Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

He does this weird, rhythmic pantomime of swimming, followed by this side-to-side shoulder lurch/butt scoot combo.

“Yeah, you’re awesome,” Abby says. “Come on.” She tugs his hands, and he springs up, beaming. Then she guides her little harem to this carpeted area near the stereo, where people are drinking and grinding to Kanye. Except Abby kind of goes into her own world when she dances, so Nick and Martin end up bobbing self-consciously and pointedly not looking at each other.

“Oh my God,” says Leah. “It’s happening. We’re finally witnessing something more painful than Nick’s bar mitzvah.”

“Awkwardness achievement unlocked.”

“Should we be filming this?”

“Just savor it.” I hook my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. And Leah’s weird about hugs sometimes, but today she buries her face in my shoulder and murmurs something into the fabric of my robes.

“What?” I nudge her.

But she just shakes her head and sighs.

Leah drops us all off at Nick’s at midnight, and from there, it’s a seven-minute walk to my house. The indoor lights are off everywhere, but the neighborhood is still lit up orange. There are a few smashed pumpkins and lots of toilet paper tangled through branches. Shady Creek may be a magical fairyland of a suburb most of the time, but when the candy runs out on Halloween, the criminal underbelly emerges. At least in my neighborhood.

It’s chilly and unnaturally quiet—if Abby weren’t with me, I would have to drown out the silence with music. It feels like we’re the last survivors of a zombie apocalypse. Wonder Woman and a gay dementor. It doesn’t bode well for the survival of the species.

We turn at the end of Nick’s street. I could do this walk with my eyes closed.

“All right, I have something to ask you,” Abby says.

“Oh yeah?”

“So, Martin was talking to me when you were in the bathroom.”

I feel something freeze up inside of me.

“Okay,” I say.

“Yeah, and this is—maybe I’m reading this wrong, but he was talking about homecoming, and he brought it up like three times.”

“Did he ask you to the dance?”

“No. It was like—I guess it seemed like he was maybe trying to?”

Martin freaking Addison. He’s like the opposite of suave.

But holy fuck, I’m so relieved he didn’t tell her.

“I’m guessing he didn’t get anywhere with that.”

Abby bites her lip and smiles. “He’s a really nice guy.”

“Yup.”

“But I’m already going with Ty Allen. He asked me two weeks ago.”

“Really? How did I not know that?”

“Sorry—was I supposed to announce it on the Tumblr?” She grins. “Anyway, I don’t know if you might be able to mention that to Martin. You’re friends with him, right? I’d just rather not deal with him asking me, if I can avoid it.”

“Um. I’ll see what I can do.”

“What about you? Are you still boycotting?” Abby asks.

“Of course.” Leah, Nick, and I are of the mind that homecoming is just achingly lame, and we skip it every year.

“You could ask Leah,” Abby says. She looks at me sidelong, with a weird, probing expression.

I feel a storm of laughter brewing. “You think I like Leah.”

“I don’t know,” she says, smiling and shrugging. “You looked so sweet together tonight.”

“Me and Leah?” I ask. But I’m gay. GAY. Gaaaaaaaayyyyy. God, I should really just tell her. I can kind of picture her reaction. Eyes widening. Mouth falling open.

Yeah. Maybe not tonight.

“Hey,” I say, not quite looking at her. “Do you think you would ever be into Martin?”

“Martin Addison? Um. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. He’s a decent guy. I guess.” My voice sounds thin and high. Like Voldemort. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

“Aww. It’s cute that you guys are friends.”

I don’t even know what to say to that.

My mom is waiting for us in the kitchen when we walk in, and it’s time to brace myself. The thing about my mom is she’s a child psychologist. And it shows.

“So, tell me about the party, guys!”

Here we go. It was awesome, Mom. Good thing Garrett had so much booze. I mean, really.

Abby is better at this than I am—she launches into a really detailed description of everyone’s costumes, while my mom brings over this epic plate of snacks from the counter. My parents are usually in bed by ten, and I can tell my mom is exhausted. But I knew she’d be awake when we got home. She seriously lives for opportunities to be a hey guys I’m cool kind of mom.

“And Nick played guitar,” Abby says.

“Nick’s very talented,” says my mom.

“Oh, I know,” Abby replies. “Girls were like swooning over him.”

“That’s why I keep telling Simon to learn guitar. His sister used to play.”