LJ Idol, Season 10 Week 23: Backing the Wrong Horse
The 1967 Chamberlain Anaconda rumbled as it cruised into the driveway. They could hear it from the living room.
“Angel, your date's here!” yelled Nestor.
“I'm not ready!” a voice from the back of the hallway yelled back.
“I'll go help her,” offered Sofia as she rushed to the bedroom.
Somebody rapped jauntily on the door. Nestor opened it to reveal a young Asian man in a tuxedo-however, he swapped out the traditional jacket for a leather one that belonged on a member of a motorcycle gang.
“Eric,” Nestor said with a grin. “Nice tux.”
Eric touched his lapel. “This old thing? I never go anywhere without it. It's like my totem.”
“I get totems, trust me.”
From the back of the house, somebody shrieked, “I can't let him see me like this! I'm hideous!”
Sofia responded with a raised voice, “I did not spend something like $80,000 on a prom dress so you could sit around your room and sulk! You've got a handsome boy with a nice car waiting for you! Go!”
Sofia returned to the living room and stood beside her husband. “I handled it like a mom. Hi, Eric.”
“You handled that like a commandant, dear,” Nestor observed.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
The young woman who cautiously peeked her head out of the hallway did not look like Rafaela Torres. Sure the black hair with streaks of silver were there, but it was restrained with clips and bobby pins so that only a few strategic locks hung down. And there were those brown eyes, but they were now surrounded by tasteful amounts of mascara and eyeshadow. Her lips, always full and expressive, were now painted burgundy. The baggy clothes she always inhabited had been traded out for a formfitting orange, sequined, strapless gown that exposed collarbones that rarely saw the light. Finally, she walked in heels, which she swore she'd never do.
Tears welled up in Nestor's eyes.
She blushed. “Hi?”
Eric stepped up to her and picked her hand up from where it hung awkwardly at her side. He fastened a corsage to her wrist and looked her in the eye. “You're so beautiful, Rafaela.”
She laughed nervously. “I look like a glittery carrot that somebody painted a face on.”
He didn't laugh. “You look like someone a guy like me could fall for if he wasn't too careful.”
If blushing were a sound, Rafaela would have deafened the room.
“Come on,” he insisted, “let's go to prom. A couple of rebels like us, we'll burn the place down.”
She giggled. “Okay.”
He took her hand and led her to the front door, but was blocked by Nestor, who said, “Pictures first.”
* * *
Eric wasn't a student at Rafaela's high school. He wasn't a student at any high school. It was one thing that her parents thought it was okay that an older dropout was her first boyfriend, but the fact that they genuinely seemed to like him was a total mystery.
Regardless of his age and academic status, Eric treated prom like it was his own. He and Rafaela danced goofily to the upbeat songs, and they danced romantically to the slow songs. But most importantly, they hung out and made fun of the loser jocks and preps who treated this like the most important night of their lives. For them, it probably was. “Soak it up, people,” he called out at one point. “It's all downhill from here.”
“And now is that moment you've been waiting all night for!” announced Principal Higgins.
“Oh, this bullshit,” Rafaela moaned.
“Now is the time when we crown our new Prom Queen and King!” Principal Higgins continued.
“Oh, please,” Rafaela said, folding her arms and blowing a lock of hair out of her eye, “we all know who it's going to be: Charlie Talent and Wendy Doherty.”
“Can we have a round of applause for...” Principal Higgins opened an envelop and read from the card inside. “... Wendy Doherty and Charlie Talent!”
Charlie and Wendy, both athletes looking splendid in their formal wear, ascended the steps to the stage. Rafaela felt a pang of guilt for the fact that Charlie's smile still made her heart flutter.
“What did I ever see in that guy?” she muttered.
“Huh?” asked Eric, never taking his eyes off the stage.
“Nothing.”
“If that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, he told her, “then this will wash it out.” He raised a disposable lighter over his head and lit it.
Rafaela frowned. “What?”
Eric flicked the lighter again. “This.”
“Again, what?”
