“Elbows?” Gregory was confused.
“Elbows,” Joey chimed in.
“You don’t want Sandra thinking your elbows so dry that your arm is going to crack and break in half if you try to hug her, do you?” Candace asked, all kinds of serious.
“I mean, that wouldn’t happen.” Gregory looked at Joey and Remy. They didn’t say a word, so he repeated himself. “That… wouldn’t happen, right?”
Joey just dropped his chin. “Wow.”
“What?” Now Gregory was really confused.
“ ‘That wouldn’t happen,’ he says,” Remy scoffed. “Did everybody hear that? He said, that wouldn’t happen! Let me tell you something, Gregory Pitts. I’ve heard stories, horror stories, about dry boys who try to be romantic and they end up a pile of paint chips. You don’t want to be paint chips, my brother, do you?”
“No.”
“Then let me do my magic on these elbows,” Candace commanded. Then she went to work, first on his right elbow. Circles with center of her palm, then pincher-claw rubs with the tips of her fingers for optimal moisturizing. When his arm was as shiny as Mr. Davanzo’s bald head, she started over, this time with the left hand, fingers, wrist, forearm, and again… elbow.
“Okay,” Gregory said, pulling away, a little embarrassed by the attention, plus, people were walking by watching Gregory get worked on like some kind of car. But he could feel the difference. His fingers felt like they’d been freed from casts. Lotion. Who knew?
“Not done yet.” Candace pumped more lotion from the bottle.
“Not done?” he squawked. “What good is all this if we don’t ever make it to her house?”
“We will,” Joey assured him.
“And the real question is, what good is it making it to her house when all she going to do is wonder why your hands and elbows glistening and your face looks like you just got jumped by seventeen giant pieces of chalk and they only gave you head shots?” Remy threw fake punches in the air.
“Exactly,” Candace said, another glob of lotion piled in her hand. “Come here.” Gregory came a little closer as Candace rubbed her hands together. Then she slapped them on his cheeks. Gregory squirmed, but Candace wouldn’t let up, pressing at his face like she was trying to rub smudges off of fresh sneakers, getting the creases of his nose and the corners of his mouth. Oh, and his earlobes. Even Remy and Joey were a little puzzled by that one, but they figured Candace knew what she was doing.
A school bus pulled up to the stop sign at that corner. The clack of a window dropping.
“Hey!” a boy from the bus yelled. Candace, Remy, and Joey turned and looked, but not Gregory. Candace clasped his face in her hands. “You might as well give up. No matter how hard you try, that ug-mug won’t come off!” The boy spoke like his tongue was too big for his mouth, spit flying everywhere.
“Thank God,” Candace shouted. “Because it might look like yours underneath!”
“Then we’d really be in trouble!” Remy followed. Joey didn’t say nothing. Just started searching the ground for a rock or something to throw, but the bus moved on.
Candace brushed it off, then went back to business, rubbing her palm on Gregory’s forehead, polishing it. “There,” she said at last, stepping back, admiring her work. “You look… not bad.” That was as far as she could go. Any compliment more than that was gross.
“I’m ready?” Gregory asked, eyeing Candace’s backpack nervously.
“Almost,” Joey said, now unzipping his backpack.
“What now?” Gregory took two steps backward.
“Well, here’s the thing. There’s only really one other thing you need to be ready for this. Something for your lips.”
“What?!” Gregory took two more steps backward.
“Relax. I’m just saying chapped lips—”
“Are gross,” Candace finished. “Like… for real.”
“I mean, seriously, what if we get to her house, you lay it all out on the table about how you feel about her and how you would like to get her phone number and blah, blah, blah, and she says, who cares about a phone number. Give me a kiss.” Joey bounced his eyebrows.
“Hold on. Just so we clear, she won’t say that,” Candace clarified.
“How you know?” Remy chimed.
“Trust me. She won’t. But she might be like oh, he takes care of himself. Maybe one day I’ll give him a kiss.”
“Your first smooch,” Remy teased like he’d kissed anybody, but he hadn’t.
“But if your lips look like they look right now, which is white with that weird burn ring around your mouth—” Joey started, but Candace cut him off.
“Stop licking your lips so much, bro. It’s gross and it makes you smell like spit, which when added to the underarm stench makes you smell like throw up, and as your friend and as a girl who happens to unfortunately like boys, I’m telling you it’s a deal breaker.” Candace’s words sizzled, stung.
“Wow… thanks for your honesty… I guess,” Gregory said.
“It’s ’cause I love you,” Candace said, shrugging.
“So, with that being said…” Joey pulled his hand out of his bag. In it was a ziplock bag of goop. “Got this from my mom’s room. It don’t come like this. I just couldn’t risk taking the whole container out of there, because she would know, and ultimately, murder me. And I don’t wanna die before Gregory gets a kiss.”
“Or before you get one,” Remy said.
“Or before you get one,” Joey shot back.
“Wait. Hold up.” Gregory got back to business. “I gotta use all that?!”
“No!” From Candace.
“Noooo!” From Remy.
“Come on, man,” Joey said with a laugh, pulling the bag open, the scent of menthol wafting out. “Now, this is medicated stuff, so take it easy.”
“Why? If it’s medicated, then it should be good for me,” Gregory said, dipping his fingers in. And before Joey could reply, Gregory slapped the glob on his mouth and started rubbing it in.
Joey’s mouth dropped open.
“What?” Gregory asked, and a nanosecond later said, “Oh.” And then, “Oh… wait. Oh. Ohhh.” He started fanning his mouth with his hand. “It… burns,” he said, his eyes starting to water.
“What you mean, it burns?” Candace asked, hands on hips.
“Joey, what you give him?” Remy snatched the bag, scooped out a fingertip of the slime. Sniffed. “Is this… ?” Sniffed again. Held out his finger for Candace to smell. “Is this—”
“VapoRub?” Candace snatched the bag and took a big huff. It opened her chest immediately. Joey nodded sheepishly.
“Why would you give him VapoRub?” Remy pretended to slap Joey on the head.
“We ain’t have Vaseline, but this stuff got Vaseline in it, so I figured it’s basically the same,” Joey explained.
“Dude, that’s the stuff my mother rubs on me when I’m sick, and it goes into my skin and makes the whole inside of my body cold,” Remy said.