would hate," Rodger said looking at me through the mirror.

My shoulders slumped from the extra weight. "Or they'll all be a bunch of dressed up poor girls like us."

He laughed.

---

Originally the story had no chapter breaks, but hey, this is Wattpad. There's gonna be some dated celebrity references here and there, so enjoy the flashback. I'm not sure if I had a time in mind when I wrote this, maybe 2008. In theory it worked in 2013, but it definitely feels dated now. Lol. Oh well, that's what happens when I drop some old work up here.

The drug paraphernalia has already dropped, but I promise we're not going to jump into Euphoria levels of drug content. Pot use was an ever-present part of my high school experience, so it's found its way here.

This is very much a story weighed down by misogyny, toxic masculinity, and the expectations thrown onto young boys. It's connected to the theme and plotting of the story so if you're getting bad vibes now, it's best to just wait for my next story and call it a day. Anything I put here as means of explanation threatens to get preachy, so I'll simply say that there's a lot to unpack if you're so inclined and my characters are rarely if ever paragons. 

Keep that in mind as the story progresses, because...um...well, Ian's not the best person in the world.