How to Be a Normal Person (14 page)

And Gus thought about saying
I hope you can say the same for me
, but he remembered that Casey had called him
abnormal
and
weird
and
strange
, so maybe he
couldn’t
quite say that, not yet. Some part of Gus, some part ingrained deep inside him, placed there by life and Pastor Tommy, whispered that he shouldn’t have to change for anyone, that if someone didn’t appreciate him as he was, then they had no place in his life. But Gus ignored that voice, because he wasn’t quite convinced he was doing this because of Casey. Or, rather, not
just
because of Casey. Maybe he wanted to do this for himself, too. It might work. It might not. But Gus had the Internet now, and he would never know unless he tried.

Only then did Casey seem to realize what Gus was wearing. He looked Gus up and down, and while there was no heat to the gaze, nothing that quite resembled lust, there was a fondness there. He said, “New threads? Kickass sandals, man. Retro. You sure you’re not a hipster? I bet you have a couple of fingers of rye whiskey every night before you go to bed while you listen to old jazz records.”

“Oh my god,” Gus said. “What the hell. I don’t even remotely do anything like that. That’s ridiculous. Nobody should do that.”

“I’ve done it,” Casey said. “I still do it.”

“Well, yes,” Gus said, “but you’re a stereotype, so.”

And Casey
laughed
.

HE WAS
feeling okay about it.

Mostly.

Yeah, the Birkenstocks were stupid, and his kneecaps were cold from the holes in the jean, and he
really
hated the shirt with a passion, but it was a start.

Gustavo Tiberius had made a start.

He should have known it would not have gone unmentioned.

At 11:54, the door to the Emporium opened.

In walked the We Three Queens.

And they just
stopped
.

And
stared
.

Gus, for his part, knew that change was hard for some people to accept. He also knew he didn’t need to justify anything to anyone if he felt like this was right for him. Gus could change all he wanted and didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

(Granted, he realized the irony of such sentiments that
he
of all people could make changes when and how he wanted to. Gus was almost friends with a hipster, therefore his life was mired in irony already.)

“Huh,” Bertha finally said.

“Hmm,” Bernice said.

“Heh,” Betty said.

Gus ignored them. “Welcome to Pastor Tommy’s Video Rental Emporium. Can I make a recommendation for an Emporiumarvelous film?”

“What,” Bertha said.

“Whoa,” Bernice said.

“Okay,” Betty said. “What the hell is going on? This can’t be because he ate too much jerky, got stopped up, and needs a colon cleanse.”

“Gross,” Gus muttered.

“Maybe we should have bought him that enema kit,” Bernice whispered to the other two. “Just as a precaution.”

“Grosser,” Gus muttered.

“Do you think he realizes he’s wearing
orange
?” Bertha asked. “Can not having enough fiber and being stopped up cause you to go color blind?”

Gus sighed, because this was his life. Voluntarily.

“Just
ask
him.”

“You ask him!”

“Butter my biscuit,” Betty said. “I’ll do it.” She marched forward until she stood in front of the counter. She flipped the collar to her pink jacket, looking cooler than Gus ever would. She said “Gus, good morning” like he hadn’t heard every single word they’d said since they had arrived.

“Good morning,” Gus said. “Enjoy your films?”

“
Cannonball Run II
was unnecessary and redundant,” she said. “The second was
Cape Fear
with Gregory Peck and Robert Mitchum. The sexual chemistry between them was off the charts.”

“The sexual
what now
?” Gus choked out. “He was trying to
kill
him.”

“Exactly. Now. Gus. Why are you dressed like every single white person who has ever gone on vacation in Hawaii?”

“That’s offensive,” Gus said. “And racist. I think. Somehow. And I will not even dignify that with a response.”

Bertha and Bernice peered over her shoulders.

Gus glared at them.

They stared back.

The front door opened.

“Ladies,” Casey said cheerfully. “I was hoping to see you again. Man, you guys got my followers on Instagram salivating. You’re Internet famous now.”

“Huh,” Betty said as he came to stand next to them, Gus resolutely not thinking about hugging, what the hell. “I wondered why we suddenly got four thousand new followers in two days. I just thought we were that amazing and wonderful.”

