Electric Moonlight Shuffle

PROLOGUE

Jamie was Simba, and I was pissed.

They cast me as Nala, but I wanted to be Scar.

It was our preschool's rendition of The Lion King, and everything about it was the worst, except that's how me and Jamie became best friends.

The best-friends part was cool.

***

I think the exact moment we became best friends was in our 'Big Love Scene.'

We were supposed to briefly hug while all the other little lions around us swayed and sang "Can You Feel the Love Tonight." That's how we practiced. That's what everyone expected.

On The Big Night, in The Big Love Scene, I changed it. In the spotlight, I threw my arms around Jamie's shoulders and kissed his cheek. He blushed like a firetruck and looked down at his paws.

The audience aww'ed and clapped.

Success.

***

After the show, in the parking lot at twilight with our parents, Jamie gave me a necklace of dandelions he braided together, looked at me starry-eyed, asked me to marry him.

I told him: "Cool it, Simba, it was just a kiss. Lions don't get married."

My mom—she was still around then—got a kick out of that.

***

Anyways, I ate the necklace, but at the 'after-party' (the whole cast went for ice cream) I set Jamie up with my friend Caroline Treehorn, who'd played a plane tree in the background. Every day for a week, Jamie brought Caroline seeds from different flowers so she could make herself a magical garden. Then Caroline got sick of it, and broke his heart.

That's when me and Jamie started what would become a 12-year habit: spending every waking moment together and talking about everything but mostly love.

***

At lunch I gave Jamie updates about Caroline and he gave me gifts from his friends, who were in love with me but too shy to talk to me me, including:

a vintage Amazing Spiderman tin lunchbox from Joe Franco,

a 96-Pack of crayons from Anthony Goldstein with a note that said a ranbow for a ranbow girl!!

a ball of pink yarn Danny Brown stole from the Arts & Crafts drawer to "keep me safe from the minotaurs."

None of the boys really sparked my interest, though I took their gifts, and sometimes kissed their hands in carline when Jamie was off trying to win other girls' hearts and I was bored and waiting for my dad to show up.

The rest is history.

***

Things stayed pretty much the same for the next 12 years,

except instead of The Lion King

it was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

West-Side Story,

Oedipus Rex,

A Long Day's Journey into Night.

Instead of Jamie's wooing Caroline Treehorn with flowerseeds,

it was Anna Gould with a pipe-cleaner zoo,

Florence Friday with a moonlight serenade of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand",

Genie Harris with a bottle of champagne Jamie stole from his mom,

Jasmine Evers with a roadtrip to the Jersey Shore.

Instead of my hand-kisses in the carline,

it was make-outs with 'emo boys' at the bowling alley,

boob-squeezes from jocks at the drive-in,

blowjobs for bad-boys at bonfires in the woods,

sex in preppy boys' rooftop hot tubs.

Now me and Jamie are juniors in high school. We're still best friends, still cool, still the center of attention.

***

We've basically lived together since forever.

At Jamie's house, we have everything: a pool, a hot-tub, tennis courts, a movie theatre, a garden, a private beach, a yacht, a bowling alley. Literally everything, including (unfortunately) adult supervision.

At my house, we have nothing. We virtually always have the place to ourselves, so we can drink and smoke as much as we want. Completely sturmfrei. Sure it's way smaller (the main attractions include a couch and a tv) but it's basically ours.

Plus.

Jamie only has a mom, and my mom peaced out when I was 7, so between the two of us, we have one makeshift, sitcom-ready family.

So it all works out. (Well, kind of. Like I said, my dad's never around. And Jamie's mom has been heartbroken since forever, so even though she's around constantly, it usually feels like she's somewhere else. But every dysfunctional family is unhappy in its own special-snowflake way, right? Just like Tolstoy says.)

***

Anyways, the last thing to know about me and Jamie is we've got rules.

THE "ONE BEST-FRIEND TO RULE THEM ALL" COMMANDMENTS

1. Love Thy Best Friend

2. Don't Talk Shit Behind Thine Best Friend's Back

3. Brunch on Sundays

4. Don't Gossip About Our Moms to Paparazzi

5. Pause All Fights After 15 Minutes for A Fruit-Snack Break Before Resuming Conflict

6. Coordinate All Takeout Orders for Sharing

7. Be A Good Wing(wo)man

8. Tell Thy Best Friend All Important Shit

9. Listen to Thy Best Friend's Vent Sessions

10. Tell Thy Best Friend When They're Being A Whiny Little Bitch (In The Lovingest Way)

11. Don't Put Bros/Hoes Before Thy Best Friend

AND—THE BIG TWO:

12. Thou Shalt Not Date Thy Best Friend

13. Thou Shalt Be There When Thy Best Friend Needs It

***

So there you have it.

With the exception of our first encounter, nothing remotely romantic or sexual has ever gone down between me and Jamie.

I've never thought about him that way.

Well, okay.

There was this one time.

A month ago, when it was still summer.

I was jogging on the path through the park, and a saw a shag-haired boy on the path ahead of me. My heart did a somersault. Not like how it is when I usually see a cute boy, with my heart pounding and the 'ooh, I wanna tap that man ass' thought. This was weird: like my breath got sucked out of my body and I felt red and hot all over. I was embarrassed and shy. (I'm hardly ever shy! I love to talk to boys—that's my shit!) So there I was freaking out, literally tripping over my own electric-pink Nikes, and then the boy walked closer and I realized it was Jamie and WHAT THE FUCK. Crazy right?!

Anyways, it was a totally fluke thing. I didn't tell Jamie about it—I know, I know, it's a rule—but why freak him out about something that means nothing?

Plus it's been exactly one month and exactly nothing changed.

Nothing happened.

Nothing weird is going on between me and Jamie Verona.

It can't be.