The Saturday Boy

“Smell the—why?”

“To make sure it’s still good. Oh, never mind. I’ll do it.”

She took a slice and held it to her nose and made a face. Then she sniffed it again, shrugged, and put it down on the bread.

“Who was that on the phone?” I asked.

“Budgie’s mom,” she said. “And listen, before you freak out—I’m going out with your aunt Josie this afternoon. I called Budgie’s mom to see if it would be okay if you went over there to play for a while.”

My heart tumbled into my stomach. Play with Budgie? Budgie? The Dr. Mayhem to my Zeroman? Was she out of her mind?

“You want me to play with Budgie?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s my nemesis!”

“No, he’s not. You’re too young to have a nemesis.”

“He’s mean to me!”

“I know, Piggy, I’m sorry,” she said. “You two used to get along so well, though. What happened?”

“I don’t know. Now he’s only nice to me when there’s nobody else around and even then he’s not that nice. He’s just… less mean.”

It was true. Budgie and I used to be friends. Actually, the summer his family moved to town I was the only friend he had. We did everything together—we made up these awesome superheroes, Strong Guy and Fast Guy, and ran around fighting the Forces of Evil. We read comics and played video games and watched Dinoboy together. We made up secret handshakes and were going to build a castle together and keep all the grown-ups out. It was going to be awesome.

Then when school started he met all these other kids and we didn’t play together as much. Now we don’t play at all. Now he doesn’t like me and I don’t know why. I’ve never even done anything to him. He even said that Dinoboy was for nerds.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Mom said. “I absolutely hate that he’s mean to you but it would just be the two of you. It’s only for a little while, okay? Mommy really needs to get out of the house. Please?”

“Can I come with you?”

“No, honey, you can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Please?”

“Sorry.”

“Please!”

“Raising your voice won’t change anything,” Mom said. “Now eat your lunch so we can get ready to go.”

I took the sandwich and stomped over to the table. If I was a cartoon I’d have a big, black cloud over my head with lightning coming out of it. That’s how mad I was. Mom put away the ham and cheese and mustard and then stood there and watched me eat. I put the hood of my sweatshirt up.

“Stop looking at me,” I said.

“But you’re so handsome.”

“Stop it.”

“But I love you.”

“Mo-om!”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Want some chips?”

“Yes, please.”

Mom got the potato chips from the cupboard and shook some onto my plate. I took the top slice of bread off the sandwich and put the chips on the inside. Then I replaced the bread and took a bite. A lot of sandwiches taste better with potato chips in them. Especially boring sandwiches like ham and cheese. Mom sat down across from me.

“Have you told him to stop?” Mom asked.

“Told who to stop what?”

“Budgie. To stop being mean.”

“Yes. No. Not exactly,” I said. “Even when I do tell him to stop he doesn’t.”

Mom put her hand on my arm and looked me in the eyes. She frowned.

“I’m sorry your friend is such a jerk, sweetie.”

“Me too.”

* * *

It was weird, though, because that afternoon at his house Budgie wasn’t a jerk at all. Actually, it was just like it used to be. We played video games and drew some pictures for the Strong Guy and Fast Guy comic we were going to make. We even talked about plans for the castle. Budgie thought there should be piranhas in the moat and I thought crocodiles would be better so we invented a creature called a piranhadile and figured we’d stock the moat with a few of those bad boys.

We started up Derek and Budgie’s Secret Secret Club again and made up a tricky new handshake that took five minutes to do. Then we hung a blanket from the top bunk so it made a fort of the bottom one. We got inside and held the new club’s first official meeting where Budgie told me that one time he peed himself at school and tried to hide it by splashing water on his pants and telling everyone the water fountain was broken and had squirted him. I told him about the play and how I had to embrace Violet and how it actually wasn’t as bad as I had thought it was going to be. I had been hanging on to that one and it felt good to finally tell someone. We sat quiet for a minute.

“So are you boyfriend and girlfriend?” Budgie finally asked.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. Maybe.”

“Do you think you’ll get married?”

“Probably. Yeah.”

“Y’wanna know something else weird?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Budgie.

“On Fridays her hair smells like apples.”

“What does it smell like on other days?”

“I don’t know. Not apples.”

“I don’t know what’s weirder,” Budgie said. “The fact that her hair only smells like apples on Fridays or that you’ve taken the time to figure that out.”

We talked about other stuff too for a while—the land-speed capabilities of zombies as affected by stage of decay, for example—and by the time Mom came to pick me up I didn’t want to leave.

“Mrs. Lamb, can Derek sleep over?”

“Yeah, Mom, can I?”

“Some other time.”

“But—”

“What would you sleep in? You don’t even have a toothbrush.”

“I’ll use my finger! Please?”

“Yeah, and he can borrow some of my pajamas,” said Budgie.

“It’s not a good idea,” Mom said. “Not tonight. Not on such short notice. I’m sure Budgie’s mom—”

“She doesn’t care,” said Budgie.

“I suppose it would be okay,” said Budgie’s mom.

“You’re so nice to offer, Helen, but I don’t want to impose any more than I already have. Another time, maybe?”

Budgie’s mom just stood there with her arms crossed looking at us. She was kinda smiling but not really.

“Of course.”

“Derek, say thank you,” Mom said.

“What about tomorrow night?” said Budgie.