tonight?”
“I don’t know. Chillin’, I guess.”
“It’s going down to five below tonight. You’ll be chillin’ all right.”
“It never gets this cold in Corpus Christi. My friends at home are out on the river with their sailboats.”
“Awesome. You got a boat?”
“Not of my own, but I can use my uncle’s any time I want. I’m a good sailor. Maybe as good as you are on a sled. You ever been sailing?” Julio asked.
“No, not really. The only boat I’ve been on is one of those tour boats on the river.”
“Well, if it ever warms up around here and that dirty thing you call a river downtown ever melts, I’ll take you on a virgin sailing trip.”
“Sounds good to me. I like virgin anything!” Ben chuckled. “So what’s it like in Corpus Christi?”
“It’s, well, different. Different colors, landscape, feels, smells. It’s hard to explain.”
“I feel you. It’s like me and my hair. Different. What kind of name is Montague anyway? You Spanish or Greek or what?”
“My family is from Mexico, but Montague is an Italian name. Some Italian count, hundreds of years ago, who was running away from trouble with some king, ended up in Mexico, got married there, and it has been our family name ever since.”
“That’s deep—that you can trace your family back that far. My dad passes through from time to time, so it’s just me and my mom and my sister and my jars of hair dye, which I do
not
let my sister use. Mom lets me do what I need to. She’s really cool, but I’d never tell her,” Ben admitted.
“My parents are great, but uptight. Rules. Manners. Proper ways of doing everything. Family tradition.”
“That’s gotta be tough. I don’t think I even know what’s a proper way to do anything.”
“Come to my house. My father will let you know,” Julio assured him.
“What would he say about my hair?” Ben asked.
“Oh, it would shock his socks off! It would be worth it just to see the expression on his face.”
“We’re going to have to do that one day. But wait till I make it bright red and put it in spikes!”
“Spikes? How do you do that?” asked Julio.
“It’s easy—Elmer’s glue! Washes out easy. Freaks out the adults.”
Julio laughed. “I like your style, Ben. Maybe you can help me find a job here.”
“What you want to do?”
“Anything for extra money, but I’d really like a job at a TV station or something.”
“Ladies and gentlemen: Here is the six o’clocknews. Nothing happened today, so tomorrow has been canceled. Film at eleven.”
“Ben, you’re crazy. No, get me straight now—I don’t want to be one of those cheese-grinning reporters—I want to be the man who makes them look good,” admitted Julio.
“Nice job, if you like cables and cameras. Then, when you get famous, you can make movies! Lights! Action! Quiet on the set! Montague is making another movie! A nine-hundred-billion-dollar blockbuster!”
“I like your vision, man. Hey, you got E-mail? I did get to bring my computer when we moved. That helps, because I can still talk to a couple of kids through the Internet.”
“Yeah, I love it, man! I love making up names and identities and telling strangers trash about me!”
“You make stuff up?” Julio asked incredulously.
“You tell the truth?” Ben responded with the same amount of surprise. Both laughed.
“Yeah, but I don’t have to worry about what I look like or what they think of me,” Julio added. “I can always erase what I type and do it over or make it right. In real life, there’s only one chance to make a good impression.”
“But, see, I don’t
care
if I make a good impression. Actually, I hope I don’t! It’s more fun that way!”
“You got spice, man.”
“And you got potential, Julio, my friend.”
“I hate being the new kid.”
“Hang with me, and you won’t be new for long. Might ruin your reputation, but since you ain’t gotone yet, who cares! Gotta go, dude. Check you out
Steph Campbell, Liz Reinhardt