2. Little Kid/Grownup

Richie properly meets the girl from the party.

This is back in my elementary school days. I’m in the passenger seat of my Uncle T’s car, staring out the window at a town that seems like a whole new world. My uncle notice’s my silence.

“Aren’t you excited?” he asks, his eyes taking a break from the road to look over to my seat.

“What should I be excited for?” I ask, snidely but honestly.

“You’re going to a new school. Isn’t that something?”

“I don’t see what was wrong with the old one.”

Uncle T just sighs. The city outside becomes less of a place and more of a distant blur, and looking out at it brings me a sadness I can’t describe. My eyes drift to the car’s glove compartment.

“Just give it a chance, Richie,” my uncle says. “You might like your teacher. You might make some friends.”

“But what if I don’t?” I protest.

“But what if you do?”

I don’t have an answer, and mostly I don’t want to consider the possibility.

“I don’t know why I need a new school,” I continue. “I’m not staying in this town for long, am I? Only until my dad picks me up. I’ll be gone any day now.”

The traffic light ahead of us turns red and the car slows to a halt. Taking an even deeper sigh, my uncle’s hands leave the wheel and momentarily bury his face.

“Richie…”

September, Senior Year

“Your mother!” Travis hollered over the blaring of another car’s horn. Theo rolled ignored him and continue making his left. I turned the stereo system’s volume up higher, filling Theo’s beamer with a bombastic trap beat that drowned out the rest of the world. I took a sip of my soda, from the fast food we’d picked up and watched through my window as the city blurred by.

We had no specific destination, as per usual with our routine adventures, all we knew was that we’d rather be here than stuck watching our school’s dumb pep rally, so away we rolled.

Theo slowed the car to a halt as we approached a red light. A silver, equally expensive-looking sports car pulled up left of us. Oh no, not again. The vehicle’s window slid down, revealing a whip full of frat guys laughing and being obnoxious. Two of them were wearing sunglasses, because there’s totally a reason to wear them in a car. The one behind the wheel looked over to our car and met eyes with Theo and revved his engine, his face adapted an expression that tried to be intimidating but came off sexual.

“You gonna race them?” Travis asked, his eagerness showing through his voice.

“Hopefully not,” I chimed in. “I mean, I do value my life a little.”

Theo rolled his eyes and leaned to the side of his seat.

“Everyone wants to race,” he answered dryly. “I’m not paying these clowns no mind.”

My friend Theo, always rational and mature.

“You won’t do it,” Travis called. “No balls.”

Theo looked over to me with vulnerable eyes.

“Theo, come on.” I tried to reason with him, hoping his masculine image wasn’t that fragile and demanding. He shrugged.

“I mean, I can’t not do it now.”

He revved his engine back, and all the frat guys got giddy with excitement. It was like a car full of Grant Peterses. I put my drink down in the cupholder and grabbed the handle above me for dear life, as the light changed to green and I was flattened against Theo’s leather seats.

The frat guys’ expressions quickly changed to frustration and embarrassment as we left them in the dust by the next light.

I pushed my heart back down my throat and let go of the handle as Theo decelerated to the speed limit again, weaving between cars.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Theo laughed. Travis dapped him up from the backseat. Just then I happened to glance up at the rear view mirror and not five seconds later I saw the multi-colored flashing of police headlights.

“How about now?” I shot at Theo. He didn’t reply, he just bit his tongue in a salty frown. He pulled over at the side  of a mini mart and the cop car stopped behind him.

“Yo, Travis,” Theo called as soon as the car was in park. “Code Green, Maneuver B.”

“Got it!” Travis replied, taking off his seatbelt. I passed him one of the many bottles of water Theo kept lying around in his car, being an athlete and all. Without haste, Travis opened the bottle and quickly squeezed out all the water onto his head, drenching his face as he lay on his back. By the time the balding cop with awkward facial hair got out of his car and walked over to ours, Trav was in full on seizure mode, shaking around and making guttural moaning sounds.

Officer Pornstache leaned over before Theo’s window. Theo, a look of fear and concern plastered on his face, lowered the window.

“Was I speeding?” he said frantically, before the cop got a chance to say anything. “I’m sorry, officer I didn’t realize. We’re in the middle of an emergency!”

He pointed to the backseat. Guess it’s time to jump in, Oscars here I come.

“We need to get our friend to the hospital!” I said, making my voice sound as innocent and whiny as possible. The cop looked back at Travis reenacting The Exorcist and nearly jumped back.

“Jesus Christ!” he called out. I continued,

“We couldn’t find his epilepsy medicine and… Oh God, Theo! The shoe fell out of his mouth, put another one in before he bites his tongue off.”

