Chapter Text
The summer was sweaty and suffocating and Eugene was basically dying of boredom. It’s not like he liked school -- his teachers got mad at him for being too loud and fidgety and he could only pay attention during PE, when they got to run around and play after hours of sitting in stiff chairs. But at least with school, he got to get out of the house and talk to people. All he did now was watch TV when his dad was at work and try to play games with Jesse.
“Hey, Jesse, wanna play a game?” asked Eugene.
Jesse stuck her foot in her mouth.
He didn’t get far beyond trying.
With a sigh, Eugene hefted himself to his feet and grabbed Jesse around the middle. She was too big to really care anymore, but she sort of waddled her feet along the ground, helping him move her to his mom and dad’s room. The room was dark; he could hear the soft, deep breaths of his mom, asleep after working the night shift.
“Mom?” Eugene whispered. “I’m gonna put Jesse in her crib, ‘kay?”
His mom mumbled something in response. Eugene bounced Jesse in his arms to get a better grip and then hefted her to their room. With a deep breath, he lifted Jesse over the rail of her crib.
He took a moment to catch his breath and stared into Jesse’s doe eyes.
“You good?” he asked.
“Banana,” said Jesse and Eugene could do that. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a banana -- it was a little brown, but Jesse wouldn’t care -- and then he filled a sippy cup with apple juice and went back to her crib.
“Be good,” he said, peeling the banana and handing it to Jesse. “I’ll be back soon.”
Jesse smiled blearily at him and he grinned back. And then he ran from the room, and out the door, his feet struggling to keep time with his heartbeat. He grabbed his bike from the backyard and then -- freedom.
Eugene pedaled with wild abandon, not slowing down for angry pigeons or old ladies walking their fluffy dogs. He was out of the house, finally, and the sun was beating down on him; if he moved fast enough, he could feel a breeze, and nowhere anyone else was going could possibly be as important as this.
He peered up at the sky, bright and blue with feathery white clouds, like something from a picture book or a photograph. It was like could be anywhere. Long Island. Hawaii. Somewhere in, like, Europe, where they had beaches and fashion shows --
“Slow down there!”
Eugene barely had a glimpse of a man with white hair before he was veering into the street and tumbling from his bike. His elbows and knees stung as they scratched against the hot pavement.
“Easy does it, easy --,”
The man ran to Eugene, laying in the middle of the street.
“I’m sorry,” said Eugene, pushing himself to his feet. When he looked down at his legs, he gasped: his knees were bloody and black, torn from the asphalt.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t cry --”
“I’m not crying,” snapped Eugene, but he suddenly became aware of the warm wetness on his cheeks. He wiped it away.
A car honked and Eugene jumped.
“Let’s get you out of the street,” said the man, giving the driver a distracted wave. “C’mon, I live just over here.”
The man’s hands on Eugene’s shoulders were alarmingly gentle. Eugene kept expecting them to tighten, to bruise, but they were solid and warm and didn’t hurt at all.
As they walked, guiding Eugene’s bike between them, the man kept up a steady stream of conversation.
“What’s your name, buddy?”
Eugene didn’t want to tell him. He had the same name as the nerdy guy in Grease that everyone hated. They had watched that movie on Valentine’s Day, as a family. Eugene thought that Danny was so cool when he got up on the car and danced. He tried to follow along on the living room floor and his dad had snorted and bent his wrist and Eugene knew it meant something dirty from the way his mom whispered, “ Harrison. ”
Danny was a cool name. Or Kenickie. Even Rizzo was better than Eugene.
“Eugene,” he mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t be heard.
He was.
“It’s nice to meet you, Eugene,” said the man, and he kept talking before Eugene could say a thing. “I’m Ben. Your parents working? That’s good, that’s good, work is important. I work in construction. Do you know what construction is? Well, I build bridges mostly. I love bridges. Do you like bridges, Eugene?”
They arrived at a house, packed against a bunch of other houses, like Eugenes, or maybe a little bit smaller. But when Ben opened the door, the house didn’t smell like smoke and beer. It smelled like -- like whatever the opposite of smoke and beer was. Like flowers. Or Santa’s workshop. If that was even a real place. Eugene was starting to have his doubts.