“You are,” Casey said. “Why are we having a stare-off? Can I play?” He turned and stared at Gus.

Gus, of course, flushed slightly and averted his eyes.

“Ooh,” the We Three Queens said.

“Now I get it,” Betty said.

“Holy crap,” Bernice said.

“This is so awesome,” Bertha said.

“What’s going on?” Casey asked, still staring at Gus.

“Yes, Gus,” Betty said. “Care to tell us what’s happening?”

Desperate to have any and all attention directed anywhere else, he said, “Why do you have so many followers?”

Casey shrugged. “I told you. I’m a writer.”

“What does that have to do with followers? And also, that sounds slightly cultish.”

Casey blushed slightly and Gus thought about hugging him some more. “Eh. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Gus frowned. “What’s not?”

“Holy shit,” Bertha said, looking down at her phone. “You’re C.S. Richards.”

“Surprise,” Casey said, looking rather embarrassed.

“Who?” Gus asked.

The We Three Queens stared at him.

Casey grinned like Gus was the greatest thing to exist. “Awesome.”

“C.S. Richards,” Bertha said. “He’s written a series of extremely popular young adult postapocalyptic vampire/werewolf novels.”

“Postapocalyptic vampire/werewolf novels,” Gus repeated. “What… what is… that?”

“It’s a lot more convoluted than it sounds,” Casey said. “I even have to keep notes on it.”

“I’ve read all of them,” Bernice said. “Three times. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To work on the fourth. Tell me. Tell me what happens. Now. Does Desmondo end up with Catarina or Martindale? Do they find the Nexus of Power and take down Count Vladimite?” Her eyes were wide and she was slowly advancing on Casey.

“Desmondo?” Gus said, grimacing. “
Martindale
? These are
names
of people? They sound like abandoned Greyhound bus hubs from the seventies.”

“Says Gustavo Tiberius,” Betty muttered under her breath.

“You know the story, Gus,” Bertha said. “They made the first book into a movie. We made you go see it last year, remember?”

And he
did
remember, because the We Three Queens had forced him to go with them to the theater twenty miles away, saying they would not take no for an answer. He’d ended up riding behind Bertha on her Vespa, arms around her waist, a pink helmet on his head that proclaimed him to be a We Three Queens Groupie. It was the worst experience of Gustavo’s life. Well. One of them, anyway.

“You wrote the book that
The Hungering Blood Moon
was based on?” Gus asked, staring at Casey. “But that movie was terrible!”

“I know!” Casey said, cackling gleefully. “They completely butchered what I’d written. It was
amazing
. I saw it sober and spent the entire time wishing I was stoned and anywhere else.”

“I liked it,” Bernice breathed, standing only inches away from Casey now. “I liked it so much. You have to autograph something for me. Like my dreams.”

“Eep,” Casey said.

Gus made a strangled noise because it was
not
adorable when Casey did that. And what the hell was the word
adorable
doing in his vocabulary?

“Bernice,” Bertha said. “Pull it back, just a little. You’re going to scare him off and then Gus will pout.”

Gus glared at her. “What part of me suggests to you that I’m capable of pouting?”

“Your lips,” Betty said. “You’ve got pouty lips.”

Gus wished he’d never been born with lips at all. Especially since everyone seemed to be looking over at them to either confirm or dispute such a notion.

“Totally does,” Bernice said.

“Completely,” Bertha said.

“I want to Instagram them,” Casey said.

Gus groaned and put his head down on the counter and realized it was too late to dispute the fact that he would pout. But he
wouldn’t
.

“Casey, now that we know you’re super famous,” Bertha said, “and will most likely be stalked by Bernice—”

“So much stalking,” Bernice whispered. “You should live with me and write the stories I breathe in your ear.”

“—inquiring minds will want to know what you’re doing in Abby?”

Casey shrugged and tapped his fingers on the counter, near Gus’s face. For a moment, Gus focused on them and only them and it was nice. He didn’t know why. “Trying something different,” Casey said. “Los Angeles was getting too crowded for me, and I couldn’t think. I thought maybe some mountain air would do me good.” He glanced quickly at Gus before looking back at the We Three Queens. “Seems I was right.”

