Growing Up and Other Tall Tales

Chapter 37

So I'm perfectly and justifiably so ready to spend my Halloween night curled up in bed, watching reruns of that terrible chick flick Hye-Rin had recommended on Kathy's old laptop, when Nick promptly kicks the room door open. ("Trick or treat, motherfucker!") Asa and Shane trail in after him, because of course they do, and they're far too caught up in a heated debate to greet me.

Nick looks a hundred percent through with the two boys as he hurls himself on my bed, planting his face right into the mattress. Effectively ruining the eyeliner Kathy had put on him. And I'm beginning to think that the he might've stopped breathing.

"— for the last time, I'm the sugar plum fairy, you fucker!"

"Look, dude, you could pass off as the wicked witch."

Asa lets out an anguished cry that really just resembles the sound of a deflating balloon before he finally seems gather his bearings, judging from the way he runs to me and frantically grips onto either side of my shoulders, shaking me with the same force one would use to shake up a cocktail.

"LYRA! Tell Shane that I'm obviously the sugar plum fairy— he's supposed to be Tinkerbell, but he decided to be tinkerdumbass instead and fucked up!"

Asa looks like he has just been dipped into a punch bowl of bright sparkles and pink glitter (he should've drowned in it.) He continues to shoot his mouth off about how he makes the perfect sugar plum fairy, looking a lot like he's on the verge of tears.

"Couldn't you have chosen easier costumes." I grumble, not wanting to get involved

Asa falls gracefully onto my bed with a hand to his forehead (Nick curses him to the deepest pits of hell when he lands right on top of him), and it sends me down a spiral of regret and horror—

Shane doesn't fair much better in terms of costumes. He has on a checkered pinafore in shades of white and baby blue I have only seen ten year olds, and a chiffon blouse with puffy sleeves. My left eye invariably twitches. I hope there are no epileptic attendees at the party.

"And what the fuck are you supposed to be?"

"Hey, rude dude. I'm Dorothy," Shane pipes up, looking as unabashed as ever. He proudly kicks a foot up onto my bed to show off his pumps, a glaring and obnoxious red, as though to prove a point. When he fluffs up the skirt of his pinafore, I swear I see the ruffled edges of a petticoat from under it.

I grudgingly admit inwardly that the pumps do look good on him.

"I thought Asa was going to dress as the Tinman or some other character from The Wizard of Oz, but—" Shane sighs, and gestures over to the fairy who has taken up residence under my blankets, "Looks like there was a miscommunication on his part."

"You live next to each other, Shane," I hear Nick rumble into my pillow. "How the fuck do you manage to screw up communication when you guys share a garden?"

"Like I said, a miscommunication on his part. We agreed on Wizard of Oz!"

Asa rips the blanket away from his face and looks ready to have a go at Shane again as he opens his mouth to protest, but Nick soon slaps a gloved hand over the offending cavity.

Nick isn't any better off being dressed as Romeo, and he looks fed up to the point that he's ready to pull the sword attached to his belt out and stab it right through Asa's tiny, fairy shriveled heart.

"We're going to that Halloween party down at the gym, and you're coming with." Nick reaches over to rummage through his bag previously strewn precariously across the room, and pulls out a box wrapped in the school's newspaper. "Got you an outfit, Merry fucking Christmas, and you're fucking welcome."

The box is thrown in my general direction and the contents of it spill out in a heaping mess at my feet, but not before hitting me square in the face. I whisper a prayer for the patience to deal with the sorry excuse for friends that I have and bend over to bundle the clothing up in my arms.

"Kiss my ass, Nicholas," I say and disgruntled, Nick latches onto my arm tugging at it and pleading

"Fucking— I hate your Halloween parties, dude, you know that. I'm not going to be your plus-one, go ask Amy instead."

"That's the thing!" Asa shouts from under the blanket. His muffled voice does a terrific job at eating away at my sanity, or whatever's left of it. "Amy is helping out at the party, because they were apparently shorthanded and Bella asked her. Romeo over here just wants to see his Juliet."

It's silent for a moment, before Shane adds, "We suggested he be Paris though, since I'm pretty sure Amy can see more of a Romeo in Lyra."

"They all die anyway," I helpfully say instead in a sing-song voice.

"At least Romeo dies with his feelings reciprocated."

Nick does nothing to deny any of this, and gathers a pillow to take a swing at the pathetic lump hiding under the duvet, sending it doubling over in pain. He casually hops off the bed and plucks a piece of garment from my arms, looking just a little too proud of himself.

"Look, please. It's just leather, and it's black and that's hardly branching out from what your normally wear. And Kathy said she'll do your makeup. And it's actually your size for a change and not that of an obese 50 year old man. Maybe you'll have a real good time." Nick grins not so subtly

"I thought all parties thrown by the nerds serve only apple juice, ban all forms of bodily contact, and have that math teacher with the funky accent chaperoning and all that shit."

Nick lets out an obnoxious honk of laughter. He unfolds the costume and holds the jacket against my shoulders. He clicks his tongue in satisfaction and mutters a praise to himself when he finds it to be the perfect size.

"Their parties do suck, but not when Adam's the new president of the student body," Shane offers as an explanation, prodding an unmoving Asa with a finger.

"And why do I need to be there?"

Nick waves a hand dismissively and looks unimpressed at his companions.

"What's a party with two idiots and no Lyra to be the third?"