The Fault in Our Pants: A Parody of “The Fault in Our Stars”

Mom and I had to fit everything into one suitcase. I couldn’t carry one, and while Mom could carry two, she’d already filled one with her bongs.

The day of our flight, Mom insisted that we get up early so we could eat breakfast with Dad before he left for work. I ate scrambled eggs while my parents had these homemade versions of Egg McMuffins that they liked.

“Why is breakfast only in the morning?” I asked them.

“Hazel, eat.”

“But why?” I asked. “How did breakfast get stuck with morning exclusivity? Why couldn’t dinner be in the morning, and breakfast be in the evening?”

“When you come back, we’ll have eggs at night,” Dad said. “Deal?”

“I don’t want ‘eggs at night,’” I said. “I want breakfast at night.”

Anyway, I knew it was a bit stupid, but I felt kind of bad for breakfast.

After we finished eating, Dad walked us to the car. He made Mom go over his shopping list for the Amsterdam pot brownie store one final time. “I want ten amnesia trance, five OG kush, five ghost train haze, and ten kushadelic,” he said. “Oh shit, I almost forgot: also three blueberry yum yum.”

Mom and I both gave Dad big farewell hugs. “Hold down the fort for us,” Mom said.

“I will,” Dad said. “And hey, if you guys are having a ton of fun, and wanna stay an extra day or two, or even a week, or a couple of weeks, or a month, it’s totally fine. And if it’s really awesome and you want to get a permanent place there, and only come back and visit here a few times a year, that’s completely cool too. I love you guys.”

“I love you too, Dad,” I said.

“Love you,” Mom said, and she kissed Dad goodbye and drove us off to pick up Augustus.

When we got to Augustus’ house, Mom wanted me to stay in the car to rest, but I went to the door with her anyway. As we approached the house, we could hear shouting inside. At first I couldn’t tell who was talking, but then I heard what was definitely Augustus’ voice yell, “BECAUSE IT’S MY LIFE, MOM. IT BELONGS TO ME!” Mom quickly spun me back toward the car.

“We can’t eavesdrop, Hazel,” she said. We walked back to the car, and I texted Augustus that we were outside whenever he was ready.

I stared at the house for a while. The weird thing about houses is that most of people’s lives happen inside of them, but they don’t look like people. They look like houses.

My phone buzzed with a text from Augustus.

Sorry. Drank directly from the milk carton. Mom gets crazy about that stuff. Be out in a sec.

Two minutes later Augustus emerged from the house and limped down the front walk, a roller bag behind him. “Hi Hazel Grace and Mrs. Lancaster!” he said. To make getting into the car easier, he took off his artificial leg. He climbed into the back seat, put his artificial leg in the cup holder, and Mom started the car.

“Next stop, Amsterdam!” she said.

***

Which was not quite true. Our next stop was the airport security checkpoint. The TSA guy at the front of the line kept shouting how our bags had better not contain any liquids over three ounces. “That rule’s like ten years old,” I said to Augustus. “Do they really need a town crier to announce it every thirty seconds?”

“It’s like having a guy at a stoplight announcing that red means stop,” Augustus said. I laughed.

When we got to the front of the line, the TSA guy looked at my oxygen tank and then stared at me like I was an idiot.

“What?” I said.

He pointed at the tank. “Does this look like less than three ounces to you?” he said.

“No,” I said.

He shook his head, unhooked the tank, and threw it in a blue garbage barrel, which was halfway full of oxygen tanks.

“You can buy another one in the gift shop after security.”

***

We got to the gate about an hour before our scheduled boarding time. The gate area was still pretty empty.

“As much as I hate to leave this hopping party,” Augustus said, “I’m gonna pick up some lunch. Can I get you guys anything?”

“I’m good,” Mom said. “But thank you for asking.”

“Could you get me some dinner?” I said.

Augustus tilted his head at me, confused.

“You mean lunch?” he asked.

“No, I mean dinner.”

He was even more confused.

“Hazel has developed an issue with the rigid time constraints which we apply to meal types,” Mom said.