“May and Peter must be baking,” said Ben. “You want a cookie?”
Eugene wasn’t sure if this was a trick. So he didn’t say anything.
Ben led him to a tiny kitchen where a tiny woman with greying hair and a tinier boy were laughing and dancing to some music on the radio as they coated little balls of dough in powdered sugar. The Santa Claus smell was even stronger here. Eugene took a big whiff of it, and he couldn’t help his contented sigh.
At the sound, the boy turned and Eugene blinked when he realized it was Peter, from school. Eugene hadn’t recognized him from the back because he usually saw Peter before class with his backpack on. The backpack had a picture of Batman and Robin from that old TV show on it -- sometimes Eugene watched the reruns with his mom -- and one time a kid asked Peter, “Why do you like such a dumb show?” Eugene had been promising himself that he would never watch Batman again when Peter calmly answered, “I don’t know, Ricky, why can’t you tie your shoes yet?”
Eugene had thought about that all day. Peter didn’t talk much, but when he did, everyone listened to him. Eugene talked all the time, but it felt like no one ever heard him at all.
“What are you doing here?” Peter asked, a frown creasing his face.
“Watch your tone, kiddo,” said Ben, reaching over to ruffle Peter’s dark hair. “ Go get the first aid.”
Still frowning, Peter ran out of the room.
“You know Pete from school?” asked Ben as the woman -- May, Eugene’s brain filled in -- gently but firmly pushed Eugene onto a wooden chair.
Eugene nodded. “Are you his mom and dad?”
Eugene thought they seemed much too old to be Peter’s parents, but Eugene didn’t understand what else they could be. Maybe grandparents that Peter was staying with. Eugene’s mom’s parents were dead and his dad never talked about his parents, so he wasn’t exactly sure how grandparents worked.
“His aunt and uncle,” said Ben just as Peter came back with the first aid kid. Ben wiped down Eugene’s knees and elbows; the skin there prickled and stung. Eugene stared hard at the floral carpet, trying not to cry.
“There we go,” said Ben and he pressed large butterfly bandaids to Eugene’s skin. He instantly felt better, the blood hidden from view.
“Not so bad, huh?” asked Ben, clapping Eugene on the back. Eugene flinched and Ben froze, staring at Eugene with his bushy eyebrows knitted together. Eugene ducked his head, bracing himself for another impact.
“Who wants ice cream?”
Eugene glanced up at Ben and then at Peter, whose eyes were wide.
“Can we go out for ice cream, Uncle Ben?” asked Peter. “Please?”
“I just made cookies,” said May with a huff.
“Then we’ll get a carton and bring it back,” said Ben. “C’mon, May.”
“C’mon, Aunt May!” repeated Peter, bouncing up and down on his tiptoes. “Please!”
Aunt May stared at them both for a long moment, her shoulders set and her gaze unwavering. Eugene wanted to tell them to drop it, but he couldn’t, not when he was in their house and Ben had just finished putting him back together. But then something surprising happened: Aunt May smiled, just a little at the edges of her mouth, and Peter was throwing his arms around her waist and Ben was saying, “Slow down, slugger,” but he was smiling too.
Eugene had never met a group of people who smiled so much. He felt his own lips curling without his permission, like in The Grinch. Like his heart was growing three sizes. Like, somewhere, he could hear singing.
-x-
Ben walked Peter and Eugene down to the market and they each got to pick out an ice cream flavor. Peter chose rocky road and Eugene chose strawberry because his mom always said he had “strawberry” hair, even though strawberries were red and his was just a little orange sometimes. And Ben got butter pecan, which sounded gross, but apparently it was May’s favorite.
On the walk back, they played I Spy. Eugene spied a yellow school bus. Peter spotted it immediately. He called it “obvious.” Not even Ben could guess what Peter had spied, and he refused to tell them.
Back at the house, Ben served everyone ice cream: strawberry for Eugene, rocky road for Peter, butter pecan for May, and a little bit of all of ‘em for himself. “That’s not good for your heart,” said May and Ben said, “But it’s good for my stomach!” Peter howled with laughter.
