Day Three

“Look, our families are kind of close right? And you and Samantha have been friends to some extent for a long time. I just don’t want to see you throw that all away. Most relationships are destined to fail. I’m not saying that’s the case with you and Sam, but the odds are against you. Besides, you got enough on your plate as is without trying to add dating into the mix. Just do me a favor and don’t do anything to sudden or too rash, okay?”
“Okay, Dad. Are we eating dinner together tonight?”
“I don’t think so, looks like another exciting night of YOYO, you’re on your own!”
“Okay, I have some work to get done. I’ll be done later for a sandwich or something,” I said.
“Keep your chin up kiddo, life will get better. I promise! Who knows I might even torment you a little less,” he said reaching out and messing up my hair again.
I slid my feet to the floor and unpacked my book bag. The thing was big enough for a small Vietnamese family to live in comfortably. I didn’t understand why they made every book eight inches thick and a minimum of five pounds.
There was a narrow walkway between my bed and my desk, which the bag blocked if I didn’t put it against the far wall where my mirror was hung.
Of course the narrow path was nearly always filled with clothes in varying degrees of cleanliness. Dad had tried to make me keep an inspection ready room, but Grandma Knave ruined that plan. She had pictures of his bedroom when he was my age, and it was far worse than mine ever got.
I flipped through my assignments and stared blankly at a project prompt for history class. I debated just picking the independent option. There were pros and cons to each option, but in the end I caved and decided that at least a partner would make doing the assignment a bit better than working on it myself.
I grabbed my phone and sent Vincent a quick text. Vincent Moretti was as Italian as I was Irish. Perpetual tan and the start of a six-pack that I envied, not enough to follow the workout regimen that he kept, but I envied it just the same. We had been friends forever due to proximity during elementary school. When middle school rolled around, we realized that we did actually like each other. Now that that we had started high school, time would tell, but it did look like we’d be friends until graduation.
To vincent: got a partner 4 his prjct?
From vincent: nah, whcha thinking?
To vincent: do it tgthr?
From vincent: K i'll B ovr…
That was step one. Step two would be deciding what to do. I screamed down the steps, “Mom, Dad, Vincent is on his way over to work on a history project. Can we order a pizza?”
“You call, and I’ll go get it,” Mom yelled back, “and your dad can pay. He owes you that much.”
“Cool, thanks!” I dialed the pizza place down the road and got a extra large meat lovers supreme pizza some cheesy bread sticks and a two litter of soda. I wouldn’t have gone all out, but Dad did owe me.
“Thirty to forty minutes,” I yelled down the stairs.
I heard Vincent bounding up the stairs two or three at a time. He burst into the room and threw himself on the bed.
“So did you really almost get arrested?” he asked staring at the ceiling.
“I don’t think it was that close,” I spun around in my chair and faced him.
“I dunno, looking at the video of it, I’d say you were pretty close to the poky.”
“Video?”
He turned his head and looked straight at me, “The joys of cell phone cameras. YouTube and facebook is popping. You just might get enough hits to make it on some stupid criminals or America’s stupid videos or something like that.”
I grabbed my itouch and pulled up my account. Someone from school had tagged me in the video and it already had twenty plus comments. Talk about embarrassing. I opened my laptop to get the whole story. The YouTube page was even worse. People can be so cruel.
Some of the comments were pretty funny, terribly mean, but funny. I certainly didn’t deserve the base interpretations of my intelligence, but it was pretty funny. The more I watched the video the more I could laugh.
“Your dad is a bit of an ass, but damn dude, his abuse of you does make for good entertainment.”
I threw a dictionary at him, “Yeah, well I can have my dad talk to your dad about helping you become a YouTube sensation.”
He threw his hands up in defense, “No thank you. I’m just growing into my stride. Before long I’m gonna have girls knocking on my door and begging for dates.” He was flexing and posing, still lying on the bed. “Speaking of dates, have you asked Samantha out yet?”
“Nope, I don’t know, man. I’m starting to think my dad might be right. He thinks it’s a bad idea. I just don’t know. I mean, let’s face it. I don’t have any money. I can’t drive. Having my mom, or god forbid my dad, pick her up and drive us somewhere seems pretty lame.”
“You gonna owe me,” Vincent said smiling. I didn’t like the idea of owing Vincent. He had that creepy mobster smirk he got when he was hatching a sinister plot. It said that payment would include an interest compounded quarter hourly.
“Spill, what’s up?” I asked.
“You know the old house at the end of the street?”
“Old man Jablonski’s place?”
“Yeah well, turns out Jablonski’s dead.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
“No that’s freakin’ awesome,” Vincent said getting excited.
“Dude, it’s terrible. There’s a special place in hell for people like you,” I said.
“Yeah whatever, you’re going to be in the cabana right next to mine, so shut the hell up.”
“Okay, I’ll play along. You piqued my interest. What does a dead old guy have to do with my dating issues?” I asked curious where Vincent was going.
