That moment when you have an idea for another kleinsen fanfic but you aren't even done with the first one and you're not a good multitasker.

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"So Alana called me last night and mentioned something about a Halloween Dance?" Mrs. Murphy said a few moments after we sat down.

I'ma be completely honest with you, with all the shit going on I kinda forgot all about the Halloween dance, and it was only a week away.

Judging by the look on Evan's face, he forgot too, and he was not happy about it.

"Yep." I said, "Gonna be on the 28. Knowing Alana, she'll probably have all the decorations done by tomorrow."

"I'm in charge of refreshments..." Evan mumbled, as if he was reminding himself.

"Yep! And I'm in charge of advertising! 'Cause how are we gonna get the cah-ching cah-ching if no one knows it even exists!" I laughed at my own plainly stupid joke.

"That's nice." Mrs. Murphy replied. "It still overwhelms me that you guys are willing to do so much just to bring back Connor's orchard. You're just so kind."

"Thanks, we're just trying to do what we can." Evan replied almost immediately. I couldn't bring myself to reply to that, though, out of guilt. Since, you know, big lie?

I start to regret joining this more every minute.

"Have you guys thought of costumes?" Zoe intervened, trying to steer the topic away from Connor.

I didn't exactly have a perfect idea of the costume, but I knew the gist of what I was gonna do. "I'ma be a ceiling fan!" I said, standing up and posing dramatically.

"A... ceiling fan?" Zoe questioned.

"Ah, my poor, naïve Zoe." I started, sitting back down. "You do now understand the ways of Jared Kleinman just yet. Don't worry, small one, because within time, you will see."

There was a brief silence before Zoe said, "I literally have no idea what the fuck you just said."

I shook my head, "Within time, little one... within time."

"Jared cut the faux wisdom stuff." Evan said, smiling.

"Mmm someday, someday in time, these inexperienced brats will see their true destiny." I said, trying hard not to smile.

Evan laughed, and I had to restrain myself from laughing along with him. I'm sorry, but Evan's laugh is kinda fricking adorable.

"What about you, Evan?" Zoe asked, turning to face Evan as she picked at her microwaved turkey. It was clear to me, just by the was Zoe looked at Evan, that she still fancied him. Part of me wondered it Zoe would still like him if she knew what he's doing. How loyal really are you?

"Ehh..." Evan rubbed the back of his neck, "Haven't thought of one yet." He said, before stuffing a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. I knew he was just trying to avoid conversation about his Halloween costume. Evan hasn't dressed up since 4th grade. I didn't expect him to dress up this year, but who knows?

"You can be a tree." I said, pointing my fork at Evan, "It suits you."

"What? No!" Evan laughed through the mashed potatoes that were still in his mouth.

Zoe passed him a napkin and laughed, "That's disgusting, Evan. Don't talk with your mouth full."

The three of us laughed, and, I gotta say, it kinda felt like a typical Senior Year moment. Three friends eating microwaved meals at a table, speaking with their mouths full.

Our laughing died down and we were silent for a moment before Zoe spoke up. "I'm gonna go as Ginny."

"Ginny Weasley?" I asked. Evan shot me a curious look. He's never read Harry Potter, that moron. Like, who hasn't read Harry Potter?

Zoe nodded, "She's my favorite character."

"See, I took you more as a Ron. Dumb and arrogant."

Zoe flicked a piece of turkey at me. "No!" She said laughing.

I flashed her a smile and said, "I wasn't joking." In response, Zoe got out of her chair to get the piece of turkey, and then threw it back at me.

"Enough." Mr. Murphy boomed. "There's already been enough food fights in this house with you and Connor. I don't need an additional."

I immediately felt guilty. The idea of a food fight hurt this family.

Us three children sat in a shameful silence, continuing to stare down at our plates and eating, before Evan said, "What's a Ginny?" To which Zoe and I burst out in laughter.

"I've never seen you as a very geeky type." Zoe said to me, ignoring Evan's question.

I shrugged. "Harry Potter's cool." I said simply. I didn't want ti be seen as a geek, even though that's probably the easiest way to describe me sometimes.

"Oh Harry Potter!" Evan said, finally realizing what we were talking about.

Just then, his phone pinged.

"Oh now your phone's on!" I said jokingly.