They settled in front of the TV to watch the Mets game with their ice cream, cheering every time the Mets got on base and booing when the Yankees did. After a half hour or so, Peter snuck out a book to read while the Yankees were at bat. The book was thick and old with no pictures that Eugene could see.
“Pete, why don’t you take your friend up to you room?” asked Ben.
“He’s not my friend,” said Peter automatically.
Eugene scuffed his shoes against the carpet.
May started to say, “ Peter --,” but Eugene cut in, “You’re not my friend either.”
“Hey, there’ll be none of that in this house,” said Ben in a stern voice and Eugene shrunk back into the couch. “Go show him your room, Pete.”
With a sigh, Peter slammed his heavy book closed and jumped to his feet. He headed off towards the stairs and Eugene scrambled after him.
As they climbed the stairs, Eugene’s eyes raked the wall. It was lined with photos and Eugene’s gaze caught on one in particular: a much younger May in a white dress, her arms wrapped around a much younger Ben in a black tuxedo. They grinned at each other dopily. Eugene was pretty sure he had seen pictures of his parents on their wedding day, but he could barely remember them now. He wondered if they looked as happy.
“You coming?” yelled Peter and Eugene ran the rest of the way up the stairs.
Peter’s room was pretty much the same size and shape as Eugene’s, but there was no crib for Jesse, of course, and his bed wasn’t just a mattress shoved against the wall; it was shaped like a race car.
“Whoa,” said Eugene, staring at it. “That’s so cool.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Peter, like he’d never really thought about how cool it was.
Eugene wandered around Peter’s room. There was a box of toys, mostly action figures and little plastic animals. He passed a huge bookshelf that was basically overflowing with books; Eugene could see some comic books, but they were outnumbered by old chapter books and encyclopedias. And there was a desk with a lava lamp on it, which Eugene thought was really cool, and some more books and a stack of papers that had pencil sketches on them.
“Did you draw these?” asked Eugene.
“Yup,” said Peter, popping the ‘p’ as he picked out an encyclopedia from his book shelf. “I do that sometimes.”
Eugene looked over the drawings: sketches of flowers and dogs and one with a bunch of connected dots that Eugene thought might be a constellation of stars. He shuffled he drawing across the desk to get a closer look and his gaze caught on one. It was labelled Anatomy of a Spider and, true enough, had a detailed drawing of some long-legged spider on it, with branches pointing to words in Peter’s scratchy writing: Patella; Femur; Heart; Pedipalp.
“You can take that if you want.”
“What?” Eugene asked, spinning around.
“The drawing,” said Peter, squinting at Eugene through his glasses. “I can make another one.”
Eugene’s hands were sweaty. “I don’t want it.”
Peter frowned. “Screw you, Eugene.” He went back to the book in his lap.
Eugene stared at Peter with his head bent over the book. He was a quiet kid at school and mostly kept to himself; Eugene had never really looked at him before. Even from this angle, Eugene could see his thick eyebrows and a nose that jutted sharply under the bridge of his glasses. His hair was a moppy mess of almost-curls, shadowing his face. Eugene thought there was a lot about him to look at.
He folded up the drawing of the spider and shoved it into the pocket of his shorts.
Eugene turned back to the desk to shuffle Peter’s drawings back into a stack when he noticed a colorful piece of paper peeking out from the mess. It was an invitation for -- Eugene could barely believe it -- Liz Allan’s birthday party.
Liz Allan was in Peter and Flash’s class and she was the prettiest girl in school with extremely shiny hair. Her dad owned a restaurant which was a very cool thing to do and for show and tell, Liz brought a hamster to class and it was the cutest hamster ever. There had been rumors about Liz’s birthday party going around and Eugene didn’t think he’d be invited. But he didn’t think Peter Parker would be invited either.
“Are you going to the party?” asked Peter, once again noticing Eugene’s observations.
“No,” said Eugene. He felt like he had when he got a gummy bear caught in his throat. “It sounds stupid.”
“I thought you and Liz were friends.”
“I think she’s dumb.”
“Sure.” Eugene could practically hear Peter’s eyes rolling. “You just follow her around like a lost puppy at recess.”
“Shut up!” Eugene spun around to glare at Peter. His eyes burned hot. He swallowed against a thick knot in his throat. “This is why you don’t have any friends.”
