Kens

by Raziel Reid

  “Ken Roberts checks in everywhere.”

  “It’s really coming along.” Tommy climbs over the chain-link fence and looks up at the mall. The cement has been laid in the parking lot, and the windows have all been fitted with glass. A PLASTIC PLACE marquee protrudes above the entrance with the same lettering as the WILLOWSLAND sign.

  “Grand opening in a few weeks,” Blaine says.

  The mall is locked down, but Blaine knows a way in through a basement side door. “I thought you’d appreciate the attention to detail.” He shows Tommy how the pipes have all been freshly painted pink.

  “Your dad sure has found the spirit of Willows…He’s pretty influenced by the Kens, huh?”

  “Artificiality is critique.” Blaine shrugs. Tommy can’t tell if Blaine knows about Ken Roberts and his dad or not.

  They walk down the dark basement hallway. Tommy looks over at Blaine.

  “You really rescued me tonight. I shouldn’t have even gone. Brad’s just trying to use me to restore his popularity.”

  “I wanted to see for myself,” Blaine says. “The Kens haven’t lost their stronghold, have they?”

  “It’s like they’re stronger than ever. Like we made them stronger than ever.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  Tommy isn’t expecting it when Blaine pushes him against the wall and kisses him.

  It isn’t like kissing Brad at all. It isn’t wet and it doesn’t taste like Taco Accessory and whiskey. It’s short and sweet; Tommy barely has time to close his eyes. But it’s good. So good it makes him feel like a Ken again. Breathless.

  “What was that for?” Tommy’s glad it’s dark in the basement so Blaine can’t see how big his, um, smile is.

  “Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” Blaine says.

  “It didn’t mean anything tonight with Brad. Just so you know.”

  “Nothing means anything.”

  “I just thought that maybe you—”

  “Aw.” Blaine pats Tommy’s head. “Look at you, thinking and stuff.”

  TEEN TALK

  They’re staring as he makes his way to his locker.

  A group of Barks players point and laugh. Cold sweat coats his body. They know. He’s sure of it. Everyone knows!

  Tommy pulls out his phone and attempts to load SoFamous. He’s trying not to panic, but he feels like the box is closing in on him.

  SoFamous won’t load, but something is definitely up. Francie and Midge pass him, cheer skirts swaying from side to side so sharply they could cut a bitch. They cling to each other’s arms, looking him up and down and whispering to each other.

  Tommy walks down the hall, lifting his phone above his head to try to find a connection. He bumps into a trash bin and notices Allan in the science lab with Mr. Hadley, standing at the doorway of the supplies closet. Allan helps out in the lab for extra credit.

  “Very distressing.” Mr. Hadley rubs his chin. “Very distressing indeed.”

  “What’s going on?” Tommy asks as he enters.

  “Someone broke into the supplies closet.” Allan looks back at him. “We’re missing sulfuric acid and nitric acid.”

  “I’ll have to report this to Principal Elliot at once,” Mr. Hadley says. “I shudder to think of the ways in which corrosive substances might be used in today’s world…”

  Mr. Hadley leaves the class, muttering to himself.

  “Think it’s serious?” Tommy asks.

  “Mr. Hadley probably misplaced an order or something. He’s a mad scientist, always in his head. One day he came to school without any pants on.”

  “Oh yeah.” Tommy remembers. “He was Ken Hilton’s favorite teacher.”

  A group of kids in the hallway passes the lab door. They see Tommy and stop to take a photo of him.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” Tommy asks Allan. He checks his phone to see if SoFamous will load. Still nothing.

  “Is it true?” Allan says quietly. “About you and Brad?”

  “What about me and Brad?”

  “Did you guys really go on a date this weekend?”

  “I wouldn’t really call it a date. I left halfway through.”

  “Well, that’s not what he’s saying.”

  Tommy waits for him to go on, watching as Allan fidgets uncomfortably.

  “He’s saying that you guys went all the way and that you’re”—Allan spits the last part out as fast as he can—“a messy bottom.”

  “A what?” Tommy gasps.

  “So it isn’t true?”

