It's Not Just Us

Holy Shit

Brody has been staying with me. He doesn’t want to get sucked into all of the shit between his parents, so I told him he could crash at my house. Today, Simon wanted to take me out to the mall. I don’t know what he has planned, ut I hope its good. Actually, anything is better than being stuck in the house all day. I throw on a jean jacket over my blue T-shirt and throw on the new black beanie Brody got me. I make my way downstairs and squirm my way passed Shayna and Newt, who have made this huge track of trains through the living room. Sean is making bowls of cereal for everyone and placing cups of orange juice next to the bowls.

“Sorry, Sean,” I say. “I’m not hungry. Besides, I’m going to the mall, I’ll probably just get some food there.”

“Okay, make sure you take your knife,” Sean says.

“Always!’ I yell, as I walk out the door. I grab my to-go bag and hop on my bike. The wind blows through my hair as I ride to Simon’s house. I pull up and see Simon’s little sister, Sarah, playing with her dolls in the mud beside the road.

“Sarah, no,” I say. “Out of the road.” I pick Sarah up and bring her inside the fence around Simon’s yard. I trip over a rock as I walk up the steps on the front porch, and pound on the door. I can hear Simon and his mom yelling at each other inside. Simon opens the door.

“Shut up! I’m leaving!” He yells, slamming the door behind him.

“You guys good?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Simon says. “She’s just being annoying.”

“Sarah was playing in the road,” I say. “You should get her inside.”

“No, she’s fine.”

“What are we doing?”

“Walking to our bikes.”

“I meant, at the mall.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises, Simon. You know that.”

“You’ll like this one.”

We hop on our bikes and ride down the lock to the mall. The trees move in the blowing wind as we hop off our bikes.

“We gonna hot-wire a car?” I ask excitedly.

“Nope.”

“Then, what?”

“We’re gonna get a tattoo.”
He continues to walk after I stop. A tattoo? Hell, yeah! I catch up to him and skip in glee.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask. “Arm tattoo? Leg? We could get lions as a symbol of our strength.”

“I’m getting a knife right in between my nips,” Simon says. “From my collar bone down to the to of my first pec.”

“Okay, ‘pec’ is a gay thing to say, but other than that, I love it. I’ll get one, too.”

“Where?”

“Between my boobs. Ooh, will there be blood on the knife?”

“Sure.”

“Yes!”

We walk inside into the cool A.C. that gives me goosebumps that go away quickly. There are people laughing and eating pizza in the food court. A little boy is running around and his mom is trying to get him to calm down. There’s some old music playing on the speakers. Some of the popular girls from my school are drinking slushies and taking selfies. Even though I’m wearing shoes, I can tell the floor is quite sticky. Then it hits me. I didn’t bring money.