Peter scowled. “You eat lunch in the bathroom.”
A hot flush worked its way over Eugene’s face. He only hid in the bathroom when they didn’t have any food in the house and his mom forgot to give him money to buy lunch at school. Not because he didn’t have friends. And he didn’t think anyone had noticed.
“I’m going home,” said Eugene.
“Whatever,” said Peter, staring down at his book.
Eugene raced out of Peter’s bedroom and down the stairs. Ben and May were still watching the game.
“You okay, pal?” asked Ben.
“Thanks for the ice cream,” said Eugene and then he was darting out the door. He hopped on his bike and pedalled fast down the street, away from ice cream and birthday invitations and Peter and his aunt and uncle, his knees aching the whole time.
-x-
When he snuck back into his home, his dad was still out. His mom’s door was still shut tight. He checked in on Jesse, and saw her sleeping soundly in her crib, curled up around her sippy cup. It was like he hadn’t left at all.
-x-
There was a pink envelope bearing his name in bold silver glitter sitting in the mailbox. Eugene pulled it out carefully, leaving the rest of the mail inside, and stared at the unicorn sticker securing the flap. And then he tore it open.
You Are Cordially Invited to Liz’s Birthday!
Join Liz on opening day of The Lion King for some WILD fun!
Day: June 24
Time: 2:00 pm
Place: Liz’s house
Please RSVP
Eugene turned the envelope over in his hands. The glittery EUGENE THOMPSON stared back at him . It wasn’t a mistake.
Eugene could barely contain his smile as he ran back inside.
“Mom, mom!” Eugene yelled. “Guess what!”
Eugene found his mom in his and Jesse’s room. Jesse was running around in nothing but a diaper, while his mom clutched a tiny dress helplessly.
“Mom, guess what!”
“Not now, Eugene.”
“Moooom!”
“Mom, guess what!” shouted Jesse. “Mom, guess what!”
“ What , Eugene?” asked Eugene’s mom.
Eugene shoved the invitation into his mom’s face. She blinked, craning her neck to get a better look at it. “I got invited to Liz’s birthday party! They’re going to see The Lion King ! Can I go, can I go, can I --,”
“Eugene -- hush for one minute, please.”
She took the invitation and read it as Jesse jumped on Eugene’s mattress and yelled, “Can I go!”
“I’m sure you can go,” Mom said at last and Eugene beamed. “But you’ll have to ask your dad first.”
Eugene deflated. Dad never let him do anything.
But maybe this time. If he saw how much he wanted to go.
Eugene ran and tackled Jesse to his mattress. She shrieked.
“Eugene!” Mom yelled, running over. “Oh my god, you can’t just do that. Jess, are you hurt?”
But Jesse, trapped in the cage of Eugene’s arms, was giggling madly.
“I got you, monster,” Eugene told his sister, blowing a raspberry on her shoulder. He smiled up at his mom. “I helped!”
“I helped, I helped, I helped!” chorused Jesse.
“You can’t just do that,” said his mom, but she finally slipped the dress onto Jesse.
-x-
Eugene waited on the steps of his house for his dad to come home. It got very dark.
Mom poked her head out of the door. Under the flickering porch light, she looked like a ghost.
“He’s not coming home any time soon, hon,” she said.
“He gets off at six,” said Eugene.
“And it’s nine.”
“But you said --,”
“Eugene!” Mom burst. Eugene shrunk back and Mom rubbed her eyes. “I think he’s busy, baby. Come inside.”
“Quit telling him that, Rosie,” called a voice.
Eugene jumped up. There, walking towards them, was his dad, tall and broad, with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a glinting flask in his hand.
“Daddy!” Eugene cried, running up to his father.
“What did I tell you about calling me that, kid? Makes you sound like a girl.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Where were you?” asked Mom as Dad pushed his way through the door.
“Doesn’t matter, does it? I’m here now.”
“Dad, I have a question,” said Eugene as his dad threw himself down on the sofa. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, flipping through sports channels.
“Well, spit it out. Don’t got all day.”
Eugene gingerly placed the invitation he was still holding in his father’s lap.