“Very interesting,” Bertha said. “And what are you doing here in the Emporium?”

“Bringing Gus his sandwich,” Casey said. He reached into the small messenger bag he carried at his side and pulled a wrapped sandwich and placed it on the counter. “It’s turkey and Havarti.”

“What the hell is Havarti?” Gus asked.

“Semisoft Danish cow cheese,” Casey said. “You’ll love it.”

“That… sounds disgusting,” Gus said. “You should have just called it cheese. I don’t know if I can eat cheese from a semisoft Danish cow.”

Casey laughed, throwing his head back. Gus felt inordinately pleased with himself.

The We Three Queens were staring at him again.

“What?” Gus snapped.

“Did he just tell a joke?” Bernice whispered to her sisters and/or lovers.

“It’s like he’s Bizarro Gus,” Bertha said.

“Have you been brainwashed by the enemy, cadet?” Betty demanded.

“What are you talking about?” Casey asked. “Gus is funny all the time.”

They turned slowly to gape at him.

Gus ignored them. “Maybe not
all
the time.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “You still want to watch a movie?”

Because, somehow, Gus had found himself inviting Casey over that afternoon to watch a movie on one of the Emporium’s TVs that were scattered around the store. He hadn’t turned them on in so long because they typically played a loop of previews and commercials that Pastor Tommy had cut together himself.

But that’s what normal people did, right? They hung out. And Gus was normal.

“Sure,” he said. “That sounds groovy. Or whatever.” And immediately realized he should
never ever talk again
.

“Groovy,” Bertha mouthed at the other We Three Queens.

“Groovy,” Casey said cheerfully. “I’ll go pick one out.” He moved off into the store, humming quietly to himself.

“Gus,” Bertha said.

“Seriously,” Bernice said.

“Groovy,” Betty said.

And Gus absolutely refused to acknowledge any of them.

HOW TO
Be a Normal Person

Step 2: Have Healthy Body Habits like a Normal Person (Male Version)

Now, it might go without saying, but having good hygiene is definitely normal. Unruly hair and facial hair is an indicator of not being normal. People can often make snap judgments based upon appearance, and if your hair is too long or if you have pungent body odor, it can be off-putting and will not allow you to find your sense of normalness. Make sure to brush and floss your teeth and schedule regular proctological exams to ensure you smell clean from both ends.

In addition to having a healthy outer personal appearance, make sure to take care of your
inner
you. After all, eating nothing but cake and cheese and burritos will cause your inner you to expand your outer you, thus affecting your appearance. Avoiding gastric inflaming foods will help to alleviate any potentially awkward situations. Stick with fruits and vegetables, and food with healthy fats and carbs. If someone says to you, “Hey, let’s go have a meat-lovers pizza with beer and cheesy bread and just have no respect for ourselves or our bodies,” suggest an alternative. For example, you could say, “Hey, bro, I have a better idea. Let’s go try that heart-healthy vegan restaurant that just opened over on Main Street. I hear their crispy kale and tofu salad is the bomb!”

Gus could do this part.

It was easy.

He already took care of his body.

Well, mostly.

His hair was a little long, sure, but he didn’t have “unruly facial hair” (or really any facial hair at all, much less
unruly
). He didn’t necessarily think much of his personal appearance, flexing in the mirror aside.

He hadn’t had a zit in weeks, thank god. And he had strong teeth and gums and his tongue was a little short, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He didn’t think he was particularly pungent, but he supposed he’d better check just to make sure.

He called Bertha on the phone the next night. She sounded surprised, but she quickly recovered. “Gus! What can I do for you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Hello. I am calling for advice.”

“Shhh,” she snapped, sounding slightly muffled. “I’ll put it on speaker, just be quiet. Did you hear what he said? He needs
advice
. He’s totally going to do it! Casey will be so—ahem. Hello, Gus. Nothing is going on here at all. It is just me and no one else. What sort of advice are you looking for?”

Gus could do this. It wasn’t that hard. They were friends, of a sort. And friends asked each other for advice. “Yes,” he said, ready to get this over with. “Advice. Well. It has come to my attention that I need to check if I am pungent or not. Who is your proctologist, and do you recommend them?”