INTERLUDE

- 5 -

October 31st 1987
Halloween

Allen Miller's house smelled like beer and cigarettes on Halloween. His place had been redecorated, paper pumpkins hung from the white walls in an attempt to a festive atmosphere. Arden, Cherry and I were sitting on an isolated couch, hidden from most people's view, and drinking anything and everything we could find. So far it consisted of beer, rhum, and a strange mix of white wine, orange juice and gin. Arden, as usual, chain-smoked nervously, out of habit, and, in an out of character manner, Jude didn't have his camera with him. Surprisingly enough, Halloween night was the warmest autumn night we'd had yet. Outside, the wind blew through the leaves and left trees bare and ready for winter.

Miller was quite a guy, more manly than when I'd met him. His hair grew thick and curly and covered the widow's peak he'd alwayd hated. He wore thick rimmed tortoiseshell glasses, classy even. Costumes weren't obligatory and so he wore a suit, a dark purple velvet suit. I thought it was too much but most of the party crowd applauded his "masterful style choice". Then again I hated his guts so, maybe I was biased when it came to judging his style. He approached our corner with a martini in hand, as if he only ever drank martinis, and a smirk on his face, carefully planning the mundane conversation we would have in just an instant. And it came soon enough because just three seconds later he was in front of us and talking.

"You three are wonderful company!" He half-shouted at us.

None of us had any significant response. Arden blew a cloud of thick smoke in his face, Jude took a swig of the orange juice concotion and I simply looked up. Miller eyed me, then Jude, and possibly determined it was a little early in the evening to start a fight because all he did was leave, clearly not appreciating our lack of halloween-y spirit.

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October 31st 1983

There goes, the same house I've been in a thousand times. I don't knock anymore, they all know me. Mr. Miller even calls me son and I call him sir. Anything is better than my father. Today's not about that though; today's about the best goddamn party in my pathetic life. The first Halloween party hosted by Allen Miller.

All I do is drink all night and hog the joint for a little too long when it gets to me. They all know it and try to get it past me before I can finish it but it's of no use; the joint and me, we're like magnets. Eventually we run out of beer and I'm the only one who know it's in the basement so I run down the stairs, ready to grab a six pack and run but I don't. Instead I stay still on the last step as my eyes fill with tears and my heart pours itself out. My two lifelong best friends are on the couch, making out, not hearing me. Not seeing me, they never fucking did, did they?

"Allen where's the liquor?" I say as I bite back tears.

He looks at me, then back at Nicolas who just lays there. Fucking clueless as always.

"You know what? Forget it. I just, thought we were all friends you know?"

And then I storm out, wrongfully wishing I could have been the one kissing Nicolas tonight. Wrongfully wishing Allen Miller didn't exist.

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For a long time after him, I thought kissing was the most overrated thing. I mean: big deal, you exchange saliva and flop your tongue around with someone else's. That sounded disgusting at best, mostly because I couldn't bring myself to like anybody else. Right now it felt good though. Hidden away in Allen Miller's basement with Jude's hand on my chest? It felt smooth. Like a hot knife cutting through butter, like a sip of Arden's vodka. It made me feel all that I had felt with him but in such a weird, Cherry way.

Of couse that was before Allen walked in. We didn't hear him at first, too infatuated with each other's lips to notice I guess. But then we heard him, clear and loud.

"Alright you fruits, get the fuck out of my house"

As I said, hard to miss.

"What the fuck did you say Allen?" I said, getting off the sofa and walking towards him.

"I said, get your gay asses out of here!"

I held back a laugh as I continued to approach him.

"What would Nicolas think of that Allen?"

He froze and then screamed "Don't you fucking dare bring him up, you fruit!"

I guess I threw the first punch. I hit his cheekbone but, shame, I didnt break it. He fought back, punching all he could. I had the upper hand though. He hit my nose, then my cheek. My nose bled, my cheek swelled up. At least I broke his glasses.

Jude and I walked in silence that night. He didn't ask about Nicolas, I didn't talk about Nicolas. He just held me and gave me a bag of frozen peas for my cheek. I hurt like hell inside and out but he made it okay. He made it bearable, no matter how cheesy it sounds. He didn't ask questions and he helped.

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Not asking question's hard for Arden though. She called an 'emergency meeting' at the pit which sounded totally ridiculous and she had questions. Just so many of them.

"Who's Nicolas" was the first one. It was a bitch of a question to answer.

"My old friend, or boyfriend, or just- can we skip that one. He was a lot okay."

Jude rolled his eyes and turned away. "Yeah I bet he was" he scoffed without any eye contact whatsoever.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said, turning to face him.

"Two days ago that dude didn't even exist and now he's what, the long lost love of your life? What does that make me? Your daily fix while you're in college? Because you clearly still like him."

"No I don't"

"You can't even get out a full sentence about him!"

I felt the emotion rise. Like a pot about to boil over. I felt it climb my ribs and up into my trachea. Just get the words out Theo. Just let them out.

"Because he's dead, asshole." It came out as a murmur. I couldn't bring myself to yell it for the dramatic effect it should have provided. Life's not about dramatic effect, it's about tragic unnecessary storylines.

"What was that freshman?"

"He's fucking dead okay! I was in love with him when he died and that never truly went away because the guy is dead Jude."

I hate how death makes people silent. Everyone always tiptoes around it as if it's not the most universal of things. We'll all do it someday. But mention a dead person to a room full of people, and suddenly their vocal chords can't vibrate anymore. Like it's this taboo subject. All I wanted to do when he died was to talk about him. To tell people how much I loved him. Everybody put on their sympathy face and listened to my story about poor dead Nicolas out of pity. And then I moved on because that's what I had to do. It left a scar bigger than the one on my cheek though. A deep, never ending scar.

They still didn't understand, Jude and Arden. They didn't get why I beat up  Allen or why I even mentionned Nicolas. They didn't know but they got off my back for a second because death knows how to tear people apart like that. Trust me.

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Wow it's been so long!! This chapter was weird to write honestly and I mostly did it while high on flu medication because I'm sick so maybe it won't be like this at all when I edit this. Anyway, let me know whatyou though as usual! ((word count: 1301))