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The Henkels move away. It’s a bit sad not to have the wild neighbors anymore, the ones that pull out the best fireworks every July 4th, but it’s also a relief not to be privy to their kid’s impromptu saxophone concerts anymore.
That all fades as a moving truck pulls up next week.
"He's cute, don’t you think Jess?" Erica says as she peeks through the window blinds of their living room. Her chin is stacked on Jessica's head, while Jessica hovers over Jackie.
“Look at his hair!” Jessica says.
“He looks so strong,” Erica swoons.
“But his adorable puppy!” Jackie points to the yorkie running around his feet.
Patrick looks up from the open fridge and squints at his sisters crowded around the window. “Who are you talking about?”
Erica peels her face off of the glass and turns to him with an excited look on her face. “The new neighbors are moving in. And he’s really hot.”
“You’re 16, what do you know,” Patrick scoffs.
“So are you,” Erica shoots back.
Patrick rolls his eyes, wanting to tack on that he’d probably be a better judge than them based on his preferences, but that’s a conversation for another day. He stalks over, going on his tip-toes to look over Erica.
Good god, his ass. His hair, strength, whatever don’t compare. It doesn’t even fit in the view between the blinds. Patrick has to move over to the next blind to the left to take a complete look at the new neighbor, just in time to see him squat down to pick up a coffee table, hauling it over his head.
Patrick’s mouth goes dry as he tracks the way his thighs flex against the seams of his shorts. The four of them stay like that, watching the neighbor, his parents, and who was presumably his little brother move what seems like the entire house from the truck.
Finally, he takes a seat on the curb, brushing the sweat off of his brow and staring into the distance—straight at the Kane residence. Patrick’s sisters squeal in surprise and duck down, leaving Patrick standing as a lone figure in the window.
“Guys,” Patrick hisses at them, but it’s too late. He whips his head back up to make eye contact with the new neighbor and hesitantly waves.
The neighbor’s eyes widen a bit, arm paused mid-wipe, and he waves back. He has the goofiest, crooked grin that scrunches his nose.
What the hell. He’s charming too.
****
"But mom," Patrick says, and it comes out more of a whine than he'd like.
"We've already gone to meet them last week, but you were apparently too busy with your friends, so you should go over to greet them now. I wanted to repay Andree for that meal, anyway, so here," she hands him the pyrex of her signature lasagna and pushes him out the door.
He makes his way across the street with the dish in hand and rings the doorbell. He hopes that nobody is home, but the door swings open and suddenly the Hot Neighbor is staring at him. He thrusts the lasagna forward like a peace offering.
“Hi, uh. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
He raises an eyebrow at Patrick and grins. “Thank you…”
Patrick blinks and awkwardly sticks out his hand. “Patrick.”
“Thanks, Patrick, I’m Jonny,” he says and takes Patrick’s hand, and wow, Patrick will definitely be revisiting this moment in the not-so-distant future. Jonny. It fits him. He hears a bark and looks down to see the yorkie behind Jonny’s legs, tail wagging furiously. Jonny immediately brightens and lets go of Patrick’s hand—he didn’t realize they were still holding hands until then—to scoop the little dog up.
“Patrick, this is Betsey. Betsey, this is Patrick,” Jonny says as he slightly gestures the yorkie towards him. Patrick melts at the sight and sound of Jonny's high-pitched voice directed at her.
“Nice to meet you, Betsey,” he plays along and reaches out to scratch behind her ears. She immediately looks up, trying to lick his hands, and he tries so hard not to flinch and pull back his hand. He’s not really a dog person, or an animal person for that matter, but that could be subject to change.
“She’s cute,” he says, looking back up at Jonny.
Jonny’s grin widens. “Thanks, man,” he says with obvious pride. Patrick carefully avoids staring too much. He better leave before he does something stupid.
“Well, I better get back, but it was nice to finally meet you,” Patrick tries to smile back, but he feels a bit manic. He thinks it's warm enough, considering Jonny’s brilliant grin doesn’t falter through their exchange.
“Likewise, see you around, Pat,” and just hearing his name, spoken by a person like that has short-circuited him beyond repair. He turns to walk back to the safety of the Kane residence before he’s even finished his wave.
Patrick does catch a glimpse of Jonny waving goodbye with Betsey’s little paw.
****
It's a weekend thing. Andree and Jonny spruce up the lawn that was left unkempt by the Henkels. Dandelions and crabgrass had invaded the entire yard between the patches of dirt, but under the watchful eye of the Toews’, it has transformed into a verdant lawn, with stepping stones lining the path to the porch and lined neatly manicured bushes and delicate perennials.
Patrick’s rollerblades suddenly see a lot more concrete than they have for quite a while once he figures out Jonny’s gardening schedule. His mother raises an eyebrow at him as he shuffles downstairs and sits on the front stairwell to buckle up his skates one early, early Saturday morning.