  “Of course it isn’t true! He’s just trying to save face and restore his I-stick-it-in-anything jock image because everyone knows he couldn’t satisfy Ken Hilton!”

  For the rest of the day, Tommy has all eyes and lenses on him. Someone even puts a whoopee cushion on his seat in math class. Tommy doesn’t get off on the fact that he’s bumped Ken Hilton from the top trending story on SoFamous. His skin just isn’t thick enough plastic to deal with the scrutiny.

  He escapes to Blaine’s house after school. They sit on the couch and Blaine turns on the TV. Willows News comes on. Stacie Skipper is doing a segment on pre-teen boob jobs.

  Blaine’s dad gets home from work, and Tommy sits up a little straighter. He’s glad his face is still frozen with Botox, because if it weren’t he’s sure Blaine’s dad would be able to tell that Tommy knows his dirty secret…But Scott Gordon barely registers Tommy as he barrels into the living room, loosening his red tie and shouting at the top of his lungs.

  “Goddamn terrorists!”

  “Hard day at work, Pops?” Blaine asks without averting his eyes from the TV.

  “Some Twitter tribe of hairy-armpit bitches have started a petition to stop me from opening Plastic Place. They want to turn the building into a mosque. A fucking mosque! All because Willows was voted the least diverse city in America. Fucking SJWs.”

  Tommy whispers to Blaine. “SJWs?”

  “Social justice warriors,” he says.

  Scott looks at Tommy for the first time. He jumps back.

  “Ken?” he chokes.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Blaine laughs at his dad. “Looks like the kid on the news who killed himself, right? But this is my friend Tommy.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.” Tommy puts out his hand for Blaine’s dad to shake. Scott offers a fist-bump instead.

  “Major germophobe,” Blaine explains under his breath.

  Scott stares at Tommy for another beat, then continues ranting. “You’d think they’d be grateful. Plastic Place will be the biggest building in Willows!”

  “Bigger than the one mom bungee-jumped off of in Ohio?” Blaine asks. “Too bad she forgot the cord, huh Pops?”

  Blaine’s dad just stares at him. Tommy shifts on the couch uncomfortably.

  “You kids skedaddle.” Scott grabs the remote. “I need to Wii Fit and blow off some steam.”

  “How much do you want to bet that Twitter petition to stop Plastic Place is being signed by people who don’t even live in Willows?” Blaine asks up in his room. “No one in this town cares about anything but their latest selfie.”

  They sit on Blaine’s bed. Tommy glances over at Blaine scrolling through his phone and wonders if they’re going to kiss again.

  Blaine flashes Tommy Brad’s latest Instagram photo of him holding two male blow-up dolls. The caption says, “2 Kens Down, 2 to Go.” It’s been Liked more than five hundred times.

  “Another Ken product.” Blaine exits out of the screen.

  “It’s such a Ken Hilton move,” Tommy says. “They really were perfect for each other.”

  “Brad Curtis has to be brought down.”

  “He’s not worth the effort. Besides, he’s the only black kid at Willows High. Who can blame him for being so insecure?”

  “You’re just going to give him a pass for making up that lie about you?”

  “What would you suggest, another pill bomb?”

  Blaine jumps off the bed
and starts pacing.

  “I was joking,” Tommy says nervously.

  “Willows is the least diverse city in America…Brad Curtis is the only black kid at Willows High…” A familiar light appears in Blaine’s eyes. “Was that Brad’s Mustang parked on the peak?”

  OREO BARBIE

  Brad Curtis’s baby is the red Mustang his father gave him for his sixteenth birthday. He had a Hot Wheel just like it as a kid; it was his favorite toy to play with. Brad loves to drive. With the road wide open in front of him he doesn’t have to worry about any of the usual things that weigh heavily on him—football stats, what to eat next, how long he can keep stealing his dad’s Viagra without him noticing.

