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Youtopia, Ch. 3 |
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| Written by Sneh =] | |
| Friday, 11 April 2008 | |
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Share it:      He and Em and I all live within walking distance of each other, but while Em and I are stuck in modest little colonials that scream middle-class, my best bud gets to party it up every day in a fancy-ass mansion with three- count ‘em– three hot tubs, eight bathrooms, and a closet that’s larger than most of the stores at the mall. His mom’s a doctor and his dad’s an engineer, so along with the excessively decked-out pad Morgue has the added benefit of having parents that aren’t around the house much. He’s an only kid, too. If he wasn’t my best friend I’d be leaving flaming bags of **** on his door every day. Checking my reflection in the pond in the front yard, I jog past the wide-open front doors into the living room where Morgue’s chillaxing on the velvet black couch with a bag of chips and a Coke, flipping through his eight bajillion high-def channels on one of the several plasma TVs in the room. Jealous? What, no, of course not. Anyway, I take a seat beside him and he doesn’t even move a muscle when I tell him that Em and I hooked up. “It was bound to happen,” He says with a mouth full of chip crumbs, his eyes glued to the screen. I glance at the TV, curious, and can’t help but groan. “Not another soap, Morgue. Aren’t these a bit too gay, even for you?” He grunts for me to shut up, and I lay back and help myself to some Lays while an emotional brunette woman screams, “I’m pregnant, you jackass!” to a confused-looking man who doesn’t seem to know how to respond. The only part of the scene I find interesting is the strange, half-plaid, half-argyle outfit the woman is wearing but Morgue’s already lost, spit beginning to drool out of his slightly open mouth onto his MCR shirt. I roll my eyes and head into the kitchen to sniff around for something delicious and so not nutritious to munch on. Of course, this is the Berkeley kitchen we’re talking about, so there probably won’t be anything worse than Italian ice. Along with being insanely smart, Morgue’s parents are also health freaks who should be locked away for their crimes against perfectly tasty food. I remember when Morgue turned seven, his parents finally allowed him to blow out the candles on an actual birthday cake– but then took it away to “save it for later”, a.k.a throw it away in the garbage with anything else even remotely edible that comes into their house, as they did every year. Eventually me and some other kids just started throwing parties at our house for him, so he could finally experience the culinary orgasm of piling whip cream on top of ice cream on top of a thick piece of hot fudge cake. Morgue told me he never even had ice cream or cake until he was ten. Yeah, I know...and they think he’s the weird one in the family. I can hear the show drawing to a close in the living room, so I grab some angel cake and head back out. He’s out of his zombie-like trance now, so I know he’ll actually be interested this time when I tell him about Em and I. “Alright, so...yeah. Em and me. We’re dating.” I nod my head and wait for him to say something. He nods back. “Yeah, I know, you just told me.” “I thought you weren’t listening.” “Well I was. That’s why I said, ‘it was bound to happen’. Because it was.” “Oh. Uh, thanks.” “You’re welcome.” We’re still nodding, and this is beginning to feel like a jazz concert...without the trumpet, and the trombone, and the drums, and the...well, you know, like a jazz concert with no music. It’s sort of awkward, to tell you the truth. “So...” I think of something else to talk about but since this has been the only thing on my mind for the past hour, I come up blank. “You...uh, what’s up with you?” He shrugs, taking a sip of soda. “Nothing really. Well, except...yeah, I saw Rob after work and he said that we weren’t really...” He sighs and looks down. “You know, working out.” I’m not exactly a Sherlock Holmes or anything but from the way Morgue’s acting, I’d say he’s a little depressed about it. “Did he say...why?” “Just, you know. The usual. The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap and all that. Also I think he found some...girl. I guess I should be happy he broke up with me first.” I frown and place my hand on his shoulder for support. “If I say I always thought he was a douche, would that help?” He grins. “No, but thanks. Whatever, I should be used to be this by now. I’m always getting dumped for a girl.” “...that sucks.” I can’t exactly relate to being dumped for a girl, but I try. You have to give me at least some props for that. Morgue’s silent for a few moments, but then he suddenly turns so he’s looking straight into my eyes. “So...you and Em.” He seems like he’s having trouble saying what he wants to say. “Um...” He clears his throat and smiles. “How far’ve you gotten with her? All the way?” “Jeez, I just asked her out like an hour ago. We’re taking it one step at a time.” “Good,” He says, “because if you--” “Break her heart, you’ll break me...I know, I know.” We both start laughing. It’s an old thing we’ve been doing for a while with the guys that Em dates– we always interview them and see if they’re treating her right and stuff. And we always add in that our fathers are big members of the Mafia, and if we wanted anyone dead it wouldn’t take more than a snap of our fingers to ensure that it happens. Just to, you know, make ‘em a bit more cautious with her. But now her new beau’s me, and I sure as hell know I’m going to treat her right. “You guys are going to be the cutest couple ever,” Morgue says as we wind down. “There’s no girl better for you than Em.” He smiles again and sort of stares at me for a minute in silence. It’s making me uncomfortable. “Morgue?” He snaps out of it, thankfully, and shakes his head. “Sorry. Anyway...you take care of her, okay?” “I will.” I can’t quite place it, but something’s definitely wrong with this picture. When Morgue and I are in a room together, someone has to duct tape our mouths closed to get us to be quiet, but now the conversation’s slipping in and out of consciousness. Call me crazy, but I have a feeling something’s up. Copyright 2008 Sneh =] |
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| Last Updated ( Friday, 11 April 2008 ) |
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