Theo turned to Officer P, holding out his wallet and registration card.

“Here’s my license and information if you need it.”

“No,” the scared, concerned cop replied. “Just go! Hurry!”

“Bless your heart, sir.” Theo replied warmly, before putting his wallet down and taking off again. Once we were a good distance and a couple turns away, he slowed down again. Travis sat upright and used his shirt to towel his face.

“Haven’t lost a beat!” he said proudly.

“Let’s just hurry back to the school,” I insisted. “The rally’s probably about to be over, people are gonna notice we’re gone.”

“Chill, Rich,” Theo assured, his suaveness back in effect. “If they haven’t called anyone about us yet, we’re good.”

“Try not to get pulled over on the way back.” I snidely retorted.

By the time we pulled up in the school’s parking lot again, the rally was closed and kids were returning to their regularly scheduled programming. We snuck in through a window into the science lab nobody ever locked, which Travis had been using to get in and out since freshman year and apparently never got caught. We climbed in and made our way to the door, prepared to join the mild stampede of post-rally students. As soon as we stepped out into the hall, however, a loud, demanding voice froze us in our tracks.

“Football captain,” called Mr. Strauss, Vice Principal and part-time Satan worshipper, I assume. “What’s going on boys?”

It’s not like he has a name or anything. Why is Theo always the one people identify our collective group by anyway?

“Just headed to our next class.” Theo answered smoothly.

“Where are you three coming from?”

“Uh, the science lab?”

“That’s odd seeing as there’s no classes scheduled here for this month. Are you sure you aren’t coming back from running around playing hooky?”

“They were in the science lab.” a stern, vaguely familiar voice asserted from behind us. I couldn’t place it right away, all I knew it belonged to a girl, one I’d met recently. Her tone was dry and blunt right away. We all turned, and I was surprised to see Ms. Glasses-and-Ponytail standing there, although now her hair was let down, freely into curls over her shoulders. Those same unimpressed eyes stared directly at Mr. Strauss through those clunky glasses.

“They were, now?” Strauss entertained.

“Yes,” the girl affirmed. “We were. The new aprons came in, and we were told to drop them off by our science teacher.”

The guys and I remained quiet. Strauss drew in closer.

“Right…” his eyes narrowed on this girl. “And if I ask the science teacher he’ll tell me the same?”

“Knock yourself out,” the girl replied fearlessly, without missing a beat. “You know Professor Wentsworth, right?”

Strauss raised his brow, seemingly convinced, or at least satisfied enough.

“We’ll see,” he said, in a slightly less malicious but still pretty malicious tone. “As for now, you boys had better get to class.”

Theo, Travis and I instantly scattered without offering so much as a ‘yes sir’. Strauss slithered back into the shadows, but I heard Ms. Glasses’ voice call out to me.

“Running away from me again?”

I turned around to see her waiting there, hand on hip with her head tilted at an angle that said she was unamused. I shrugged and walked back to her, the coast being clear now that the demon spawn had vanished.

“You know,” I said, my first ever time actually speaking to this girl. “What happens if Strauss goes and asks that science teacher?”

“Wentsworth’ll cover for me,” she answered with a shrug. “He’s cool. Plus he owes me.”

Her tone of voice was so passive, so void of concern.

“Any particular reason you did that?” I asked, trying to get a grasp of this chick’s motivations.

“You’re welcome,” she shot. “And I owed you one, didn’t I?”

She gave me a vague half-smile and raised her brow.

“Look at you,” she continued. “You rescue an innocent woman with your muscles then disappear into the night before she can thank you. What are you, a superhero?”

“Only on weekends,” I replied. “Especially when basketball players act like dickheads at parties.”

She gave a slight grin. “Well, thanks, nonetheless Superboy.”

“Superboy?” I repeated. “Why not Superman?”

“Let’s not get full of ourselves. Do you have a secret identity, Superboy?”

“Richie Harris. And you?”

“Carrie.”

She reached out her hand. I was caught a little off guard by the old-fashioned gesture, but I shook it.

“In any case, Superboy,” she went on. “It’s nice to formally meet, maybe we’ll see each other around more often. And hey, next time you ditch school, try not to get caught.”

And with that, she was off, giving me another vain half-smile and walking away to carry on whatever mysterious adventures her life consisted of. I shrugged, and prepared to head out to my next class as well, when suddenly a vibration pulsated in my pocket, accompanied by the sound of a record scratch. I reached in to pull out my phone, checking the text I just got.

It didn’t come from anyone with a contact name, just an unsaved number. That didn’t stop me from knowing exactly who it was, though. It wasn’t a long message, just: ‘I miss you.’