A World Without You. A. S. Peterson
of Orson’s Hardware Store. From here, Felicia would continue on alone to The Parlor, and Scott would enter a few minutes later. In South Hillside, whenever a boy and girl entered or exited the restaurant together, they were considered a couple.
Felicia placed her hand on Scott’s arm. She smiled sheepishly. “Do you have any money? I spent all my allowance on my new clothes.”
Scott shook his head. His neighbor could spend money faster than anyone he knew. “What do you owe me now? Five hundred dollars?”
“Very funny,” Felicia replied as she took the five-dollar bill he gave her. “Thanks, you’re the best.”
“Sure, now I am.”
Felicia laughed and gave him an appreciative hug.
Five minutes after Felicia disappeared into The Parlor, Scott entered the 1950s-style restaurant crowded with teenagers. The jukebox near the front door was playing Bryan Adam’s song “Everything I Do, I Do for You.” Felicia and her best friend, Patty, sat in a booth near the jukebox while Randy sat opposite from them. Although Felicia didn’t glance in his direction, Patty waved. Scott nodded and looked to his left, meeting Brett’s aloof expression. His friends’ area was two feet higher from the rest of The Parlor. Derek’s older brother, Justin, had helped Derek claim the most preferred area in the restaurant.
Instead of going straight to his friends’ table, Scott strolled to the counter near the cash register where Charlie, the husky dark-haired owner, stood. “Hi, Charlie, how’s everything working around here?”
The Vietnam veteran gave his lopsided grin. “Everything is in proper working order because of you. Thanks for repairing my freezer.” Charlie handed Scott a menu. “I owe you one. Get whatever you want. It’s on the house.”
Scott shook his head, looking at the scar on Charlie’s neck which he received from a Vietnamese in Saigon. “I don’t mind paying for my own food. I owe you more than you’ll ever owe me.”
Over at the sophomore area, Brett slicked back his chocolate-colored hair as he observed Scott walk over to Charlie. Scott was the smartest kid in their class but just the sight of that genius irritated Brett. He promised himself that one day, when Derek wasn’t around, he’d beat the crap out of Scott. Looking at his best buddy, Lance, who had taken a seat on the other side of the table in the corner position, Brett snarled, “Scott’s here.”
Karl and Lance casually turned sideways, looking behind them. While Karl observed Scott chatting effortlessly with Charlie, he scratched the side of his neck, wondering how someone as intelligent as Scott could be blindsided when it came to Derek taking the girls Scott liked. Karl turned and faced his friends. “I heard Margie likes Scott.”
Brett shook his head. “So what? I heard that Destiny likes Scott.”
At the end of the table, Derek, who had the best view inside the restaurant, rested his elbows on the table authoritatively. “You guys sure?”
Nodding, Karl glared at Derek. “Yeah, I have a reliable source.”
Lance crumpled up his napkins and threw it across the table. “It doesn’t take brain surgery to know that Scott’s not going to go for Margie, and when he doesn’t, I’m making a move for her.”
Matt grinned. Brett and Lance would use any advantage to get their hands on a girl. “Dude, Scott liked her in eighth grade.”
Lance growled, “That was then. This is now. He’ll shoot her down.”
Karl asked, “Do you have a plan? Margie doesn’t go for just anyone.”
Lance smirked. “Whatever Scott says, I’ll say the opposite. That babe will be walking out of The Parlor with me.”
Raising his eyebrows, as if a light bulb turned on, Brett wrinkled his forehead. “Dude, you got the plan. When Scott turns down Destiny, I’m making a move for her.” Flexing his biceps, he added, “Destiny will want these.”
Karl added with a pretended seriousness, “Maybe she wants brains and not brawn.”
Brett, who had the vocabulary level of a third grader, asked, “What bronze?”
As the guys laughed, Derek looked from Brett to Lance. His right-hand man always ran circles around these two. Leaning forward, he joked. “Don’t be surprised if Scott walks out of here with both babes.”
The guys laughed. Scott wasn’t the type. Leaning back on his chair, Karl studied Derek who was like an island unto himself. No one ever knew his true feelings. For that reason, he purposely aggravated him. “No, Derek, that’s what you would do.”
The guys shifted in their chairs. One of these days, Karl’s blunt comments would catch up with him. They waited for Derek to strike back with a threat, but today, he didn’t fall for the bait.
Derek rubbed his right clenched fist, narrowed his eyes as he stared at Karl, and shook his head slowly. “No, I’ll walk out of here with three babes.”
Sweat built up under Karl’s armpits. “Do you want to put your money on that?”
Brett interrupted their challenge. “Here comes Scott.”
Scott climbed the three steps, strolling over to the empty chair on the right side of Brett. From here, he could keep his eye on Randy and Felicia, and if they left together, he’d know.
Derek rested comfortably on his chair, relieved his comrade was present. “Hey, Scott, Karl doesn’t think I could walk out of here with three babes. What do you think?”
Without hesitating, Scott replied, “Sure you could. I’ll put money on that bet too.”
Karl doubted his chances of winning after hearing Scott’s confident answer. He decided to change his bet from Derek to Scott. “Dude, what about you? How many girls could you get to walk out of here with you?”
Scott scanned The Parlor and thought about the girl in the park, her innocent disposition, her long blond hair, and her sad expression. “None.”
The guys laughed. Karl shoved his dark-blond bangs off his forehead. “No confidence?”
Scott shook his head. “No interest.”
Brett raised his eyebrows as he looked at Lance who nodded his head with certainty. Their evening looked promising.
Jess, Adam, and Troy arrived next. Five minutes after their arrival, the door swung open as Pamela, Destiny, Becky, and Sondra glided into The Parlor as if no party could start without them. Their hair were perfectly stiff, their face had too much makeup, and their clothes and accessories were flamboyant as they tried to create a Euro Chic style.
The girls rushed over to their table, using their singsong voice. “Hi, you guys.”
They grabbed chairs from the nearest table, squeezing themselves between the boys. Pamela wedged herself between Matt and Karl. Becky and Sondra sat at the end of the table beside Derek while Destiny parked herself between Scott and Brett.
Scott moved his chair over, hoping Destiny was interested in Brett. To his disappointment, she scooted closer, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Scott. What have you been up to lately?”
He looked into Destiny’s gray-blue eyes. “Nothing.”
Scott nonchalantly studied her heavy blue eye shadow, her dark pink rouge, and her dark foundation that stopped at her neck. He was now aware of women’s makeup and whether or not it matched their skin tone. It had all started in seventh and eighth grade when he chose art as an elective. His art teacher taught them to notice every specific detail of art by the shadows and colors casting off nature to the fine details of a portrait. His art teacher also mentioned a human face was either oval or round and an artist needed to remember the skin tone. If you wanted the person in the portrait to look realistic, the exact colors must be applied to the face.
After that class, Scott no longer saw just people. Everyone became a portrait as he studied their