Falls Street (12) “Can you do normal?” I asked. “Normal for who?” she asked. “What’s normal? If you want to look good, just let me do my work. Don’t worry about being normal. I won’t get all weird on you.” “Okay,” I said. “You know, you shouldn’t get all worried about this things,” she said. “She’ll probably just make you look stupid, anyway.” “What are you talking about?” I asked. “I heard about how you have this mega crush on Sarah Highroad,” she said. “And I hate to tell you. She’s out of your league, pal. She’s probably setting something up, too.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you like her, but just be careful. That girl is real pretty. I’d kill to have those eyes, but damn. She’s a stone cold bitch, Jason. I don’t know what you see in her.” “She’s got a nice ass,” I said. “Nice ass,” she said. “What a great, romantic thing to say. Are you going to woo her with that one at the party? You men.” “I’m just being honest here,” I said. “I think she’s pretty fucking hot. That’s about it.” “Wait a minute,” she said. “You’re not in love with this girl are you?” “Where did you hear that?” I asked. “Everyone’s been saying it,” she said. “Jesus, if I know it, then everybody knows it. You kids don’t tell me shit.” “Oh,” I said. “Well?” she asked. “Do you love her or not?” “I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t thought about it.” “Look,” she said. “Don’t be ashamed of it. Really, it’s not a bad thing. It’d probably be better if you didn’t love her, though, because she’s going to break your ass down, boy. She will.” “Can we not talk about love anymore?” I asked. “You guys,” she said. “You’re all alike. You remind me so much of Chris. Do you have any idea what that boy did last night?” “No,” I said. And she went on to talk about it until she was done. She colored my hair reddish orange and put really cool spikes in it. I looked like a catalogue, only messed up, because I wasn’t smiling or holding a can of soda. She told me what to wear and what not, too. We cycled through my shirts, and finally she let me borrow one of Chris’. “You have the worst taste in T-shirts, ever,” she said. “And what about this one… Marilyn Manson? Do you even know who they are?” “It looked kind of neat,” I said. “I hope you weren’t planning on wearing that to school ever,” she said. “Mrs. Bisignano made me turn mine inside out.” “So,” I said. “Do I look all right?” She just stood there smiling for a bit. “Honey,” she said. “The work I did with you… you’re going to make them look stupid.” “Thanks, Renee,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” “No,” she said. “I told you. I hate those spoiled rich kids. But promise me something, all right?” “What?” I asked. “Just go out and have a good time,” she said. “Don’t try to do anything. Don’t even talk to her if she’s being a bitch. ‘Cause you look damn fine, Jason. I’m serious don’t waste it on her, all right?” “I’m not very good with fun,” I said. “Well, try,” she said. “Or else I’ll kick your ass, right after I’m done beating on you little friends. Where is Ray anyway? That little bitch.” “What are you doing tonight?” I asked. “Oh, Chris gets off from work at about ten,” she said. “If you need to call from the party, I’ll be at the house just chillin’ watching some movies with the girls.” “Candice thinks you’re cute, by the way,” she said. “They’re always teasing her about it. She’ll get over it.” “I guess,” I said. And Ray and Crash came back. Crash had been smoking over at his friend’s house. His eyes were all red. We went back to Ray’s house, and he made us stay in the garage so his mother didn’t get a look at Crash. She’s a registered nurse, and he gets all paranoid that she’ll know just like that whether or not he’s high. I think you could smoke up in the living room, and she wouldn’t notice just so long as Ray’s not the one doing it. She’s like that. We waited around, played a little bit of basketball. We were terrible at it. Ray can’t shoot. Crash can’t run. And my pants were just too damn big to do anything in. I had to shoot with one hand and hold them with the other. No one wanted to get all sweaty anyway. It was still pretty light outside for eight o’clock. That’s when we got in the car. Ray’s house was right down the road from Sarah’s. It was a white house with red shutters and an orange speckled roof. It looked great. The yard was cut, the driveway was paved, and the shiny white dog was sleeping in a freshly painted, red and white doghouse with the name “Ralph” on the top in white block letters. “We’re early, yet,” Ray said, and we drove on by. We took a ride for a while into town, and we stopped at a grocery store to get some gum. I was waiting in line while Crash talked to some kids he met outside the place. Ray was trying to decide whether he should buy some soda for the party. “Soda’s kind of wussy,” he said. “But, they might need it as a chaser.” “Right,” I said. “But, we didn’t bring a bottle of anything.” “Yeah, we did, actually,” he said. “Crash swiped a bottle from his old man.” “Shit,” I said. “He won’t miss it,” Ray said. “Crash’s mom is trying to get the old guy to cut back anyway.” “He’ll be pissed off, though,” I said. “He’s probably going to beat the shit out of him.” “Do you think so?” Ray asked. “No,” I said. “Not really. If he just drank it in his room. That’s one thing, but he’s going to a party, right? Probably looking to get chicks, and his father will probably be glad to hear that, anyway.” “Yeah,” he said. “He’s a dirty old man. Nearly had himself a heart attack, Crash says.” “What happened?” I asked. “He was drinking and he fell down or something,” Ray said. “No one’s supposed to talk about it, but they all know. It’s no big deal. Crash thinks it’s pretty hilarious, too.” “Yeah,” I said, and that’s about when Charlie came in to buy a pack of cigarettes. I wanted to say something, but I just stood there pretending I didn’t see him. Then, Ray turned around to look at him. “How’s it going,” he said. “What’s up,” Charlie said. That was it. I bought my gum. Ray bought his soda. I watched Charlie at the counter as we pulled away. I don’t know why I didn’t want to say anything or why he wouldn’t say anything to me, but after that, I didn’t feel much like going to the party. I kind of felt like shooting myself. I thought about Renee and realized it would be a shame to feel that way and waste all the effort she put in. And I guess that must be why people put so much effort into things. The things themselves aren’t really that important, it’s what you put into the whole thing that keeps you going. It’s a weird basic notion that even the losers feel. Nobody wants to waste himself. We’ll waste time like there’s an infinite supply, but no one wants to do anything that would get him nowhere. Even counterproductive people are going in a direction. If you force any kind of effort, that weird human spirit drags you the rest of the way. Fun was pretty much a mandate. I was feeling kind of sick, like I just woke up in the afternoon and sunlight is hurting my head. “I’ve got a headache,” I said. “Well, have a drink when we get there,” Ray said. “All right,” I said. “I’ll be fine.” “Good,” Crash said. “If you’re going to go to a party looking like a rock star, you better drink like one.” “We’ll see,” I said. “I’ve got to keep a level head, you know.” “Right,” Ray said. “Keep a look out for Tommy, okay?”
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