Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda(9)

Disappointedly yours,

—Jacques

FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: Oct 31 at 8:11 AM

SUBJECT: Re: hollow wieners Jacques,

Sorry to disappoint. I’m not opposed to dressing up, and you make a compelling case for it. I completely see the appeal of being someone else for the evening (or in general). Actually, I was a bit of a one-trick pony myself when I was little. I was always a superhero. I guess I liked to imagine myself having this complicated secret identity. Maybe I still do. Maybe that’s the whole point of these emails.

Anyway, I’m not dressing up this year, because I’m not going out. My mom has some kind of work party, so I’m stuck at home on chocolate duty. I’m sure you understand that there’s nothing sadder than a sixteen-year-old boy home alone on Halloween answering the door in full costume.

Your family sounds interesting. How did you talk your parents into buying you dresses? I bet you were an awesome flapper. Did your parents try to ruin all your costumes by making them weather appropriate? I remember throwing this ridiculous tantrum one year because THE GREEN LANTERN DOES NOT WEAR A TURTLENECK. Though, in retrospect, he actually kind of does. Sorry, Mom!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy your day off from being Jacques. And I hope everyone likes your ninja costume (that has to be it, right? The perfect mix of simple and badass?).

—Blue

FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: Oct 31 at 8:25 AM

SUBJECT: Re: hollow wieners A ninja? Suck a good guess, but no dice.

—Jacques

FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: Oct 31 at 8:26 AM

SUBJECT: Re: hollow wieners Aaaah—autocorrect fail. DICK a good guess.

FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: Oct 31 at 8:28 AM

SUBJECT: Re: hollow wieners GAHHHHH!!!!!

SUCH a good guess. SUCH. Jesus Christ. This is why I never write you from my phone.

Anyway, I’m going to go die of embarrassment now.

—J





5


HONEST TO GOD, THERE IS nothing better than Halloween on a Friday. All day in school, there’s a kind of charged feeling, and it seems to make the work less boring and the teachers funnier. I’ve got felt cat ears duct taped to my hoodie, and a tail pinned to the butt of my jeans, and kids I don’t know are giving me smiles in the hallways. Laughing in a nice way. It’s just an awesome day.

Abby comes home with me, and we’ll walk over to Nick’s later so Leah can pick us all up. Leah’s already seventeen, which makes a difference in Georgia with your license. I can drive one other person at a time besides Nora right now, and that’s the end of the story. My parents aren’t strict about a lot of things, but they’re evil mad dictators when it comes to driving.

Abby collapses to the floor to cuddle with Bieber as soon as we walk into the kitchen. She and Leah may not have much in common, but they’re both obsessed with my dog. And Bieber is now lying pathetically on his back, belly exposed, staring up at Abby dreamily.

Bieber is a golden retriever, and he has these big, brown, kind of manic eyes. Alice was way too pleased with herself when she came up with his name, but I’m not going to lie. It seriously fits.

“So where is this thing?” Abby asks, looking up at me. She and Bieber are intertwined in an eternity embrace, her headband sliding down over her eyes. A lot of people did the toned-down school version of Halloween today—animal ears and masks and things like that. Abby showed up wearing a full-on, head-to-toe Cleopatra costume.

“Garrett’s house? Somewhere off Roswell Road, I think? Nick knows.”

“So it’s going to be mostly soccer people?”

“Probably. I don’t know,” I say.

I mean, I did get a text from Monkey’s Asshole confirming he’d be there. But I don’t feel like bringing him into the conversation.

“Well, whatever. It’ll be fun.” She tries to extract herself from the dog, and her costume rides almost all the way up her thigh. She does have tights on, but really. I guess it’s funny. As far as I know, everyone thinks of me as straight, but already Abby seems to have figured out that she doesn’t have to be self-conscious around me. But maybe that’s just how she is.

“Hey, are you hungry?” she asks. And I realize I’m supposed to have offered her something.

We end up cooking grilled cheese in the toaster oven and bringing it into the living room to eat in front of the TV. Nora is tucked into her corner of the couch reading Macbeth. I guess that’s kind of Halloween-ish. Nora never really goes out. I catch her eyeing our sandwiches, and then she slides off the couch to make one for herself. I mean, if she wanted grilled cheese, she really should have just told me. Our mom gives Nora crap about being more assertive. Though I guess I could have asked if she was hungry. I have a hard time getting into other people’s heads sometimes. It’s probably the worst thing about me.

We watch some random shows on Bravo with Bieber stretched between us on the couch. Nora comes in with her sandwich and goes back to reading. Alice, Nora, and I tend to do our work in front of the TV or with music playing, but we all get good grades, regardless.

“Hey, we better get dressed, right?” Abby says. Abby has an entirely different costume for the party, because by now everyone has seen Cleopatra.