"You must be Doug," she said with a reluctant, simpering look, like she was trying to smile her way through a bad cookie. Doug would have taken it personally, but he’d seen Cat’s mother before and was pretty sure she always looked like this.
"Yes," he said. "Hello."
"Here for our little Sejal, then."
"Yes," Doug answered, then nodded slowly and deliberately as if his head might come off otherwise. This wasn’t really his area, and he wondered if there was something he was supposed to say or do to produce Sejal faster. He was suddenly anxious he might have to solve a puzzle.
"Mom!" a voice shouted from behind the yellow, and Cat appeared, squeezing herself and Sejal through a gap in the doorframe. "I told you not to answer the door!"
"I don’t remember you saying that—"
"It’s a blanket rule. Bye, now. Going to a movie. Won’t drink or smoke or shoot heroin. Promise not to kill Sejal. Good-bye."
"Hello, Doug," said Sejal as Cat pulled her past and down the path to the driveway. Doug gave chase. When he reached the car, they were already climbing into the backseat.
"Oh, hey, you can have shotgun, Cat," said Doug.
"Naw, you go ahead. Back here me and Sejal can talk in our secret girl language."
"It’s mostly hand signals, no?" said Sejal.
"Hand signals and telepathy," said Cat. "Hey, Jay."
"Hi."
They pulled out into the road and a clammy silence fell over the car.
"Has anyone seen this movie before?" asked Jay.
"No," said Sejal, "but I have heard about it. And I like Tim Curry."
"Is that, like…a spicy dish?"
Sejal laughed. "It is a spicy man. An actor."
Now Doug was jealous of Tim Curry. He didn’t even know who that was.
"Ophelia’s told me about it," said Cat. "And I think Abby has been. People shout stuff at the screen, throw food…I put the music on my player — can we listen to it in the car?"
"Yeah," said Jay. "Pass it up here."
"Can that program you wrote really clean up my music files?"
"Only if you’re running Linux. You’re not running Linux, are you?"
"No," said Cat, "but I totally want to. Open-source everything. You wouldn’t be willing to set it up for me, would you? I’ll buy pizza, it’ll be like a really lame party."
Jay laughed. "Sure."
The music played, and Doug twisted around to look at Sejal, gave her an eye-rolling smile. "Finally, someone will use one of Jay’s little programs."
"Lots of people use my programs," Jay said faintly. "My vlog widget’s been downloaded twelve hundred times."
"Vlog widget," said Cat.
"Vlogwidget," Sejal answered.
"If I ever start a band," Cat said, "I’m naming it Vlogwidget."
They pulled into the theater parking lot, where Abby met them dressed like a syphilitic French maid.
"Oh my god," said Cat as they spilled out of the car. "Look at you."
"Yep," said Abby. "Look at me! Get a good long look, children. You have my permission."
"Yeah, well…I don’t think it would matter if we didn’t," said Doug. "You don’t dress like that to blend in."
Abby smirked. "You guys are such virgins."
All the supposed virgins shared confused looks as Abby led them up to the ticket line, which contained a second and third French maid, a bald-capped hunchback, a man in fishnets and a pleather bustier, another wearing a nude body stocking with muscles drawn in puff paint, and two long-legged girls in glitter-gold Rockettes outfits. Lots of hennaed hair. Also about a dozen other teens and twentysomethings who looked as unremarkable as anyone.
"Abby!" said the boy in the body stocking. They hugged like it had been ages, like the wall had finally come down between France and Nudistan.
"He’s fake naked," whispered Jay.
"Fayked," said Doug. Sejal tittered.
"Are these virgins with you?" the fayked boy asked Abby.
"Why do people keep saying that?" whispered Jay.
"What makes you think we’re virgins?" asked Cat.
"Oh, you just have that look about you. Don’t worry about it. I’ll personally see to it that you all lose your virginity tonight."
A rip-cord laugh buzzed Abby’s lips, while the fayked boy air-fucked their personal space. With each pelvic thrust he chanted, "Group sex, group sex," until everyone but Abby felt the need to take a step backward. Abby feather-dusted his crotch.
It turned out the only virginity the Rocky Horror regulars were concerned with was the kind you lost simply by watching the film in a theater, preferably with a live cast. And there was a live cast here, dressed in the same peculiar ways as the line waiters outside.
"They act out the movie while it plays on-screen," said Abby as Doug and the rest took their seats. "They’re good. I’m second understudy for Magenta, which pretty much means I never get to do a show."
"And you are understudy for the boy there in his underwear?" Sejal asked Fayked.
"No. Why?"
Their row went Fayked, Abby, Jay, Cat, Sejal, Doug. Jay was supposed to sit on the other side of Sejal to cut her off from the others, but when the time came, he failed to stake his claim. Then Adam and Sophie arrived and sat in the next row. Adam turned around.
"Pretty crazy, huh?" he said to no one but Sejal.
"It’s about what I expected," she said.
"Really?"
A toilet paper roll sailed over their heads.
"Hey! Hey!" one of the cast scolded. "No premature ejaculations!"
Doug leaned into Sejal’s armrest. "So…do they do this in India?"
"I don’t know," she answered. "There are a billion people there, so I think the safe answer is yes."
"Maybe after this is over, you and I can—"
"Oh!" said Sejal. "Ophelia made it!"
Ophelia was swishing down the aisle like it was a red carpet, with another wisp of a girl closely following.
"I’m here!" Ophelia sang with a flourish. "Start the show!"
"I thought you had a date with a waiter," said Abby, looking suspiciously at Ophelia’s companion.
"Make room next to the birthday girl!" said Ophelia, in what was clearly some kind of coded reference to Sejal. Doug scowled but moved two seats down, and was reassured when Sejal moved down as well. Now she had Ophelia on her right, and the new girl between Ophelia and Cat. Cat tried to introduce herself but was met with stony silence.
"All right, you lucky bastards!" shouted a cast member. She looked out of place next to the decadently costumed actors around her. If anything, she was dressed for tennis. "You’re about to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show! Do you feel lucky?"
The audience shouted, "YOU’RE LUCKY, HE’S LUCKY, I’M LUCKY, THE BANNISTER’S LUCKY!"
"Jesus," muttered Doug. "What the hell was that?"
"I can see from the frightened and bewildered faces out there that we have some virgins here tonight!" said the girl. "Virgins stand up!"
Doug hadn’t planned to volunteer any information, but Ophelia took to loudly outing all the first timers in their group, so when Sejal stood, Doug did, too. Two cast members stalked the center aisle and examined the crowd like they were selecting a lobster.
"Ooh, you’re cute," said a top-hatted girl to Adam as she took his hand. "You’re coming with me."
A boy wearing nothing but gold hot pants motioned to Sejal. "I like the looks of you, honey. Come down here."
"You don’t have to," said Doug to Sejal, but she was already leaving.
Adam and Sejal were made to stand side by side and face the audience. They were loudly married by a tall boy who wore a nun’s habit over his garter belt and corset. The recitation was much like a regular wedding service but with a greater emphasis on ass play than Doug thought was customary.