“I got invited to Liz’s party,” said Eugene, suddenly feeling very shy. “She’s taking friends to see The Lion King. It’s got a -- a lion in it.”
“You know I don’t like movies, bucko.”
“I know, but I --,”
“Hollywood’s full of bleeding heart queers,” said Eugene’s dad, as if he didn’t hear him. “It’s even worse than Queens that way.”
“Harrison,” said Mom. “He’s six.”
“If he’s gonna be a grown man, he has to learn how a grown man talks.” Dad slugged him lightly across the chin, and Eugene grinned. “Right, Eugene?”
“Right,” said Eugene, unsure of what he was agreeing to.
His dad took a swig from his flask, kicking off his shoes. “Make me a sandwich or something, will you, Rose?”
Eugene’s mom bustled away into the kitchen. Eugene waited until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So can I go?” Eugene asked.
Dad didn’t even look at him. “Go where?”
“To -- to Liz Allan’s party.”
“Wait --,” Dad’s eyes flicked to him. “Allan, like -- that guy with the restaurant?”
“Yes!” said Eugene, beaming.
“I am not buying some rich asshole’s daughter a birthday present. Count yourself out.”
Eugene’s smile faded. “What?”
Dad tore the invitation down the middle. Eugene flinched back from the sound of paper tearing, like it was a gunshot.
“You’re not going. That’s the end of it.”
Dad dropped the pieces of the invitation and Eugene watched them float down to the carpet. Tears stung his eyes. He sniffed.
“You crying?” Dad asked.
“No, sir.”
“Good. Go to your room.”
Eugene ran to his bedroom, where Jesse was sleeping in the crib she was too big for. He laid down on his mattress, pulled the covers over his head, and tried to cry without sound.
-x-
Eugene cracked open the door to his bedroom and slipped outside. His socked feet padded on the carpeted hallway, past his parents’ closed door, and into the living room. His father was asleep on the couch and he slowly bent to grab the pieces of the invitation. Dad mumbled something in his sleep. Eugene froze -- but Dad just rolled over onto his side.
Eugene tiptoed into the kitchen, where he sat at a chair next to the phone. He held the pieces of the invitation close to his face, staring at the tiny numbers next to the RSVP. Slowly and quietly, he took the phone from the wall and pressed the numbers.
The ringing in his ear seemed incredibly loud. He was scared it would wake his dad.
It kept ringing and ringing and ringing. He closed his eyes.
“ Hello ?”
Eugene’s eyes flew open.
“Hello,” he said, using his best grown up voice. “Is Liz home?”
“ Who is this? ”
“Eugene Thompson. I got to school with Liz.”
“This is very late to be calling, Eugene. Liz is in bed. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Oh -- no -- I have a late bed time. I don’t have to go to bed until -- very late.”
“I see. What did you want to tell Liz, Eugene?”
“I just wanted to tell her I can come to her party. To see The Lion King. ”
“Oh. Well. I’m glad, Eugene. I’ll make sure to let her know.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“ Good night. ”
“Good night, sir.”
Eugene carefully placed the phone back. He tiptoed into his bedroom where Jesse was still sleeping soundly. He climbed into bed and within only a moment, he was asleep.
-x-
“I’m going to the park,” Eugene told his mother. She didn’t respond, too busy trying to dress Jesse for the day, and so Eugene slipped out of the house, helmet already strapped to his head.
He unchained his bike. He’d gotten it for his fifth birthday and his dad taught him to ride last summer. Sometimes, when his dad got very angry, Eugene would remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around him right before he let go, the sound of his laughter when Eugene rode alone for the first time.
Eugene hopped on his bike and took off for Liz’s house, on the opposite end of Forrest Hills.
He knew he was there when he saw the balloons tied to the mailbox -- and the giant bounce house out front, shaped like a jungle with trees stretching into the sky and a monkey sitting on top. Eugene’s jaw dropped. It was so big. Just like the real jungle.
Slowly, he walked his bike up the driveway. There were already kids jumping up and down inside the bounce house and Eugene itched to go join them but he had to put down his present first. The door was open and Eugene walked in to see a huge pile of brightly wrapped presents, most of which were in huge boxes and bags, glistening under the sunlight that shone through the windows. Eugene looked down at his own present, wrapped in yesterday’s newspaper. He set it down on a box wrapped in Power Rangers wrapping paper.
