Genisis

1. Genesis

The outside view of Bobby? It was semi-sacrilegious. He was like Jesus. A savior. A martyr with boyish charm. But really, he was just a teenage boy I became friends with during Jimmy Fraiser’s eighth birthday party when he kicked my ass at Nintendo. By the time we were seventeen and the new millennium had commenced, we were walking headfirst into bigger things than Jimmy Fraiser and cooties. However, he still kicked my ass at video games.

"Watch it Peterson, I'm about to rub your nose in all my glory!” said Bobby Geiger on a typical Saturday afternoon we wasted away playing a cheap racing game on Xbox and practically eating everything in my house that contained trans fats.
He was a fairly tall boy with an average build; but to say he was average in any other sense was a severe understatement. He had a glinting, million-dollar smile and an invigorating laugh that seemed to lure people to him. He had a renowned pierced lip and black hair which fell over his piercing emerald green eyes. All the girls in my grade had a thing for Bobby’s eyes. Who am I kidding, all the girls in my school adored Bobby as a whole. Bobby knew everything about everything. If someone ever tried to prove him wrong, he would never admit it. I guess people found his careless and stubborn manner attractive. They practically drooled puddles in worship and awe of his iconic presence whenever he strolled down the halls.
I wasn’t really on that bandwagon.
He punched me playfully in the arm, "I beat you once again!" I watched my once vibrantly blue race car burn in shambles on the side of the pixilated race track while Bobby’s car, with dazzling flames on the sides, sped victoriously past the finish line.
"I'll get you next time, Geiger!" I exclaimed in defeat. Though I knew it was hopeless, since I only beat him twice at the game, and I think he was drunk on one instance.
"So, Sam, who are you taking to the Halloween dance?" he inquired out of nowhere. Bobby was notorious for asking personal questions that I didn't want to answer. And my two cents on Halloween? It’s not everyday you experience an atmosphere filled with people acting as something that they’re not, holding up masks that shield the outside world from knowing who they really are. Or is it?
"I don’t know if I'm going to that...."
Bobby furrowed his brows and got up from the marvelously comfortable bean bag chair. He turned off the Xbox.
"Why not? It's gonna be fuckin awesome!" Bobby liked to curse. I didn't.
"That kind of thing is your scene, Bobby. I'd rather gag myself with a spoon then go to another one of our stupid dances."
He looked in the mirror beside my TV and winked at himself while he tried to slick back his hair, but failed as the tips met his eyes. It was obvious that he knew he was the ideal.
I guess I was considered somewhat admired too, but only because Bobby was my best friend. Not because I was an acceptable photographer, or and inarguably awesome ping-pong champion. No, in fact I don't think I was astounding at all. It was not because of how I looked. I looked a lot like Bobby. My chestnut brown hair swept over my face. I wore clothing that you bought ripped. I had a nose piercing. But I didn't really have the attitude. I wasn't stubborn and outgoing. I was awkward and withdrawn.
Bobby knew what he wanted and he would always try and get it. I just let life happen to me. I was weak. I was a push over. I was just Sam. It was very likely that whenever someone saw Sam Peterson, they only thought of Bobby Geiger.
"Come on Sam. You're a lady's man too. In fact, someone told me that Valerie Anderson asked you out."
Let me introduce you to my lyrical wit: Valerie Anderson was class president. Valerie Anderson was rich. Valerie Anderson was a first class swimmer. Valerie Anderson was a fake bitch. Amen.
"I said no."
Bobby gave me a surprised look. Though, I didn't know why. He knew how much I hated dating. Eating a gnome sized dinner with a bubbly girl, trying to figure out what to say, when to say it, and how to say it while simultaneously trying to fill an awkward silence, wasn’t my forte. Not that I ever wanted it to be.
"You said what?! Why would you ever do that? Have you seen her in a swimsuit?! Have you gone off the deep end?! No pun intended…” Bobby wasn't much of a romantic.
"Why don't you go with her?"
"Can't, I'm taking Lauren McCann"
Lauren McCann was captain of the girl's soccer team. Lauren McCann had long shiny red hair and big....you know what's. Lauren McCann threw the best parties. Lauren McCann was an alcoholic. That one didn’t have very good rhythm, but hey, isn’t that what the true tearjerkers are? They are the ones that aren’t ideal, right? This is the misunderstood haiku, not Every Rose Has Its Thorn. But what do I know…
"Right. I almost forgot." I totally forgot.
"Why are you so anti-social, Sammy boy?" I hated when he called me that.
"I'm not anti-social. I just don't like dances."
Actually, I was both. I didn't particularly like the people at my school, nor did I ever like associating with them. They all just liked playing mind games with each other to amuse themselves because beneath it all they lead dull, unfulfilling lives. Perhaps I wasn’t so different from them, but at least I knew that I was pathetic. I was a waste of oxygen and organic material.