“Well Old man Jablonski was a widower,” Vincent said nodding his head and pushing his bottom lip out. He was so proud of himself, but I still didn’t get it.
“Sad but again, I’m not seeing where you’re going.”
“He didn’t have any kids,” he said raising his eyebrows.
“Okay so Jablonski was a childless widower,” I said.
Just then my mom knocked and brought in the pizza and bread sticks and soda with a couple cups. “Don’t make a mess,” she said. She turned to leave and then spun back arching her eyebrows, “Did I hear you guys talking about Mr. Jablonski?”
“Yeah, Vincent was just telling me how he had passed away and didn’t have any family. It’s really sad,” I said.
“Yeah,” Vincent said, “tragic.”
“It really is,” mom said looking pensive. She didn’t say anything else, just turned and walked out shaking her head.
Vincent turned and buried his face in my pillow screaming into it. Then he sat up half laughing and dove for the pizza box. He poured me a glass of soda.
“Thanks,” I said too soon. He poured me a glass and then started drinking out of the two liter.
“Damn,” Vincent said folding two pieces of pizza together. “Your mom almost busted us.”
“What are you talking about?” I grabbed a cheesy stick and some marinara sauce.
“The party,” Vincent said shoving more pizza in his mouth.
“What party?” I asked.
“The one you’re going to take Samantha to,” he said. Only it sounded more like, “Ha wa yua goin ake Samanato.”
“What?”
Vincent swallowed way too much at one time and smacked my leg, “The one you’re going to take Samantha too.” He smiled like he had just solved all my problems.
“Oh,” I said, “That makes it as clear as mud.”
“Aiden, you make no sense sometimes.”
“Me,” I said getting excited. “What the hell? You’ve been talking about a dead old guy and now a party. I don’t get it.”
“We’re throwing a party. Don’t worry, I’ll front you your part,” Vincent said obviously proud of himself.
“Good god you’re dense. We’re throwing a party at Old Man Jablonski’s house, and you’re going to take Samantha, and best part is…you ready for this?”
“I’m ready,” I said cocking an eyebrow. I didn’t know how much more bizarre this conversation could get.
“My older bother is getting us a bottle of grain to make jungle juice.” He got up and danced at the foot of the bed singing, “Jungle juice, that juice will make them loose, we’ll be drinking jungle juice.”
“Cut it out freak before we get busted,” I said.
“So you’re in?” Vincent asked, looking hopeful.
“Yeah, I’m game. I mean if you’re going to go,” Vincent joined me as I finished my sentence and together we said, “Go big.”
Vincent put his fist out and I bumped it. Typically I hated the new high five, but he had earned the bump. No doubt that the plan involved many variables any one of which could get us into serious trouble, but if we got away with it. Well if we got away with it, we would be gods!
“Wait,” doubt was rearing its ugly head. “What if—“
He cut me off, “No what ifs. Only what will bes. You’ve got to believe!”
“Dude, I have no money,” I said worried that my shot at glory, my shot at Samantha would crash before take off.
“No worries. I got some money. You got skills. We can work out a trade,” Vincent said winking. Admittedly, I was scared.
“What kind of skills?” I asked.
“You’re getting us in the house,” he said, tapping my leg and shoving an entire cheesy stick in his mouth.
I didn’t want to ask, but I didn’t really have a choice. “How?”
“All in good time,” he said and winked at me. “Let’s take a look at this knight project.”
“You scare me,” I said turning back to my desk pulling out the assignment sheet.
“Why?” Vincent asked and then added in his best godfather voice, “is it because I made you an offer you can’t refuse?”
“Yeah and because you’re pretty much pathological.”
“Don’t use big words like I don’t know what they mean,” he said jerking the assignment sheet from my hands. “I want to do something with the Knights Templar. I can dig the secret society stuff. Option three looks pretty easy,” he said handing the paper back to me.
I looked at the sheet. The third option was a powerpoint. It seemed straightforward enough. “Don’t you think one of the other options might be more fun?” I asked.
“Dude, we have a party to get off the ground by Saturday. I don’t think we have time to go all ape shit crazy on a school project. “
“Bt still,” I said, “I was just saying that maybe one of the other projects would be more fun.”
“Aiden, WTF man? This is school. School is not supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be endured. Look we can slap this together pretty quickly. I like the topic. That’s something,” he said emphatically.
“Right, good point.”
We got to work on a powerpoint outlining the history of the Knights Templar and under Vincent’s direction we spent most of our slides on the myths and lore about the knights rather than the boring history or papal authority.
When Vincent left, we had the project done, even though it wasn’t de until the next week. We also had a plan for how to pull off the party. It would involve some prep work on Friday night so we could pull it off on Saturday. It would take a little bit of effort, but in the end, it would be worth it. What had me more worried than how Vincent planned to get me into the house was asking Samantha if she’d go with me. The other issue, which I didn’t want to worry about just yet, was what I was going to tell my parents so I could escape for the night.