Kens Read online

  PENGUIN TEEN

  an imprint of Penguin Random House Canada Young Readers, a Penguin Random House Company

  First published 2018

  Text copyright © 2018 by Raziel Reid

  Cover photograph © Chris Howey; jacket collage © Anthony Gerace

  Cover design by Five Seventeen

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Publisher’s note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Reid, Raziel, 1990-, author

  Kens / Raziel Reid.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 9780735263772 (hardcover).—ISBN 9780735263789 (EPUB)

  I. Title.

  PS8635.E435K46 2018 C813’.68 C2017-905750-2

  C2017-905751-0

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018930583

  Cover and author photo © Chris Howey

  Cover collage © Anthony Gerace

  Cover design by Five Seventeen

  Ebook ISBN 9780735263789

  www.penguinrandomhouse.ca

  v5.3.2

  a

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Also by Raziel Reid

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Kens Glossary

  Part 1: Barbie Syndrome

  Magic Earring

  Don’t Eat

  Beat The Face

  Possessed Doll

  Plastic Place

  Unnatural Selection

  New Edition

  Homecoming Game

  Discount Bin

  Part 2: Life-Size

  The Factory

  Storage Warehouse

  Dip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah

  Pill Bomb

  Shop Till You Drop

  Wall of Mirrors

  Famous Family

  Girls’ Room

  On Doomsday We Wear Pink

  Viral

  In the Closet

  Dreamhouse

  Part 3: Collectibles

  Deconstruction

  Face Off

  Suicide Post

  Fake Hollywood Story

  Willows News

  Over Your Dead Body

  Shelf Life

  Date Night and Accessories Playset

  Teen Talk

  Oreo Barbie

  Sparkle Surprise

  Part 4: Recall

  Haunted Beauty Ghost

  Curvy Model

  Shaving Fun

  Vanity of Vanities

  Video Girl

  Heir Head

  Toy Soldiers

  All Star

  Netflix and Kill

  Showroom Dummies

  Malibu Ave

  Unboxed

  We’re Just Getting Started

  The, Like, Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Bae

  1. Version of babe used by people who have a false sense of coolness.

  “Bae is gonna be all mine while his girlfriend is recovering from having her wisdom teeth pulled.”

  Baphomet

  1. Depicted in Aleister Crowley’s Magick (Book 4) as a divine androgyne and “the hieroglyph of arcane perfection.”

  2. A demon identified in conspiracy-analysis videos on YouTube as being inconspicuously present in pop culture photographs, movies and music videos.

  Basics

  1. People with common taste and behavior.

  Basic: “I shop at H&M and just paid my taxes!”

  Bih

  1. Bitch for lazy hipster faggots.

  Bye Felicia

  1. Goodbye and good riddance. “Felicia” is a person no one cares about.

  “Lady Gaga said she’s quitting music to focus on acting…‘Bye Felicia!’ ”

  2. A phrase coined in the stoner comedy film Friday.

  Everything

  1. Used as an adjective to describe something worthy of worship.

  “Your Brazilian butt lift is EVERYTHING.”

  Extra

  1. Excessive, unnecessary, over-the-top.

  “Her latest mental breakdown was some extra shit!”

  Fosh

  1. A derivative of for sure, which evolved in street vernacular as fo sho, eventually being shortened to fosh.

  Gagging

  1. Shocked, mesmerized, impressed. Used when something is so fierce you can’t help but gag over the fabulosity of it all.

  Gur

  1. Version of girl originated by gangsters but most often used by suburban white girls.

  “I don’t know, gur, I think Orlando’s penis is bigger than Justin’s.”

  Hella

  1. Originated in the Bay Area, hella is commonly used in place of really or very when describing something.

  “Poor people are hella gross.”

  2. Supplemental; infers a great quantity of something, or its success.

  “I made hella bills on that pole.”

  3. An affirmation.

  Ken 1: “I’m, like, so skinny.”

  Ken 2: “Hella.”

  Hunty

  1. An amalgam of honey and cunty.

  2. A colloquialism affectionately used amongst the drag queen community.

  “Your performance was on point tonight, hunty!”

  Kiki

  1. A small get-together/party almost always involving vodka.

  “Math class is tough. Let’s have a kiki instead.”

  Lit

  1. Turned up.

  “Aspen was lit.”

  2. Intoxicated.

  “I was so lit for first period.”

  Living

  1. To love the moment or thing.

  “I’m LIVING for his nude Snapchats.”

  Reading

  1. Clever and bitchy judgments.

  2. The act of pointing out a flaw in someone else, exaggerating it and publicly shaming them.

  3. It’s, like, an art.

  Spill the tea

  1. Divulge. A term started within the gay community of San Antonio, Texas, inspired by the idea of having old Southern tea parties filled with gossip.