"Alana just sent me a list of things to get for the dance." He said, ignoring my pester. "'Fruit punch, doctor pepper, sprite, lays potato chips, lays... sALT AND VINEGAR?!'"

"Ewwww!" Both him and Zoe expressed at the same time.

I stared at them in disbelief, "You don't like salt and vinegar chips?"

"They taste like sea water!" Zoe yelled.

"They taste like a seagulls' doodoo!" Evan yelled.

I smirked, "How do you know what that tastes like?" I asked, and Evan slammed his head on the table in result.

"Guys you can say you're a little... salty." I said, which earned another head slam from Evan.

"Do you need help picking up things for the dance? I could come and help you out?" Zoe offered. Yeah, she definitely still had the hots for him.

"N-no, I'm fine." He said, lifting his head off the table. "I can do it alone."

My heart dropped, for some reason. I guess somewhere in my brain, I was hoping I could help Evan with refreshments.

"You sure?" I said, and Zoe glared at me. Jealous. Evan nodded slowly before blinking four times in a row.

Happiness immediately ran through me. As children, Evan and I had developed a little lying system, thanks to my brilliant 4 year old brain. Blinking, basically meant, "Yea I'm totally not meaning what I'm saying." We used it a lot. Like, for years. Until high school started, actually. He'd say he'd need to go to the bathroom, before blinking 4 times, and I would know that he just wanted time away from his parents.

There was this one time, at Ellison park when we were like 7, when he told his parents he was going to pick up litter, before blinking and letting me know he wanted me to come, too.

That was the day he told me he was diagnosed with social anxiety.

"Jared, I need to tell you something." He'd said once we were far away enough from the tree our parents were talking under. His voice was really squeaky back then. Wait a minute, it still is squeaky.

"You tell me things on like a daily basis." I replied. This was my sense of humor back then, kids. Take notes, and don't repeat history for me.

"Uh, well... this is like really important." He fiddled with his hair, which he did more as a kid than he does now. Now he plays with the hem of his shirt and bites his nails. Back then it was all about hair twirling.

"Oh." Was all I could muster. As a kid, see, I had had more friends, and I didn't like to think of Evan as my "best" friend. Maybe that's where the whole "family friend" thing came from after I started plummeting on the popularity scale. I didn't know if Evan was supposed to tell me important things if I wasn't his best friend.

I was 7, can you blame me?

"Jared... I... Can't make friends." He said, his eyes tearing up a bit.

I stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing, "Of course you can make friends!" I said, "Everyone can!"

"The doctor's said I couldn't."

That got my 7 year old attention. What ever doctors say go. At least for a 7 year old. But I didn't really understand. How could someone not make friends? It was impossible.

I pulled Evan behind a tree so our parents wouldn't question where we were. I pulled him down so we were sitting beside each other.

Evan continued crying, "I can't make friends, Jared! I get scared and my hands get watery and I start tearing up and thinking of things they won't like about me."

I shushed him, but he wouldn't quiet.

"The doctors even said it might be hard for me to speak to people! The doctors, Jared!" He kept crying, and, as a 7 year old, I didn't know to react.

I took his little hand. "Pardon my language," I said, "But those fricking doctors can tell themselves to shut the frick up." Evan smiled through tears. He used to like it when i 'cussed'. Our parents would always yell at me if I used the word frick around them, but for some reason Evan enjoyed it. "You can make friends if you want to make friends. What do those doctors know!"

"I don't know..." Evan said, staring at his lap, hand still in mine, "Everytime I try to make friends, I just feel like I'm doing something wrong. Like I'm not supposed to make friends."

"Do you want to make friends?" I asked.

"I- Maybe not... It just kinda hurts..." He responded,  tears still flowing.

"You don't have to make friends if you don't want to." I said, my tone still casual. I still wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to be doing.

"Mommy says I should make more friends."

I paused for a moment, before forcing him to look at me. In the eye. "If you don't want to make friends, you don't have to." I said softly, before smiling, "You have me!"

Evan smiled and jumped onto me, hugging me tight. "You're my favorite person, Jared!" He squeaked. I had smiled and hugged him back.

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dAWWWWWWWWWWWW
im legit squealing.
7 y/o fluff moments y'all.

(you have no idea how hard it was for me not to make it gayer. needed them to look like best friends, not gay lovers)

Published: 8/3/19
Word Count: 1738