The Big One

Chapter 8- LaLaLand

"Maybe something a little more adventurous?" Anderson asked. He held up a pack of boxer briefs made of this white, super thin, see-through material.

"No! I like regular boxers." I shook my head. 

"I love these teen boy stores." Kellan scoped out two skater guys who were looking at shoes.

"I don't really dress like this. I don't skate or surf... and I like boxers. I need room," I told them.

For some reason, they all insisted on following me into stores to find new clothes. All of my things were still in my dorm room on the shut down campus. Anderson and his friends were using this as an excuse to give me a makeover.

"You're going to LA. They dress like this down there. It's warmer than the Bay. You could use more athletic underwear too... for your workouts and stuff." Anderson put his hand on my shoulder.

"Ok, but just a few things... and I'll pay you back. Really guys. I wear jeans, shorts, and shirts from Target. I don't do fashion. It's not me." I explained. The only one paying attention to me though was Anderson. He was concerned about my nuts.

"These red Vans are a must! You will look so cute in these," Kyle said. He held up a pair of red skater shoes with the gum colored soles.

"Grab them! Size 11, and some socks that will work with them... oh and the white vans too," Anderson said. He'd ignored my low spending plea. 

"Can you try these on, Ezra? Please, sweetie? You need clothes." He pushed a clutch of shirts and pants towards me then followed me back towards the changing rooms.

I gave in and spent about 30 minutes playing their model. Their favorite was a tight black tank top with a red flannel shirt and tight jeans. Anderson wouldn't even let me look when he went to pay for things. He did it when I was putting my regular clothes back on in the changing room. 

We spent a little longer looking at stores for things they wanted, and then got back on the road towards LA.

Our cells started working just past Hollister. Everyone's phones started to light up like crazy, and Anderson pulled off into a gas station that was stuffed with drivers paused in similar shock with their phones. The world came rushing back and I immediately called my family.

My mom didn't answer. I looked at my watch and realized she was probably at her book club, code for wine time with her friends. I sent her and dad a text to say I was ok and heading to LA with friends.

My dad called me a few minutes after that. He just wanted to know I was alive and happy. Dad's the easy one. I could tell him I was running away to Los Angeles with an older guy I was sleeping with, and he would have said, "Oh that's nice." Dad was the easy one.

"Does he want to talk to me?" Anderson asked when I was on the phone with my dad. "Here, give me the phone."

I don't know why, but I passed him my cell. Anderson immediately charmed him, told him I was being fed and taken care of, the whole spiel. It was way more info than dad wanted, and Anderson even insisted he write down his phone number and information.

"I assure you, he is completely safe, Mr. Ryan. If you can't get him on the phone, call mine and I promise I'll get him. The poor kid was so scared. His campus is shut down." He called my dad by a proper name to show respect.

Everyone always called my dad Eddie. It sounded weird to hear him addressed so formally. I guess he'd seen my last name when he snooped on my license.

"Well he seems very nice. I'm pretty sure he's gay and definitely he's into you," Dad said when I got the phone back. He seemed amused by my situation. "You be careful, kid. Your mama made pretty boys, and we sent you off to San Francisco." He laughed.