“Well if it isn’t the little night owl.”
Eugene spun around to see Mr. Allan, standing very tall and in clothes that Eugene’s dad would have said made him look like he had a stick up his ass. Still, Eugene liked the way he smiled.
“Your mom and dad didn’t want to stop in to say hello?” asked Mr. Allan.
Eugene shook his head. “They had to go to work.’
“Well, that’s alright. I’ll just go get Liz.”
“You don’t have to!” said Eugene, not wanting Liz to be mad at him when he was still reeling that she invited him to her birthday.
But Mr. Allan was already striding towards the open door. Eugene blew out a breath and ran after him.
“Liz,” Mr. Allan said, poking his head into the flap of the bounce house. “Your friend Eugene is here.”
“Send him in!” came Liz’s voice and Eugene’s tummy erupted in butterflies.
“You heard the lady,” said Mr. Allan, grinning at Eugene.
Taking a deep breath, Eugene crawled into the bounce house. Eugene recognized pretty much everyone bouncing from school -- Kenny, who Eugene always liked, outgoing Sally who could do a cartwheel, smiley A.J, and Cindy, who had the best snacks and was able to beat the boys at arm-wrestling. And in the center of everyone was Liz Allan, wearing a pink party dress that shimmered like it had been dipped in glitter. Her shiny hair bounced in big barrel curls. Eugene thought she looked like a doll, or an angel.
“Hi, Eugene!” said Liz.
“Happy birthday, Liz,” said Eugene, his lips suddenly very dry. “Your dress is really pretty.” The other kids giggled and Eugene flushed. “I mean -- I just think it’s cool.”
But even as everyone laughed, Liz only smiled. “Thanks. Have you ever been in a bounce house?”
Eugene shook his head.
“That’s okay,” she said and she reached forward to grab his hand. And then she was leading him towards the middle of the bounce house where everything glowed green and Eugene was jumping up and down, just a little, and then a lot. This was basically the funnest thing ever and Liz laughed like she wasn’t afraid anyone would hear her and someone knocked into Eugene and he went stumbling into a mesh window but even that was fun. He didn’t feel stupid. He just felt silly.
Pressed up against the window, he could see Liz’s dad talking to a new family, and he recognized them: Peter Parker and his aunt and uncle. A sudden rush of nerves washed over Eugene. He hadn’t imagined what seeing Peter might be like again, too overcome with elation at even being invited. Peter’s hair was still messy, but neater too, like it had been thoroughly combed. He glanced over at the bounce house and Eugene looked away.
A minute later, Mr. Allan poked his head into the through the door flap. “Peter’s here. I’ll give you fifteen more minutes.”
Peter climbed into the bounce house and immediately began to bounce over to Liz like he had done this a million times before. Maybe he had. Maybe Eugene was the only person in the world who didn’t know how to use a dumb bounce house.
Liz hugged Peter and something unsettled itself within Eugene. As he bounced, he knocked into Peter. Peter stumbled backwards, catching himself before he fell. He scowled.
“What was that for?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
It surprised Eugene somehow, that Peter was looking at him so defiantly. It shouldn’t have.
“Sorry,” Eugene mumbled. “Accident.”
“Sure,” said Peter before bouncing towards Sally.
Eugene felt a flush of something bad in his tummy, watching Peter go, and it got worse when he saw the way Liz was frowning at him.
“It was an accident,” said Eugene.
“Okay,” said Liz and they kept bouncing until Mr. Allan came to get them. No one wanted to stop bouncing but when he reminded them that they were going to see The Lion King, they couldn’t leave fast enough.
Mr. Allan drove a van that had a big advertisement of his restaurant and catering services on the side and they all piled in with Mrs. Allan and Liz’s aunt. The presents were loaded in the back already and Eugene noticed Liz trying very hard not to look at them.
Peter noticed too. “What do you think you got?” he whispered, but Eugene could hear from the backseat.
“A pony,” said Liz, glancing over her shoulder and meeting Eugene’s eyes. She grinned and Eugene’s stomach swooped.