He studied the ceiling, confused. “This has never happened before.”
As if somebody dumped a comically large bucket on his head, a sheet of water splashed on him, soaking him completely. Rafaela jumped back, but she still got wet.
The Prom Queen and King ceremony ground to a halt as everyone turned to look at Eric while giving him a large circle of space.
“That's right, zombies,” he said loudly, “laugh at the outsider!”
Everyone, still confused, remained silent, until somebody did laugh, heartily. The crowd parted, and Anik White, the dark-skinned and angular track star dressed in a black tuxedo with a black shirt to match his hair and eyes, stepped into the empty circle, with his date, blonde school newspaper editor Cindy Mays, on his arm.
“It looks like someone rigged the sprinkler system to spray everybody in this gym unless you were standing in this specific spot,” Anik observed. “And that just didn't work for me.” He released Cindy and strutted over to Eric, towering over him. “There's room for one trickster in this school, and that's me. I am Raven. I helped create man. I stole the sun. And what did you do?”
“I stole hearts,” Eric replied.
“The sun is bigger than a heart,” Anik scoffed.
“Tell that to anyone whose heart is stolen.”
Anik cocked his head. “What are you anyway? Fox, is it?”
“What?” Rafaela shrieked. “You're kitsune?” She slapped his shoulder over and over. “I trusted you! Why the fuck can't I just find a decent guy? Why can't I just be normal?”
“Hey! Easy! I'm the same Eric.”
“I assumed you were a person!” Rafaela snapped back.
“We'll talk about this later,” Eric insisted, “and not when I'm in the middle of something.”
It was here that Rafaela noticed that Principal Higgins hadn't inserted himself into the situation. Wasn't that his job?
“You were in the middle of leaving,” Anik told him.
“No, I wasn't.” Eric reached out and grabbed a rope that was hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the gym-one that Rafaela hadn't noticed before. He gave it a sharp tug, and a second later an anvil fell from the rafters and struck Anik on the head, knocking him to the floor.
Cindy screamed.
Rafaela glanced back and forth from Anik to Eric. “Holy shit! You just killed a guy! You just killed a guy! Where the fuck did you get an anvil? You just killed a guy!”
“Relax,” Eric purred, “do you see any blood?”
Anik sat up suddenly.
Cindy screamed again.
He rubbed his head, narrowed his eyes, and stated, “This. Means. War.”
“Anyway,” Eric said, “it's time to go.” He wrapped his fingers around Rafaela's arm, but she shook him free.
“I'll find my own ride home,” she informed him.
Eric shrugged and ran toward the crowd, which parted for him. Anik followed. He pushed and pulled anybody out of his way.
Rafaela watched as much of the exchange as she could, and she did catch most of it.
One of the girls Anik was moving spun around, revealing Eric in a dress and wig and heavy makeup. He kissed Anik full on the lips.
Anik remarked, “That would only bother me if I was transphobic.”
“Does this bother you?” Eric punched him in the face.
“Okay.” Anik reached into his jacket and produced a revolver. “It's fox season.”
“Gun!” somebody shouted.
“Gun!” somebody repeated.
The gym filled up with screams and the thunder of feet as the students, and presumably Principal Higgins, evacuated.
Eric stuck his finger in the barrel of the gun, which exploded in Anik's face, covering him in soot. Eric then tore off the wig and dress, and he was once again wearing his tux. He ran for the exit, Anik at his heels.
This left only Rafaela, Cindy, and the DJ.
Rafaela watched the doors and observed, “You have to admit, your date's kind of a dick.”
“My date's a dick?” Cindy replied. “What about your date?”
“My date is the biggest dick of them all,” Rafaela admitted. “Want to dance?”
Cindy smiled. “I would.”
They waved at the DJ, who nodded his head and put on the cheery “Friday I'm in Love” by The Cure, which Cindy and Rafaela bounced along to. Later, he put on “Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh, a song that Rafaela had been looking forward to enjoying with Eric, before she found out he was a trickster spirit. She and Cindy slow danced to it anyway.