  Thirsty

  1. An individual who is desperate for attention or approval.

  Examples include:

  • an Instagram account filled with nothing but selfies

  • that guy who hits on every girl in a group of friends

  • celebrities who tip off the paparazzi before going to Starbucks

  Thot

  1. An acronym for That Hoe Over There; commonly used in the wrong context to describe someone trashy.

  Correct usage: “Thot thinks she’s going to be set for life if she gets knocked up by the reality star.”

  Incorrect usage: “That chick is such a thot; I can totally see her tampon string hanging out of her mini-skirt!”

  2. A contemptible person.

  ’Zif

  1. Abbreviation of as if, meaning “Yeah right.”

  Peasant: “Hey, Ken, wanna go on a date to Dreamhouse this weekend?”

  Ken: “ ’Zif!”

  MAGIC EARRING

  The gym class runs laps in unison.

  The Kens are flawless. Ken Hilton, in baby-pink short-shorts and white socks pulled up to his knees, is at the helm. No one runs faster th
an him: not Ken Roberts, who wouldn’t dare, but not even Ken Carson, who is technically the jock Ken.

  There are minor differences in each Ken, but they’re all made from the same face sculpt. Literally. Ken Hilton’s dad is a plastic surgeon, and they have each been created from the same mold, with nothing much distinguishing them from their tiny plastic muse. Except that the Ken doll has more humanity. If the Kens were their own Disney movie (the first Disney movie ever to be rated R), then Ken Hilton would be the evil queen, Ken Roberts would be the princess and Ken Carson would be Prince Charming. Willows High is their kingdom.

  Willows High is the prettiest school in Willows, Wisconsin. It looks more like a luxury department store than a school, with classrooms that could be display windows (Hermès throws over the backs of desks in case you catch a chill, lighting from the sides of the room and never from directly above to avoid unflattering shadows), and a student body more accessorized than mannequins. It’s located in the exclusive Willows Hills neighborhood, a.k.a. The Hills.

  The Hills looks like a higher dimension. The sun shines at an eternally positive angle to fair Venus off the topiary (doll heads, unicorns, atomic bombs) visible on the sprawling boulevards. Glass-box mansions jut from the hillside and glisten; infinity pools spill through time. All of Willows is pristine. Days pass as if choreographed and designed. If you go out far enough, eventually you’ll hit a wall. Down on the Mainland, which is what everyone calls the neighborhood surrounding The Hills where last season lives, sit row after row of dollhouses on streets so polished you can see your reflection. Each house has a dog, a white-picket fence and porcelain flowers in the garden.

  Tommy can feel his breath getting shorter as he runs, and he blinks through a bead of sweat dripping from his eyebrow, imagining an inexplicable gust of wind blowing through the gym, messing everyone’s hair but leaving the Kens’ perfectly styled.

  Kens only use Dippity-Do gel; they order it by the gallon (and Ken Roberts even has a tramp-stamp tattoo of the logo). Ken-hair always looks like a part of their immaculately toned body, an extension of synthetic gold flesh. The Kens never sweat. No matter how much a Ken exerts himself (for example, ripping tags off designer clothes, holding up a diamond to a loupe, double-fisting double vodkas), he doesn’t perspire. He just gets a little extra sheen. Like he’s brand new. Straight out of Satan’s doll factory.

  Soul sold separately.

  “Could Ken Hilton’s shorts be any shorter?” Allan puffs on his inhaler.

  “If a teste isn’t hanging out they’re not shorts,” Tommy says. “That’s Ken 101.”

  Some say it’s their blog, SoFamous.tumblr.com—home to celebrity gossip and merciless student-body rumors—that elevated the Kens past the established high-school nobility: the jocks and their bitch kids of Instagram girlfriends.

  But Tommy always thought it was the butt implants.

  @KenHilton

  666k followers 0 following

  Ken Hilton has a private account—not that he’s discreet about anything. He has one of his minions curate his profile to ensure he maintains 666k followers at all times. There are thousands rumored to be on the waiting list, including Tommy. Always the requested, never the verified.

  Tommy and Ken Hilton go way back. Tommy knows his real last name! It’s more dangerous than saying Voldemort. Ken Hilton even makes his parents use Hilton.

  They were friends at school in grade one. The summer before second grade, Tommy and Ken Hilton were at camp together. Tommy had the biggest crush on their youth counselor, Derek, who evoked the eggplant emoji in swim trunks. But Ken Hilton decided he wanted Derek for himself.

  The drama queen would pretend to be drowning in the lake just to be rescued by Derek, or at night he’d scream and jump out of his sleeping bag into Derek’s tan biceps because he thought he felt a spider. It worked. Derek was so consumed with Ken Hilton’s needs that Tommy was invisible to him. And if Derek did show him any attention, Ken Hilton found a way to come between them.

  One night around the campfire when Derek was helping Tommy make a s’more, Ken Hilton swung the flaming marshmallow off the end of his stick right at him. It landed on Tommy’s cheek and left him with a small burn scar. Derek blamed Ken Hilton for being careless, and Ken Hilton blamed Tommy for being a cock block.