“Well, aren’t you an early bird today?”
His only response is to rub his eyes blearily and mumble something about practice. Of course Jonny would be a morning person.
They pass the rest of summer in this fashion: Jonny toils away in his garden, and Patrick messes around on his rollerblades with his stick in hand, practicing drills and trick shots. If he always looks Jonny’s way after executing a particularly slick move, well, nobody’s the wiser. Especially since he’s never seen Jonny looking his way either.
****
Patrick casually looks through the front window on the first day of school (no I’m not spying on him, Jackie) when he sees Jonny bend down to pet Betsey goodbye before leaving his house. His heart sinks at the sight of him sporting the private school’s uniform—pleated khakis and crisp navy blue polo with the embroidered logo.
All of his plans, oh-so carefully formulated over the summer, go down the drain. Catching up to Jonny at the bus stop, the casual conversation inevitably leading up to oh, I go to that school too! Perhaps Jonny would ask him (him!) if they could sit together on the bus, and then they would be crammed way too close into a seat—Sharpy can sit somewhere else. Showing him around campus, having the same classes, doing homework after school together in Patrick’s room...
He sighs and heaves his backpack over his shoulder before leaving his own house, trudging in the direction of the bus stop, opposite the way Jonny went.
Patrick thought that the coming winter chill would bring an end to the weekend garden projects, but now apparently the focus has shifted to halloween decor. The Toews may not have been much for July 4th—understandably so—but this was the first holiday for them to show their true potential.
He thought it was just a meme, a tweet, the 12-foot skeleton from Home Depot, until he sees it right outside his window, looming over the Toews’ house. Upon closer inspection, he shouldn’t be surprised to see an army of smaller skeleton gremlins marching in a circle around their illustrious leader.
Any stray trace of mourning that Patrick has for the Henkels’ lost fireworks collection disappears as he slows down in front of their house on his way home from school, mouth slightly parted in awe at the impressive display of cobwebs and tombstones scattered around the yard. They’re carefully arranged in a way that avoids the flowers, he notes amusedly.
He seems to notice something new everyday. The uncomfortably large, furry spider right over the doorway. The rotting zombie arm dangling from the number 2 of their address, the eerie decapitated heads hanging from the trees like ornaments, and caution tape wrapped around their porch.
****
Sure, Patrick knew that Halloween was coming up. But with school, practice, and silently pining after Jonny, he hadn’t realized just how soon it was until he steps onto the school bus to see Sharpy dressed as Indiana Jones.
He books it after school to the nearest shopping center and triumphantly returns home with a pretty solid costume, if he says so himself.
“You’re not going out like that, are you?”
“Yeth. I’m a vampire, thee?” Patrick swooshes his cape behind him and points to the plastic fangs in his mouth, but Erica only shakes her head in disapproval.
“I can hear that, but come here,” she waves him over to her desk, the flowy sleeves of her white toga fluttering.
Patrick reluctantly sits down, fanning his rayon cape behind him so it won’t wrinkle.
“Alright, close your eyes, Patty,” Erica says, and he feels powder splatter all over his face.
He doesn’to open them again until she’s done anyways. He reels back as he feels something lining his eyes and pulling on his lashes, then something sticky on his lips, but he hopes that’s just blood for effect.
He could pass as a powdered donut by the time Erica’s done. With even the slightest smile he can see it sprinkling onto his black t-shirt.
Erica sighs. “Where did you get this costume from again?”
“Party Thity.”
“Why am I not surprised.” She casts a critical glance over his wrinkled cape but apparently deems it as acceptable before shepherding him out of the house.
It seems like he’s cool enough to join her and her friends out trick-or-treating. Of course, the first house they want to stop by is Jonny’s. At night it’s even more spectacular—the strobe lights, the fog machine.
Patrick jumps at the recorded mechanical evil laughter responding to the doorbell. Erica’s friends all giggle and shift eagerly. She’s been telling them the entire time they’ve gotten ready how they’re in for such a treat.
Patrick can’t help but feel a tad—he doesn’t want to call it jealous, but Jonny is his neighbor after all. He grips his jack o'lantern basket in anticipation for Jonny to open the door, hearing Betsey yapping away on the other side.
“Trick or—” the girls behind him shout until they start bursting out in laughter. Patrick dares to look up—he’s thought about this before. What if Jonny decided to dress up as Wolverine, how dashing that would be, or maybe as a Mountie. He thinks red would suit Jonny well.
He takes his chance, peering up, and indeed he sees red.
A red leaf, painted—no, tainting—Jonny’s face. His more-than-fine body hidden by a cumbersome cardboard cutout, wider than his door. The Canadian flag was painted over it in large, streaky brushstrokes.
