Free 13 by Jason Robert Brown Page A

have parents who won’t take them to see some stupid R-rated movie, then I suppose we’ll just have to take matters into our own hands.”
    â€œOh?” I say.
    Mom takes my hand. “We’ll make sure everyone gets into the movie, easiest thing in the world. Then I’ll get lost—like I wasn’t even there, okay?”
    The smile has to be carefully chosen here. You cannot smile triumphantly; you must smile with simple, radiant gratitude.
    â€œDo you mean it, Mom? After all I’ve put you through, you would do that for me?”
    She kisses me on the cheek. “Do your homework, kiddo. Dinner’s in an hour.” She turns to go. She opens the door.
    Wait for it. Wait for it.
    â€œIn fact,” she says, “I’ll even buy the tickets!”
    Â 
    And that is how we all got to The Bloodmaster on Friday night.

10
    ON FRIDAY Mom really came through. She drove me to the mall, nodded “Hi” to Brett and the kids, marched up to the ticket booth, and bought seven tickets—her treat, just like she had promised, then walked us into the theater.
    â€œHave fun!”
    With a quick wave, she turned back to her car.
    You should’ve seen it. I was high-fived, back-slapped, and congratulated like I had just completed a solo climb up Everest. I had done it! Made everything right! Now everyone would come to my bar mitzvah. When Brett threw his arm around my shoulder, I felt almost giddy.
    â€œWhoa, Brain,” he said. “Your mom rules!”
    â€œThanks, Brett buddy.”
    Moments later, Brett, Eddie, Fudge, and I were loaded down with popcorn, soda, and candy, while Kendra and Lucy took a sprint to the bathroom.
    â€œYo, Brett!” Eddie said. “Front two rows are open!”
    As it turned out, every row was open. I guess The Bloodmaster wasn’t high on most people’s must-see list. The place was empty.
    â€œCome on!” Fudge said, and marched down the aisle.
    Things were going well, right? But it turned out I was in for my own private horror movie that night. The minute my butt hit my seat, I heard her.
    â€œHey, Evan.”
    I had never really believed that Patrice would bother to come. And if she did decide to come, I didn’t think she’d get in. But there she was, suddenly in the seat right behind me, with a copy of The Hours .
    â€œOh,” I said. “You got in, I guess.”
    â€œMy cousin works concessions,” she said. “He snuck us in the emergency exit.”
    â€œUs?” I said, turning.
    Patrice was half smiling, like she couldn’t wait tosee my expertly planned evening get blown to bits.
    â€œThat’s right,” Patrice said. “Archie figured it was easier than trying to convince his mom to walk us in.”
    I had hoped that Archie would just chicken out. He had spent the last two days on my case morning, noon, and night, asking me what to wear, what to say, how to act. It was like I was suddenly his personal life coach. The night before, he had dropped by Pam’s house unannounced.
    â€œYeah?” I said, when I opened the door.
    Archie didn’t waste any time. “I imagine you’ve noticed that I have a very powerful, very masculine smell.”
    I just stared at him sort of blankly.
    â€œEven so,” he went on. “I think my natural musk should be highlighted with cologne. What do you prefer? Brut or Old Spice?”
    I was so weirded out that I mumbled something about homework and shut the door in his face. Did that stop Archie? Not even close. Later that night as I was struggling to learn my haftorah, he called.
    â€œI’ve been making out with my pillow!”
    I nearly dropped the phone. “You what?”
    â€œYou know, pretending it’s Kendra. For when I plant the tongue later. Can you give me a few tips?”
    â€œOh, my god!” I shrieked, and hung up.
    Thankfully, I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. In my heart, I hoped