  He started popping the pills whenever he had a date with Ken Hilton, but when Ken Hilton found out he was more insulted than ever. “I’m supposed to be your drug,” he pouted. Brad started getting wasted every time they were together so that he could have something to blame for his impotence. He was terrified of losing his ticket to the top. Dating Ken Hilton was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He’d always been popular, but once he started dating a Ken, the Ken, he got so many new followers that Dippity-Do was sending him DMs and paying him to promote their products. Going gay for Ken Hilton made him a star, and there was no way he was going back to being basic, even if it meant he had to give up his first love, Francie Fairchild—the finest piece of ass in Willows.

  Word on SoFamous is that Francie is hooking up with Todd, and it kills him, but no way is Brad taking her back even now that Ken Hilton is dead. His status is more vulnerable than ever. He has to rebound.

  After dating a Ken there’s nowhere to go but down, unless, of course, he dates another Ken. That had been the plan with Ken Rawlins, but things hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. But Brad still managed to use him…

  The rumor he started about their date is helping buff up his stats. He may be a master at the Kens’ game, but Brad does feel slightly bad for his lie. There was just no way around it. Ken Hilton was the one who taught him that the pop in popularity stands for popping off a bitch’s head to get ahead. He did what he had to do. Now, to really secure his position at Willows High, he’s going to ask Ken Roberts out to Dreamhouse.

  Dating a Ken isn’t easy. For someone who once wrote a post on SoFamous promoting a diet of one-day-on-one-day-off eating, Ken Hilton sure had a sweet tooth. But he’d only eat pink candies. Pink jellybeans, pink Starbursts, pink gummies…pink, pink, pink! Coach Summers noticed Brad had put on an extra layer. He couldn’t help it. He had to eat the offending junk before Ken Hilton had a meltdown.

  But the sacrifices are worth it for the glory. Brad wakes up in the morning and gets ready for an early football practice singing “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King.”

  Brad’s Mustang sparkles in the driveway.

  Parked on the other side of the road from Brad’s house, out of sight, is Blaine’s motorcycle. Blaine and Tommy sneak onto Brad’s property, ducking behind his Mustang. Blaine puts the sleeve of his leather jacket over his fist and punches out one of the taillights. Broken glass falls to the cement.

  They retreat back to the bike, where they have a view of Brad’s front door through the shrubs. Brad comes out, whistling to himself. He tosses his keys in the air and catches them in the palm of his hand. As he pulls out onto the street, he doesn’t notice the Harley trailing him at a distance.

  A few blocks in, Blaine pulls his bike over to the side of the road and makes a call to the Willows Police Department.

  “Yes, Officer,” he says, “there’s an erratic driver on Hillcrest Road, weaving between the lines. He’s driving a red Mustang, and the left taillight is broken. Did I get a look at him?” Blaine winks at Tommy. “Why yes, I did, Officer. He appears to be a young African-American male.”

  Police sirens are immediately heard in the distance.

  “This is so wrong,” Tommy says, “but so ingenious! If I didn’t totally hate Brad I’d feel bad for him. Just think how crushed he’s going to be when we post a video of the King of Willows High being taken down a peg by one of the Willows’ finest. No one will ever respect him again if we can catch him being submissive to someone who works for the government!”

  A WPD cruiser soars by. Blaine pulls up behind it, staying far enough back so that they’re carefully concealed by the curve of the corner. Tommy and Blaine watch as the Mustang is pulled over. Blaine hits Record on his phone.

  A police officer steps out of the cruiser, pulling out his Glock 22 before he’s even approached the vehicle.

  Tommy and Blaine are close enough to hear the conversation.

  “Is there a problem, Officer?” Brad asks, unrolling his window.

  The officer screams, “Put your hands up!”

  Brad’s seen enough YouTube videos to know to do as he’s told. He lifts his hands in the air.

  “I’m sorry if I was speeding, sir. I’m on my way to football practice and Coach hates it when we’re late.”

  “Do you have license and registration for this vehicle?”

  “Yes, sir.” Brad lowers his hands to reach for the glove compartment and pull out the registration.

  Before Brad can reach over, the officer shoots him point-blank ten times.