Overall it was not the worst time she'd ever had.
“Angel, your date's here!” yelled Nestor.
“I'm not ready!” a voice from the back of the hallway yelled back.
“I'll go help her,” offered Sofia as she rushed to the bedroom.
Somebody rapped jauntily on the door. Nestor opened it to reveal a young Asian man in a tuxedo-however, he swapped out the traditional jacket for a leather one that belonged on a member of a motorcycle gang.
“Eric,” Nestor said with a grin. “Nice tux.”
Eric touched his lapel. “This old thing? I never go anywhere without it. It's like my totem.”
“I get totems, trust me.”
From the back of the house, somebody shrieked, “I can't let him see me like this! I'm hideous!”
Sofia responded with a raised voice, “I did not spend something like $80,000 on a prom dress so you could sit around your room and sulk! You've got a handsome boy with a nice car waiting for you! Go!”
Sofia returned to the living room and stood beside her husband. “I handled it like a mom. Hi, Eric.”
“You handled that like a commandant, dear,” Nestor observed.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
The young woman who cautiously peeked her head out of the hallway did not look like Rafaela Torres. Sure the black hair with streaks of silver were there, but it was restrained with clips and bobby pins so that only a few strategic locks hung down. And there were those brown eyes, but they were now surrounded by tasteful amounts of mascara and eyeshadow. Her lips, always full and expressive, were now painted burgundy. The baggy clothes she always inhabited had been traded out for a formfitting orange, sequined, strapless gown that exposed collarbones that rarely saw the light. Finally, she walked in heels, which she swore she'd never do.
Tears welled up in Nestor's eyes.
She blushed. “Hi?”
Eric stepped up to her and picked her hand up from where it hung awkwardly at her side. He fastened a corsage to her wrist and looked her in the eye. “You're so beautiful, Rafaela.”
She laughed nervously. “I look like a glittery carrot that somebody painted a face on.”
He didn't laugh. “You look like someone a guy like me could fall for if he wasn't too careful.”
If blushing were a sound, Rafaela would have deafened the room.
“Come on,” he insisted, “let's go to prom. A couple of rebels like us, we'll burn the place down.”
She giggled. “Okay.”
He took her hand and led her to the front door, but was blocked by Nestor, who said, “Pictures first.”
* * *
Eric wasn't a student at Rafaela's high school. He wasn't a student at any high school. It was one thing that her parents thought it was okay that an older dropout was her first boyfriend, but the fact that they genuinely seemed to like him was a total mystery.
Regardless of his age and academic status, Eric treated prom like it was his own. He and Rafaela danced goofily to the upbeat songs, and they danced romantically to the slow songs. But most importantly, they hung out and made fun of the loser jocks and preps who treated this like the most important night of their lives. For them, it probably was. “Soak it up, people,” he called out at one point. “It's all downhill from here.”
“And now is that moment you've been waiting all night for!” announced Principal Higgins.
“Oh, this bullshit,” Rafaela moaned.
“Now is the time when we crown our new Prom Queen and King!” Principal Higgins continued.
“Oh, please,” Rafaela said, folding her arms and blowing a lock of hair out of her eye, “we all know who it's going to be: Charlie Talent and Wendy Doherty.”
“Can we have a round of applause for...” Principal Higgins opened an envelop and read from the card inside. “... Wendy Doherty and Charlie Talent!”
Charlie and Wendy, both athletes looking splendid in their formal wear, ascended the steps to the stage. Rafaela felt a pang of guilt for the fact that Charlie's smile still made her heart flutter.
“What did I ever see in that guy?” she muttered.
“Huh?” asked Eric, never taking his eyes off the stage.
“Nothing.”
“If that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, he told her, “then this will wash it out.” He raised a disposable lighter over his head and lit it.
Rafaela frowned. “What?”
Eric flicked the lighter again. “This.”
“Again, what?”
He studied the ceiling, confused. “This has never happened before.”
