The Trouble With Double Bubble

chapter uno.

"Hey, idiot. Wake up, I'm here. Jesus, it smells like shit in here! Get some fuggin' Febreze before you call me over. Jesus motherfuggin' Christ."

Floor's cluttered with tissues. Head hurts. Tired as hell. The last thing I need is this fatass trampling through my stuff. Marcus rambles through the tissues to my bed, where I am huddled in a fort of sadness.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Maybe if I close them tight enough, it'll all go away...

"Hey, dipshit." I guess not. Marcus pinches my eyes open. "Wake up, and get your lazy little ass out of bed. You've got to do something with your summer, you're out of high school, you're single, good looking-"

"I can't have a good summer without her." I tug my covers over my head. Just the thought of her, her perfect face, her hair...

"You fucking idiot! Forget her!" He rips the covers off of me. All I want to do is sleep and cry and watch those damn movies over and over again.

His face is inches from mine. His mouth releases morning breath into my face as he screams at me-

"She was a bitch! Ez, I didn't tell you when you were with her because you woulda killed me, but she was a slut and at least you know that now."

"No," I whine.

"Say she's a slut!"

"You asshole, get out of my room."

Sometimes, I'll have a dream that we're still together. That she's still smiling at me, tightening her grip on my hand.

"Get over her," I hear Marcus rooting around. "What the hell are these?"

I look at what he's holding. The DVDs. Her DVDs.

"Those were our movies. We watched them on movie nights," I squeeze my eyes shut. I hear him smash something, and look at the floor. He's crushed one of the cases. "You idiot! That's all I have left of her!"

"That and the fact that she banged the biggest dick in school! Get out of your bed before-" he looks at the DVD in his hand, "before Marley & Me is crushed."

I shake my head. I'm not getting up. I'll buy a new one.

"I didn't even call you over."

"You called me over by not calling me for, like, a week. What kind of best friend would I be to just ignore that? What if you tried to kill yourself? Even worse, what if you got back with Shelby?"

"Nice to know those things are somehow connected."

"Stop. Get out of bed, now, before I tell your mom-"

"I'm up. I'm up."

I pull on some shorts over my boxers, and toss on my Ich bin ein Berliner! shirt. Not only does it have JFK eating a jelly donut, which is a major plus, but Shelby hated it and I guess it's getting back at her, in some way.

"I'm crushing it anyways. They killed the poor fuggin' dog."

I will forget her. By the end of the summer, she will be gone.

Pizza after laser tag is necessary. Marcus says he's burned off "the state of Virginia" and he needs at least half of it back.

While we're waiting for the pizza, Marcus grabs one of those crappy village newspapers.

"What do you need one of those for?"

"Just in case there are any new-" He wiggles his eyebrows. "Lady services."

"That's nasty. I doubt they would advertise that in some newspaper."

"Obviously you haven't read this newspaper before." I wince. Obviously I don't want to.

"Look at this."

He lays down the paper in front of me, his sausage of a finger pointing at an advertisement.

Looking for a radio show co-host! Must be able to talk, and have good music taste. If interested, message me on tumblr: maysieday.tumblr.com.

"What about it?"

"That sounds like fun. That's the key to having an a plus summer. She's probably super hot, too, so-"

"I'm not signing up for some shitty radio show, Marcus. Keep dreaming."

"Maybe you could even forget Shelby."

And now I'm having second thoughts. Do I want to forget her? I had some good times with her. Maybe if I called her back.

"Fine, I'll just sign you up."

The guy at the counter calls our number, and I get up to grab our pizza.

When I sit back down, Marcus doesn't even bother to grab a slice of pizza. He's too busy tapping away at his phone.

"Marcus. Pizza."

"I'm submitting your application."

"No, Christ, stoppit."

"So far I have- 'Just like those lonely socks you find at the bottom of the dryer, I'm clean, single, and looking for a mate!'"

I'm out of my seat, reaching for his phone.

"You idiot, stop. She's just looking for a radio co-host. Not a boyfriend."

He scoots himself back, so I'm unable to reach it.

"'Also, I'm interested in your radio show. Call me at-' shit, bro, what's your number?"

"Eight six seven five three oh nine." I know he won't get it. He freezes and gives me the what-the-hell-dude-you're-shitting-me look.

"Is that some song? Did you just give me a random song as your phone number?" He closes his eyes, does one of those closed eye rolling things that I can't really do. "You're perfect for this radio show thing. I'm going to my contacts to get your number."

"Fine, I'll send in my application. Delete weird that sweaty sock one."

I send in something stupid just to please him. I'll probably quit after the first go. Then again, I've forgotten Shelby throughout this conversation. Maybe that's a sign.

"Dude, that sock pickup line was good." Marcus rattles through his marinara filled mouth. "Maybe you should use that."