  “I said put your hands up!” the officer shouts as he keeps shooting. Finally, he puts away his gun and takes off his aviator glasses, wiping a speck of blood from the lens. He calls in the shooting. “Suspect appeared to be reaching for a firearm,” he tells the dispatcher.

  Tommy opens his mouth to scream but no sound comes out. He wants to jump off the back of Blaine’s motorcycle and charge at the officer, to bash his head into the road over and over. But Blaine’s bike is roaring to life and they’re speeding in the opposite direction.

  “He killed him!” Tommy jumps off the back of the motorcycle as soon as it comes to a stop in the parking lot of Willows High. “I lost track of how many times he shot him!”

  “Ten,” Blaine says. “He just kept going and going!”

  Tommy bends over, holding onto his knees and trying to catch his breath.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “Think of it this way: at least we won’t have to write a suicide post this time.”

  “You sound like you expected this.” Tommy forces himself erect. He’s shaking.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Blaine looks away. “How could I have known?”

  “It was just supposed to be a prank,” Tommy says. “A video that made Brad, not me, the laughingstock of Willows High. But now he’s dead! Oh God. He’s dead. And it’s all my fault.”

  “You can’t take credit for the racist climate in this country, Tommy. You’re not that good.”

  “How can you be so cool about this?”

  Tommy usually finds Blaine’s nonchalance sexy. Blaine’s bad, and that’s why Tommy wants him so badly. But this time it just scares him.

  Blaine reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

  “What are you doing?” Tommy asks.

  “Anonymously submitting the video of the shooting to SoFamous. Think there’ll be any riots?”

  Tommy runs his hands through his hair, pulling on his blond. The scream he’s been holding inside is finally released.

  Blaine arches an eyebrow at him over the top of his phone. “Guilt is a useless emotion. There isn’t even an emoji for it.”

  “I just wanted to humiliate him…”

  “If it wasn’t a broken taillight, it would’ve been a turn signal that some copper pretended he didn’t see.”

  “We can turn ourselves in. The cop will spin things to make it seem like Brad was in the wrong, but we can explain that Brad was totally innocent. It’s the least we can do for him.”

  “You can’t bring him back, Tommy.”

  “I’m not trying to bring him back! I’m trying to bring myself back.”

  “You’ll have to book another appointment with Dr. Hil
ton for that.”

  Tommy lunges at Blaine. They throw down in the middle of the parking lot. Tommy gets in a few punches, but Blaine has him pinned fast. They’re both breathing heavily as Blaine stares down into Tommy’s eyes.

  “Time to pretend it’s just another perfect day in perfect Willows,” he says.

  SPARKLE SURPRISE

  Just like Ken Hilton, Brad is even more popular in death.

  Ken Roberts stands in the middle of the hallway of Willows High, fake-sobbing. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it!”

  Everyone is surprised because Kens usually reserve that level of emotion for Comme des Garçons. They didn’t realize Ken Roberts and Brad were that close. They weren’t. Ken Roberts is just freaking out because one of the pink rhinestones on Ken Hilton’s old iPhone fell off.

  Francie and the cheer squad are huddled together down the hall. Francie is milking a second wave of popularity. First she was the reason Ken Hilton killed himself, and now she’s lost Brad, the love of her life—or at least of her Facebook timeline. The sympathy Likes are staggering.

  Tommy walks down the hall with his head bowed. Well, he got what he wanted. No one is talking about his date with Brad anymore. The most-trending post on SoFamous is the video of Brad being shot.

  “Why so serious, Ken?” Ken Roberts, standing with Ken Carson, stops Tommy.

  “Yeah, dude.” Ken Carson flips his hair. “It’s not like someone’s Instagram account got suspended.”

  Ken Roberts lifts his shirt. “#freethenipple.”

  “For the last time, I am not a Ken. Aren’t you guys the least bit sad that Brad’s dead?”

  “It’s, like, so convenient,” Ken Roberts says. “I was wondering where to pre-game before my coronation party this weekend. And now it’s, like, duh! We can pre-game at Famous Family for Brad’s funeral. Churches are stocked with wine.”

  “Coronation party?”

  Ken Roberts bobbles. “Party dresses are fun!”