  Shortly after camp, Ken Hilton blocked Tommy. He’d been replaced.

  @KenRoberts

  1.1m followers 1,762 following

  Ken Roberts is captain of the cheer squad and queen of Instagram. Okay, so he bought a million of his followers. He still gets asked by various fashion labels to post ads modeling their clothes. His feed is all ruffled pink crop-tops that say “Daddy” across the chest.

  Tommy remembers Ken Roberts pre-factory, when he was named Evan. The shy, chubby kid who sat at the back of the class and ate paper. Ken Hilton tormented him relentlessly before dropping Tommy and introducing his new toy to a life of selfies and starvation. Evan had mousy hair and baby cheeks and a horse named Dancer. He loved all animals. But that changed when he became Ken: Fur Fag Edition.

  He’s still into horses. Or at least horse tranquilizers.

  @KenCarson

  450k followers 376 following

  Ken Carson is in the closet. He’s straight! Tutti told Tommy that she caught him going down on Francie Fairchild in the girls’ locker room.

  When Ken Carson moved from Malibu to Willows for sophomore year he was a tan surfer dude with a hot car, so he was hella confused as to why he wasn’t more popular. Even when he upped his steroid intake and was made tight end for the Barks, Willows High’s football team, he didn’t hold the same rank he had at his old school. He learned that at Willows High if the Kens don’t receive you, you’re nobody.

  Ken Carson knew what he had to do if he wanted to rule. He had to go gay for slay!

  (You have to be gay to be a Ken. They’re of the one and ten percent.)

  Soon after sending Ken Hilton nudes and meeting him under the bleachers, he was in.

  The gym class stops running laps when Ken Hilton makes a scene.

  “I lost my earring!” he gasps, clutching his ear, which is allegedly the last real part of his body.

  Ken Carson relaxes his glutes. “Dude, no way!”

  “I’m going to kill myself,” Ken Hilton cries, his tears matching his crocodile sneakers.

  “What are you waiting for?” Ken Roberts shrieks at the rest of the class. “Find Ken Hilton’s diamond or even more blood will spill for it!” Ken Roberts is higher pitched than Truman Capote. Not that the Kens know who Truman Capote is. They may eat breakfast at Tiffany’s, but books aren’t for reading—they’re for snorting lines off of.

  The students scan the floor. Tommy and Tutti get on all fours, hoping they will be the one to find Ken Hilton’s earring. Allan crouches down but doesn’t really look. He rolls his eyes behind his round-lens glasses. While Tutti is the Kens’ number one fan girl, and Tommy is a total masochist for their approval, Allan has no respect for the Kens. He thinks they’re evil, and he thinks being evil is a bad thing.

  “What does it even look like?” Allan asks.

  “It’s a pink stud,” Tutti says. “Ken Hilton alone can give pink the nerve of red.”

  The Kens wear an earring in their left ear like Earring Magic Ken, the Mattel doll they model themselves after. Earring Magic Ken was the first gay Ken. Unofficially. He appeared on shelves in the early 1990s wearing a purple leather Gaultier vest over a mesh tank top. His outfit came complete with a chrome cock ring necklace. Mattel insisted it wasn’t a cock ring, but it so obviously was. Earring Magic Ken looked like the stereotypical gay guy of the era you’d find dancing under a disco ball, blinded by strobe lights. He was quickly discontinued. To the Kens, he’s the ideal. Plastic and controversial. They made an effigy of his mannequin head, and burn Kellys in his name.

  Ken Roberts and Ken Carson twerk around the gym pretending to look for the lost earring. Ken Hilton, meanwhile, buries his face in the jer
sey of Barks quarterback Brad Curtis.

  “Don’t worry, bae.” Brad kisses Ken Hilton’s platinum crown. “I’ll find it for you.”

  “I still can’t get over Ken Hilton turning Brad,” Tutti whispers as she and Tommy watch Brad join the search. “He and Francie were going to be homecoming king and queen!”

  “Until Ken Hilton decided a BBD was the must-have accessory of the season,” Tommy quips.

  “A what?” Allan asks.

  “Urban Dictionary that shit.”

  The gym door swings open. A tall, dark and handsome doll enters wearing a black leather jacket and boots crusted with mud. His untied laces whip from side to side as he slowly walks through the maze of crawling students. He stops at half-court and leans over to pick something up off the floor. It glimmers between his fingers.

  “Who is that?” Tutti asks.

  The guy walks right up to where Ken Hilton is standing. Tommy watches nervously. Engaging with Ken Hilton is more formal than engaging with the Queen. You have to bend the knee and kiss his ass while you’re down there, and then he may dignify you with oral—speech, that is—but most likely he’ll give you a dirty look, pretend to be talking to someone on his iconic pink-rhinestone iPhone, and wave you away like an unattractive guy at Dreamhouse, the Kens’ favorite nightclub.