As if somebody dumped a comically large bucket on his head, a sheet of water splashed on him, soaking him completely. Rafaela jumped back, but she still got wet.
The Prom Queen and King ceremony ground to a halt as everyone turned to look at Eric while giving him a large circle of space.
“That's right, zombies,” he said loudly, “laugh at the outsider!”
Everyone, still confused, remained silent, until somebody did laugh, heartily. The crowd parted, and Anik White, the dark-skinned and angular track star dressed in a black tuxedo with a black shirt to match his hair and eyes, stepped into the empty circle, with his date, blonde school newspaper editor Cindy Mays, on his arm.
“It looks like someone rigged the sprinkler system to spray everybody in this gym unless you were standing in this specific spot,” Anik observed. “And that just didn't work for me.” He released Cindy and strutted over to Eric, towering over him. “There's room for one trickster in this school, and that's me. I am Raven. I helped create man. I stole the sun. And what did you do?”
“I stole hearts,” Eric replied.
“The sun is bigger than a heart,” Anik scoffed.
“Tell that to anyone whose heart is stolen.”
Anik cocked his head. “What are you anyway? Fox, is it?”
“What?” Rafaela shrieked. “You're kitsune?” She slapped his shoulder over and over. “I trusted you! Why the fuck can't I just find a decent guy? Why can't I just be normal?”
“Hey! Easy! I'm the same Eric.”
“I assumed you were a person!” Rafaela snapped back.
“We'll talk about this later,” Eric insisted, “and not when I'm in the middle of something.”
It was here that Rafaela noticed that Principal Higgins hadn't inserted himself into the situation. Wasn't that his job?
“You were in the middle of leaving,” Anik told him.
“No, I wasn't.” Eric reached out and grabbed a rope that was hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the gym-one that Rafaela hadn't noticed before. He gave it a sharp tug, and a second later an anvil fell from the rafters and struck Anik on the head, knocking him to the floor.
Cindy screamed.
Rafaela glanced back and forth from Anik to Eric. “Holy shit! You just killed a guy! You just killed a guy! Where the fuck did you get an anvil? You just killed a guy!”
“Relax,” Eric purred, “do you see any blood?”
Anik sat up suddenly.
Cindy screamed again.
He rubbed his head, narrowed his eyes, and stated, “This. Means. War.”
“Anyway,” Eric said, “it's time to go.” He wrapped his fingers around Rafaela's arm, but she shook him free.
“I'll find my own ride home,” she informed him.
Eric shrugged and ran toward the crowd, which parted for him. Anik followed. He pushed and pulled anybody out of his way.
Rafaela watched as much of the exchange as she could, and she did catch most of it.
One of the girls Anik was moving spun around, revealing Eric in a dress and wig and heavy makeup. He kissed Anik full on the lips.
Anik remarked, “That would only bother me if I was transphobic.”
“Does this bother you?” Eric punched him in the face.
“Okay.” Anik reached into his jacket and produced a revolver. “It's fox season.”
“Gun!” somebody shouted.
“Gun!” somebody repeated.
The gym filled up with screams and the thunder of feet as the students, and presumably Principal Higgins, evacuated.
Eric stuck his finger in the barrel of the gun, which exploded in Anik's face, covering him in soot. Eric then tore off the wig and dress, and he was once again wearing his tux. He ran for the exit, Anik at his heels.
This left only Rafaela, Cindy, and the DJ.
Rafaela watched the doors and observed, “You have to admit, your date's kind of a dick.”
“My date's a dick?” Cindy replied. “What about your date?”
“My date is the biggest dick of them all,” Rafaela admitted. “Want to dance?”
Cindy smiled. “I would.”
They waved at the DJ, who nodded his head and put on the cheery “Friday I'm in Love” by The Cure, which Cindy and Rafaela bounced along to. Later, he put on “Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh, a song that Rafaela had been looking forward to enjoying with Eric, before she found out he was a trickster spirit. She and Cindy slow danced to it anyway.
Overall it was not the worst time she'd ever had.