The only person I thought was true was Bobby even though Bobby actually hung out with these people. It's not his fault though. Bobby just liked to talk and be noticed. He glorified attention.
"Is this about Angie?” Angie Teresio was my ex-girlfriend. Angie Teresio was Bobby's ex-friend. Angie Teresio used people. I think you can see where this is going. Her full name was Angelica, and many people used to see her as the core of her name suggested. But after what happened between her and Bobby it became obvious that she was Mary Magdalene, the slut, not Mary the virgin.
It wasn't about Angie, but I had to say something to get Bobby off my back. "It's just going to be awkward with her there."
He sighed and changed the subject. Now, if only Angie went to all those other parties that Bobby dragged me to; I would have an everlasting excuse.
"Are you still coming to my Halloween party?" I didn't want to go, but it was Bobby’s. I had to go.
"Yeah." Bobby grinned and patted me hard on the back. I smiled.
"Good. My party would be nothing without Sam the Man there."
I hated when he called me that too, but the smile didn't leave my face. Bobby made me feel like something. To other people I was nothing more than Bobby's best friend. But to Bobby, I was Sam Peterson. I was my own person.
"You think people won’t come because it's on Halloween?" He said ominously.
"Bobby, it's your party. Everyone's coming." He slouched on the bean bag chair beside me.
He snickered and tried to blow his hair out of his face. "I'm gonna keep it fresh. Everyone will be talking about it until Christmas.”
I had to warn him because his party was going to be a crucifixion. I knew it would be, even before I experienced it.
"Sorry to break it to you, but Halloween parties have been around forever."
A smile carved its way across Bobby's face, "Oh yes, but I haven't." Bobby had a way of saying a lot when saying so little.
"What about your parents?"
Bobby didn't have the most functional family. They sounded normal enough though. His sister was Jillian. She was a senior, and a model one at that. If there was an award at our school, Jillian probably attained it. Bobby's frail mother, Regina, owned a coffee house. It was a very smooth running business, but ironically, the coffee was the only thing there that tasted like crap. Bobby's father, Hank, was a very large police officer with a buzz cut and biceps busting out of his sleeves. On the surface, the Geiger family was your typical small town family.
But once you break down the façade of lies brick by brick, like I had done over the years, you begin to realize that the Geiger family put on a play for the world to see. And backstage, the seemingly flawless Jillian liked to fool around with my fellow juniors at Westwood High. They practically passed her around like she was one of their own stupid basketballs. She was also known for running high stakes poker games every Thursday night at the local park. Her perfectly polished nails didn’t give themselves a manicure you know.
Jillian didn’t pay Bobby much attention, as she had more important things on her agenda. Like the spring play, and the next chicken party. I remember when Bobby used to be protective of Jill. When he used to wipe the powder from her nose and call her clean. But Jill was not something you can sweep under the rug. She was like acid.
I remember when Bobby gave up on her: When she fucked a guy that was ten years older than her, Bobby’s SAT tutor, really fucking Bobby up in the process. One more pun before you move on? Bobby wasn’t the only one who scored low in that situation. Jill got crabs. Bobby got impatient. Who would’ve thought that standardized testing could be so sadistic?
Bobby’s dangerously thin mother was a different sort of problem. She was always on some sort of medication; but she wasn't sick, if you know what I mean. Whenever I came over to Bobby’s house or stopped by the coffee house, she was always popping in a different pill than the day before. And whenever she handed me a muffin, or a piece of apple pie, or a white chocolate mocha, I always felt her hands shaking from the other end. I guess Bobby sort of felt it too, but he did nothing about it. How was he supposed to stop doing something that was excusable? She was despondent and reserved and that was no surprise considering who she was married to.
Hank was a brute, and fixed all off his problems by exploiting his physicality at home. He towered over Regina like a tidal wave and struck hard whenever meat was overcooked or socks weren’t clean. I remember sleeping over at Bobby’s house when I was ten and waking up to Regina’s crying as Hank threw plates onto the kitchen floor because they were piling up and Bobby hadn’t touched them yet. I heard him call Bobby worthless and disgraceful. But I never heard a word from Mrs. Geiger’s mouth. After that, Bobby always slept over at my house.
Bobby didn't like to talk about it, but I knew the ramifications of his every action. Although he was a maverick, I knew Bobby wasn't stupid enough to have a party with his dad home.
"They're going to Connecticut to visit my aunt. An empty house is just begging for a party, isn't it?"
"What about Jill?"
"What about Jill? It's not like she'll tell on me. She'll just join the party." Bobby made me anxious. I didn't really know what to say, though. He was right.
"You are coming, right?"
"Of course…absolutely.” I said. He patted my back.
“Good. Now, shall we proceed with me kicking your ass at Xbox…again?”