“Hey!” Jonny tries to wave but he has a huge cauldron of king-sized chocolate bars in his arms.
The girls try to stifle their laughter, seeing the king-sized bars.
Jonny surveys the group of girls with a wide grin on his face before his eyes meet Patrick’s. He promptly drops the cauldron. Patrick’s heart sinks. Is his costume that bad? Maybe he should have budgeted for more than Party City.
“Oh shit, oh, I mean, shoot,” Jonny says as he tries to bend down to gather the candy up. The cardboard bends against the doorframe.
Patrick hears some snickering from inside the house.
“Shut up, David,” Jonny shoots over his shoulder.
Patrick squats down, trying to gather all the bars out of Jonny’s reach. The girls have already picked up a bar each and started making their way to the next house.
“Th’okay, man,” Patrick tries to comfort him, but even he is looking down, trying not to also laugh at image of all the candy crashing onto the cement.
They both reach for the last Snickers bar at the same time, fingers brushing. Jonny quickly jerks back, or at least, as quickly as his cardboard will allow.
“Uh take it, Pat, you haven’t gotten any yet right,” Jonny says, already getting back up and retreating back into his house.
Patrick doesn’t even get a chance to say thanks. Jonny rushes back inside and shuts his door. He can hear some laughing then a crashing inside. Ominous silhouettes glow in the window, a flailing rectangle over a victim hiding for cover.
****
Patrick goes solo down the rest of the street, but he ends up never catching up to Erica. He’s just arrived at his last house after circling the neighborhood, his next door neighbors, when he sees Jess across the street, making her way over to Jonny’s house.
He finds himself gravitating towards the Toews’ again. It couldn’t hurt to get another king-sized bar, right?
He waits for them, and once they make their way over to him, he joins the crowd.
“Mind me tagging along?”
“Weren’t you just here, Patty?”
“All about efficiency. Why walk around for 20 minis when I could just go here for a king-sized?”
Patrick thinks that’s rational enough.
Jess’ eyes widen at the mention of king-sized bars, and she doesn’t ask any more questions.
Jonny’s more practiced now. Cauldron in one arm, hand ready to pass out candy in the other. Patrick takes the chance behind Jess’ crew to just admire.
Patrick knows he’s got it bad when he still thinks that Jonny’s handsome. Even behind that stupid red face paint.
He doesn’t notice the rustling of the bushes as he stares at Jonny. Patrick hears Jackie snickering to his left, so he turns around—face to face with a grotesque decaying face, like a zombie with its jaw sagging as he growls right into Patrick’s ear.
Patrick screams and runs right into Jonny, who drops his cauldron again. Patrick tries to hold onto Jonny, but he merely scrapes on the chalky texture of the cardboard, paint chipping underneath his nails as he struggles for purchase.
“David! Could you not,” Jonny hisses. Patrick keeps his eyes closed as he waits for his heart to stop racing, feeling Jonny’s arms wrapped protectively around him. Jonny continues to rub his back in calming circles.
“Patty, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Jackie says over her cackling friends.
“Easy for you to th’ay, he wathn’t in your fa’th!”
“Sorry, man,” David sputters out while laughing, “that was priceless.”
Patrick’s rationality comes back to him, as he realizes he’s still hanging onto Jonny. He looks up, and Jonny’s giving him one of those soft smiles. He’s seen it time and time again, reserved just for Betsey.
“You okay, Patrick? Sorry my brother can just be so…” Jonny trails off, as he looks down at Patrick.
He hears Jackie and her trio of friends distantly walking away, and it comes back to him that he’s supposed to be trick-or-treating.
Patrick steps back, out of Jonny’s arms, and almost wishes that David could scare him again.
Th’o th’orry, man, fucking th’cared the th’it out of me,” Patrick says while tonguing his fangs.
Jonny stares out while Patrick still lingers at the edge of the yard. He’s expecting to be called out, but Jonny only gives him another one of those grins.
“Want another?”
“For th’ure,” Patrick says and Jonny tosses him one from afar. He catches it in his bucket, a consolation prize for all his failed interactions with Jonathan Toews.
****
It’s nearing 9 PM, and Jackie and her friends should all be getting home soon, but she’s awfully disappointed with her haul. Smarties and tootsie rolls can only trade for so much.
“Patty, where did you get that!” she points to his now two king-sized Snickers laid out in front of him.
“The Th’oews,” Patrick says, as he hoards them away into his pile. Yes, he likes Snickers, but they’re also from Jonny.
“Can you take me over there, please?” she pleads. “It’s just across the street, just one more house. Mom and dad won’t even know.”
“Th’ure, th’ure, make it quick.”
It takes a lot less convincing than it should, Patrick thinks, but downplays his eagerness as he gets up from the carpet, Jackie bouncing up excitedly after him.
