American Beauty

American Beauty

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Oliver whispered to his best friend squatting beside him, his forehead creased with worry and drenched in sweat.

“Yeah! We are, dude. Why the hell do you have to be such a chicken every time I try to get us to do something new? I think the room has a TV…American Beauty is on!” Gareth replied in a whisper, his gaze straight ahead.

“Because this is crazy, Gary! We’re spying on the Reverend’s daughter, for heaven’s sake! On a particularly warm summer night!” Oliver whispered, squinting to get a better look inside the window of what they assumed was Reverend Morgan’s daughter Angela’s bedroom. Oliver left his glasses behind in his house when Gary had sneaked inside his bedroom and asked him to follow him for a nighttime adventure.

“Why do you wanna do this anyway?” Oliver asked.

“Are you kidding me? Haven’t you seen Angie Morgan? She’s like the prettiest girl in class! What with those blue eyes, and those gorgeous lips…and don’t get me started about that butt of hers…it’s like a peach! I’m not a religious person, but that girl’s beauty is divine!” Gary replied.

“Of course I have seen Angela, and she is beautiful. But still, we are a pair of peeping Toms looking inside a girl’s bedroom. We’re violating her privacy!” Oliver observed.

“Don’t be such a goody-goody, Oliver. And why the hell are you squinting inside her bedroom if…wait a second…what the hell!” Gareth whispered, staring inside the , which was wide open, with his eyes as wide as tennis balls.

“What? What is it, Gary? What’s happening? Tell me!” Oliver whispered.

“What is the Reverend doing in Angie’s bedroom? Where the hell is she?” Gary whispered.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Reverend Morgan just entered Angie’s room…he looks gross in those shorts and vest. He’s watching American Beauty, for God’s sake! What a pervert!” Gary whispered.

“Seriously? He’s the pervert? We’re trespassing inside someone’s property to peep inside a girl’s bedroom and he’s the pervert for watching American Beauty?” Oliver whispered, smacking the back of his friend’s head.

“Stop playing the moral police, you moron! Angie’s the Reverend’s daughter so I can never hang out with her in public or make her my girlfriend. This is my only way to be near her. Plus, the Reverend is a man of God and men of God don’t watch a sexy hot movie,” Gary whispered in reply.

“That’s a load of bullcrap!”

“Shut up! Let me watch, now!”

Five minutes passed with both friends squatting in silence in the bushes, with only the sounds of the insects chirping around them and the cover of darkness for company.

“What’s happening inside?” Oliver whispered.

“Getting bored, huh! Well…the Reverend seems to be enjoying the movie. Ah gross!” Gary exclaimed in a whisper.

“What?”

“He just put his hand inside his shorts. There’s a racy scene going on in the movie. Guy’s a hypocrite. Disgusting!” Gary whispered.

“Yikes. It’s a good thing I didn’t get my glasses,” Oliver observed.

“Yeah…it’s not a pretty site. Wait, what the hell!” Gary whispered urgently.

“What now?”

“Angie just entered the room…wow! She’s wearing…shorts and a tank top! Ummmm!” Gary replied with a whisper, licking his lower lip with his tongue.

“Are you sure you should look?” Oliver asked.

“Cut the crap…wait! Oliver! Something’s going on here. Angie has a gun in her hands!”

“What? What gun?” Oliver asked, squinting inside the window.

“It’s a Colt .45. What the…she’s coming up behind her father…holy crap!”

“What’s happening? Gary? What’s going on?”

“Angie’s aimed the gun at the back of her father’s head.”

“Oh my God! Do you think we should…”

BANG.BANG.BANG.

Both boys were so startled that they fell backwards, their heads hitting the hard ground with a soft thud, their mouths instinctively clamped shut with their hands to suppress their screams of panic.

“Gary?” Oliver whispered.

“Yeah?” Gary whispered in reply.

“Were these gunshots?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Oliver. Angie shot her father. Three times. Oh God,” Gary replied, closing his eyes.

He opened them immediately, because with his eyes closed he could only see the horrible visage of the back of the Reverend’s head exploding like a ripe watermelon and a river of blood gushing out- some of it also spraying on Angie.

“I doubt there is a God if that angel of a girl can shoot her father,” Oliver commented, wiping some sweat off his face. He realized his shirt was drenched too and stuck to his chest.

It was the second time that night he was thankful he had forgotten his glasses at home.

“Oliver?” Gary whispered.

“Yeah?”

“This is our little secret, okay? No one ever needs to know what we just saw.”

“Don’t you think we should call the police and report the crime?”

“And getting caught for trespassing and trying to peep in Angie’s house? No thank you!”

“You’re right. I didn’t think of that eventuality.”

“Besides you just called her an angel yourself. Do you really wanna see her in jail for patricide?”

“No, I don’t. You’re right. We will take this secret with us to the grave.”

“Yeah. Now let’s scoot from here before the whole neighborhood realizes what happened and comes running here,” Gary replied, and tried to think of how to manage sitting up without the top of his head showing above the bushes. If Angela happened to see Oliver and him, he was sure their heads would be the next to explode like watermelons.

“You think the neighbors heard the shots? Angie shot the Reverend point blank,” Oliver whispered, lifting his body off the ground and trying to get his bearings in the dark.

“Yeah, but the sound wasn’t that muted. If we heard it then the immediate neighbors must have heard it too. Shit, someone’s coming. Come on!”

Both boys managed to run away just before the first neighbor knocked on the Reverend’s door three minutes later.