They parked in a private lot by Mr. Allan’s restaurant and then held hands with a grown up to walk the rest of the way to the movie theatre. Eugene was holding hands with Liz’s aunt and Kenny took her other hand. When everyone had been paired up, only Peter was left.
“You can hold my hand, Peter,” said Liz, who was holding her dad’s hand. Sally, from his other side, started giggling. Peter rolled his eyes in a big show but took Liz’s hand anyway.
As they approached the theater, Peter said, “Did you know this is the oldest theater in Queens?”
“That’s very interesting, Peter,” said Mr. Allan.
“Know-it-all,” Eugene muttered, though he wasn’t sure why. But Kenny laughed and that made Eugene feel good.
Inside the theater, there were a bunch of kids already sitting with their parents and even some teenagers. Mr. Allan led them to the fourth row that was specially reserved. Eugene ended up in between Kenny and Peter and he glanced forlornly at Peter’s other side where Liz sat, talking excitedly to Sally, Cindy, and A.J.
But as the lights went down and the sun rose on the screen, a hush settled over the theater. And Eugene had thought this was a movie about lions but suddenly there were cheetahs and rhinos and elephants and giraffes and it was unlike anything he’d ever seen. He felt like he was on a safari. Like he’d left Queens and gone across the world in the blink of an eye.
There was something about Simba, about his confidence, that Eugene loved. He laughed along with everyone else while Simba and Nala teased Zazu and when Simba sang “I’m gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware!” Eugene thought, Tell ‘em, Simba.
When the stampede started, it was like the whole theater shook. Eugene sat straighter in his chair, fighting to keep from screaming out at Simba to run. He breathed a sigh of relief when Mufasa showed up because Mufasa was the biggest and the strongest and would save him. But then Mufasa was climbing to safety, and Scar appeared, and Eugene didn’t understand. Scar was hurting him. Mufasa, who was a good guy. The best guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong. And then Scar let go -- let Mufasa fall back into the stampede with a wicked smile. Eugene couldn’t help his broken gasp.
As Simba crept up to Mufasa’s body, asking him to wake up, Eugene felt hot tears on his cheeks. It wasn’t fair. Mufasa had loved Simba so much. He was everything a dad should be. Why didn’t they get to be together?
A timid hand curled over his and Eugene looked over to see that it belonged to Peter. Peter was holding his hand. It was warm and gentle, but strong too, like he wanted Eugene to know it hadn’t been a mistake. Eugene’s eyes passed over Peter’s face, lit golden from the light of the film. He saw nothing but a quiet sadness as Peter watched the movie.
“ No one ever means for these things to happen,” said Scar. “But the king is dead. And if it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive.”
Eugene squeezed Peter’s hand, just once. Peter squeezed back. Just once.
Eugene didn’t let go until Nala had found Simba again. There was something about the lions frolicking past waterfalls, asking each other if they could feel the love tonight, that made holding hands too weird. Peter didn’t even seem to notice.
When Simba finally killed Scar and took his place on Pride Rock, Eugene was vibrating with excitement., like it was him standing up on that rock in the rain. He could practically feel the water beating his face.
He blinked against the awakening lights.
“That was the best movie ever!” Liz proclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I love Nala the most!”
“In a real lion pride, the dominant male would be the father of all the kids,” said Peter. “Simba and Nala are probably siblings.”
Liz gagged in disgust, making Peter smirk. As they all joined hands to walk back to the restaurant, Eugene thought about Peter holding his hand in the dark. Now Peter wasn’t even looking at him.
-x-
The restaurant was decked out in Lion King balloons and green and orange streamers. They ate pizza and were all super impressed with how Kenny managed to eat six slices. And then it was time for Liz to open her presents.
She gasped in happiness when she opened a t-shirt with a unicorn on it from A.J. Sally gave her a Barbie doll that came with a light up pegasus. From Cindy, she got the newest Mariah Carey CD and a box of snacks from the Korean market (Cindy always had the best snacks). Kenny gave her a squirt gun and Peter gave her a stuffed Simba.