The fog has mostly cleared up, but Jackie and Pat still try to ring on the door bell one last time. Betsey seems to be even more riled up than usual, barking and scratching at the door.
As expected, Jonny opens up. His red paint is seeping a bit now, red leaf smudged at the edges.
“Trick or treat!” Jackie says, while opening her pouch.
But just as Jonny opens the door wide enough, Betsey makes a mad dash out of the house, a furry blur dodging through their legs.
“BETS- oomph.” Jonny instinctively reaches out after her but is stopped as the unforgiving cardboard edges of his costume ram into the doorframe.
Patrick drops his jack o’lantern and sprints after Betsey without any hesitation.
“Go home, Jackie!” he shouts over his shoulder, his cape flapping in the wind.
“Sorry, Jackie, I better go too,” Jonny reverses and scooches out of the door sideways to get the entire width of the flag out of the doorway. He jogs down the street, against the resistance of his flapping costume.
“God damn, can she run,” Patrick’s lungs are burning by the time he follows Betsey into the park. He’s finally cornered the little dog at the playground—she probably just wanted in on all the fun.
“Come here, girl,” Patrick crouches down and pats his thigh, trying to mimic what he’s seen Jonny do time and time again.
Betsey slowly pads her way over, panting and sniffing Patrick’s hand before she starts nuzzling it.
Patrick looks behind him, hearing the crisp brush of cardboard and heavy steps as Jonny jogs over.
“Holy shit, thanks, Patrick,” Jonny says in between deep breaths. It seems like he wants to bend over, but the stiff board just has him standing there, gasping for air.
“Yeah, Bet’thy actually th’opped here, just wanted to have fun too I gue’th,” Patrick gently picks her up, holding her close to his chest. Patrick looks up from petting Betsey, and he sees the yellow street lights highlight Jonny’s glinting smile and his red-tipped ears, nearly the same shade of his face paint.
They stay there like that, until Patrick lets out a chuckle. It’s contagious, and they’re laughing at the incredulity of it all. Smiling stupid at each other.
“Thi’th is awkward huh. First time we’ve ever had a real conversation th’ince that la’thagna inth’ident,” Patrick says.
“I wouldn’t really call it an incident.”
“Hone’thly, I thought you were going to go to the local high school, th’o we could get to know each other better then.”
“Makes sense, yeah. I was planning to, but y’know. Parents.”
They turn and start walking out of the park, towards their houses. Betsey is panting happily in Patrick’s arms, apparently satisfied with the chaos she had created.
“God, I th’ound tho th’upid huh, damn.”
“No! No, not at all. I think it—it’s a really good costume, Pat.”
“You’re blind man, I got this at Party Th’ity like right after th’cool,” Patrick replies quickly, thankful for the way out.
“I—Party City or not, it looks good. You, you look good.” Jonny can’t seem to stop shifting his stare from Betsey to Patrick. Maybe just the both of them.
Patrick shyly smiles, bashful. “Thanks. You too, but maybe lose the face paint. It’s seriously covering up your appeal,” he says. He doesn’t know where he finds the courage, but he brings his thumb to smear that red and white face paint across Jonny’s cheek.
“I wanted to get to know you,” and more goes unsaid, but Patrick thinks that Jonny knows. He stares at the sidewalk, avoiding looking at Jonny. He feels safer, in the dark, blurting out his best-kept secret.
“I was looking for you too,” Jonny admits, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Ever since I moved in, I—when you finally came over with that lasagna actually. Like, I kept seeing you play street hockey and all while I was out gardening. I don’t know why I never just went up to talk to you.”
Patrick stifles a laugh. “You really think I wake up that early on weekend’th ju’th to play hockey, man? Nah it’s because I got to th’ee you.” He feels less pathetic now, with Jonny’s own confession.
They walk back in step for the rest of the way, casting long shadows behind them. With Halloween practically over, the night feels like a space carved out for just the two of them, an unsettling quiet once all the kids have gone to bed and the animatronics have been put to rest.
“Hey, well uh thanks for saving Betsey in a way. She means so much to me,” Jonny says as he sees the giant skeleton looming over his house in the distance.
“Yeah, of cour’th, I think I could pick up on at lea’th that.” Patrick carefully hands her back to Jonny as they start to split ways to get back home.
Jonny takes her with one hand while briefly grasping Patrick’s fingers with his other before Patrick can let Betsey go.
“Good night, Patrick,” he says and leans in for a soft peck on his cheek.
Patrick pulls him back in again and presses their lips together, only for Jonny to flinch in pain.
“Ow, fuck,” Jonny says while sucking on his now-bleeding lip.
Betsey’s hugged tight in between them, and she tries to wriggle her way through and starts licking at Patrick’s fake fangs.
Patrick chuckles, “Fangth sthay on during thex?”