“I just think it’s embarrassing that we all walk through life blindly accepting that lunch is fundamentally associated with noontime any more than dinner is,” I said.

“I want to talk about this more,” Augustus said. “I think. But I also know this will require my full concentration, so I must eliminate the distraction of hunger. I’ll be right back.”

***

When Augustus hadn’t shown up after thirty minutes, I asked Mom if she thought something was wrong, and she looked up from her magazine only long enough to say, “He probably just went to take a shit.”

Finally, just when they started preboarding people who might need a bit of extra time, and also the assholes who don’t need extra time but claim to, I saw Augustus fast-limping toward us carrying a McDonald’s bag.

“Where were you?” I asked.

“Sorry,” he said. “The line was super-long.” He offered me his hand. I took it, and we walked side-by-side toward the gate to preboard.

“Wait,” I said. “Where’s Isaac? Isn’t he supposed to be flying with us?”

“He is,” Augustus said. “I gave him a little something ‘to help him sleep on the flight.’  It’s actually an industrial-strength sedative which will knock him out ‘til we get there. That way we won’t have to explain away the pilot’s announcements about the temperature in Amsterdam.”

Just then I spotted Isaac, sleeping in a wheelchair, being pushed down the ramp toward the plane by an airplane worker.

“God you’re good,” I said.

***

We’d settled into our three-person row on the plane: Mom in the aisle seat, me in the middle, and Augustus at the window. Augustus took a bite of his burger, then put it down. “Listen, I’m sorry I avoided the gate area,” he said. “The McDonald’s line wasn’t really that long. I just…I just…”

“You were just embarrassed to be seen with a girl with an oxygen tank?” I asked.

“No. I was embarrassed to be seen with a 6.”

That boy. “Well I might be a 6,” I said, “but by the time me and my wolverine nails are done with you, you’re gonna be a negative-two.” And I leaned over and began mock attacking his face.

The PA system beeped and the Fasten Seatbelts light turned on. “Lucky for your face,” I said. I curtailed my attack and we fastened our belts.

The plane pulled away from the gate and began to taxi toward the runway. Augustus, looking a bit nervous, pulled out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth. About three and a half seconds later, a stewardess rushed over. “Sir! You can’t smoke on this plane. Or on any plane, for that matter.”

Augustus was about to explain that he wasn’t actually going to light the cigarette, but before he could get a word out, the stewardess said, “Oh wait, you’re one of the passengers with cancer, right?” He nodded. “My apologies,” she said, and she pulled out a lighter and offered Augustus a light.

“Thanks, but I don’t actually smoke,” Augustus said.

“Well if you change your mind during the flight and decide you want to try it, just let me know,” she said.

***

The pilot announced Flight attendants, prepare for departure, and then the jet engines roared to life and we began to accelerate. Suddenly Augustus’ hand grabbed the armrest, his eyes wide. I put my hand on his and said, “Okay?” He just looked at me. “You afraid of flying?” I asked.

He just kept staring, wide-eyed, as the nose of the plane rose up and we took off. Augustus looked out the window, transfixed, as the houses and cars grew smaller and smaller. I felt his hand relax beneath mine. “We are flying!” he announced.

“Augustus Waters, have you never been on a plane before?” I asked.

He shook his head. “LOOK!” he shouted, pointing at the window. “IT’S A GOLF COURSE!”

“Yes, I can see that,” I said.

“LOOK! IT’S A FARM!”

His enthusiasm was adorable. I couldn’t resist leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

“Just so you know, I’m right here,” said Mom. “If you’re gonna do that, wait for the seatbelt sign to go off and do it in the bathroom.”

Our view of the ground disappeared as the plane went into the clouds, and then a few seconds later the plane emerged above the clouds into the bright blue sky. Augustus pressed his face against the window and became increasingly panicked as he looked around outside.

“WAIT. WHERE ARE THE ANGELS??? WHY IS IT FREAKIN’ EMPTY???”

I couldn’t help myself again and kissed him on the cheek. When obviously-ignorant-Augustus emerged from pretentious-but-subtly-ignorant-Augustus, I literally could not resist.