“Oh, wait, I missed one!” said Liz, pulling Eugene’s newspaper wrapping from beneath a piece of sparkling tissue paper. She quickly pulled the paper off and out tumbled two strips of thread -- one pink and purple, one blue and orange. Liz held them up to examine them.
“They’re friendship bracelets,” said Eugene. “One’s actually for me. I made them so we could match.”
Eugene could hear Sally and A.J. whispering and giggling. He swallowed.
“Thank you, Eugene,” Liz said at last. “I love them. Do mine and I’ll do yours.”
Eugene felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he tied Liz’s bracelet on her wrist with a messy bow and she made quick work of his.
“Friends forever,” said Liz, her mouth in a little crescent moon smile that made Eugene feel invincible.
Mr. Allan brought out the cake, which was decorated like a jungle and had little toy Lion King characters on it. There was so much frosting on each piece. Eugene wished he could bring some home to Jessie.
“You have frosting on your nose,” said Cindy.
Eugene stuck out his tongue to try and lick the frosting off, making everyone laugh. Peter just rolled his eyes and reached over to wipe the frosting from Eugene’s nose himself. Eugene let him, unsure why he felt so light and so heavy all at once, like a balloon with a weight tied to its string.
-x-
When they got back to Liz’s place, they kept bouncing until parents started showing up. A.J.’s dad came first, and then Kenny’s mom, and Cindy’s mom, and Sally’s older sister. When Peter’s Uncle Ben strolled up to the bounce house, Peter smiled the brightest that Eugene had ever seen him smile.
“Uncle Ben!” Peter yelled, launching himself through the bounce house door flaps and into Ben’s arms. Ben swung him around, laughing.
“You enjoy the movie, kiddo?”
“Oh, yeah!” said Peter. “Even though it was vaguely incestuous!”
They walked back the way Ben had come, swinging hands between them. Neither of them looked back, and that was fine. There was no reason to look back.
Eugene felt his legs give way beneath him and he bounced on his butt.
“Are your parents coming soon?” asked Liz, twirling in the middle. “It’s getting late. Did they forget you?”
“No,” said Eugene, staring at the way the sunlight filtered through the mesh windows and made the green rubber shine gold. “I rode my bike here.”
“Do you need me to get my dad?”
Eugene shook his head.
“Okay,” said Liz, bouncing onto her knees. She crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you for the bracelet, Eugene.”
Liz pulled back, only to kiss him softly on one cheek and then the other. Eugene lifted his hands to his face, feeling the heat of the skin she’d touched.
“That’s how they kiss in France,” said Liz.
“Cool,” said Eugene.
-x-
Eugene felt like he was flying as he rode his bike. The wind rushed against him, cooling his face. The sunset cast everything in rosy tints.
As he biked up to his house, he noticed the silhouettes of his parents through a window. Eugene dropped his bike and ran through the unlocked front door.
Eugene’s mother and father turned to look at him. The house smelled like an ashtray.
“Eugene,” said Mom, running to envelope him in a hug. “Jesus, where have you been?”
“I . . . I was . . .”
“Spit it out, kid,” said Dad around his cigarette.
Eugene swallowed. “I went to Liz’s birthday party.”
The only thing Eugene could hear was the ragged breath of his father puffing out smoke.
“Eugene,” said Mom at last. Her eyes were glassy and red, but he couldn’t tell it was from crying or the ash. “You know your father said you couldn’t go.”
Eugene nodded.
“So why did you go?”
“Because I wanted to,” said Eugene.
“I think you should go to your room, Rose,” said Dad.
“Harrison, just let me --,”
“Get out.”
She hung her head. And then she stood.
“Mommy . . .” Eugene whispered.
Mom ran a hand over Eugene’s hair. “Your father knows best,” she said and then she was retreating to her own room. The soft click of the door seemed to echo as if they were standing in the middle of a cave filled with nothing and not their own home.
“Come here, Eugene,” said Dad.
Eugene stared at him. In the dim light, the glow of his cigarette reminded Eugene of the fight between Simba and Scar, the way they roared and clawed at each other even as the entire savannah burned.
“Eugene. Now.”
“I’m gonna be a mighty king,” Eugene whispered to himself. “So enemies beware.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing, sir,” he said, and stepped forward into the smoke.