by Amy Rachiele
“You are such a goof.” I giggle. “I’m going.” I put my hands up in defeat. I go to pay for the ice cream. I order my favorite, mint chocolate chip.
We sit with Alessandra and her friends for a few minutes while we finish. Troy pulls my hair, tells Alessandra outrageous stories about us, and is his usual dynamic self. Alessandra is acting odd. She is giving Troy a major once-over. I think she likes what she sees. I haven’t spent more than five minutes with her until now, so I guess this could be her normal.
“Well, we should be getting back,” I announce, standing, and Troy follows suit.
But Alessandra pipes up, “Did you tell Troy about my party Saturday night?”
Whoa! Where did that come from? “Ummm, no.”
She speaks to Troy. “I’m having a party this weekend. I would love for you to come—with Megan, of course,” she adds.
“As much as I would love to spend more time with my besty,” Troy states with fake conviction, putting his arm around me, “I’m heading to Notre Dame this weekend to join the world of collegiate academia.”
“So you’re college bound, huh?” Alessandra wonders, smiling.
“As hard as it is to believe, yes,” he reveals, bowing like the weirdo he is.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you around when you’re home on break.”
“I don’t think so.” He swivels his head, scanning the surrounding area. “I don’t believe I even live around here.”
It’s truly a good thing that Troy is handsome, because with the way he acts, people tend to think he’s a nut-job.
“Megan!” He pats the top of my head and speaks in a fake panic. “Megan!” He’s feeling my head all over like a dweeb. “Is that you?” He looks down at me. “Oh, sorry. I was temporarily blinded by your hair.”
I elbow him hard in the ribs. “Shut up.” I look at Alessandra. She’s smiling at me. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
The ice cream was delicious and just what I needed. We hit block two, and find that some kids have opened up the fire hydrant there. A heavy stream of water is spraying all over the road. Barefoot kids are running, jumping, and kicking the cold water. We stop to watch.
Troy looks down at me, and an evil grin spreads across his face. It takes one second for me to register what he’s thinking, and I start running. I don’t even get a step away, and he tosses me over his shoulder and heads straight for the hydrant.
I yell and fight. I even smack him in the butt, but he smacks me back. I try pleading with him, but to no avail. He plops me directly in front of the heavy, cold stream of water. I let out an earth-shattering screech. My clothes and hair are immediately soaked. He holds me so I can’t move. Troy’s getting wet too, but not like I am. I try to dodge out of his reach, and he thrusts me back.
I lunge to get out of the stream, but he’s too fast. He grabs me and forces me back to the spot directly in front of the water. We’re struggling and laughing. I’m squirming and feeling like I’m in a wet T-shirt contest. The kids are egging Troy on. They think we’re hysterical. The commotion is enough to wake the dead.
Troy notices something over my shoulder, and I feel him stiffen. He doesn’t let me go, though. I’m still held under the rushing water. I look over my shoulder when I hear two car doors slam. The doors belong to a black Cadillac. Uh-oh!
Chapter 8
Marrone! (mar-own): Dammit!
Antonio
I was on the fence about going out with Vito tonight to throw a few beers back. I wanted to unwind after the ass-kicking, but I was tired too. Eventually I decided to go.
I still can’t decide if I’m glad I did or not.
I’m sitting with Vito in his car, watching Megan play dirty dancing in the water with some tool I’ve never seen before. I realize I must actually be being punished or tested, or something like that.
She looks like a supermodel in a naughty photo shoot, with her pale skin glistening against her slick wet hair. All of her curves show through the thin material of her clothes. I catch myself licking my lips like a fuckin’ stalker.
I can’t take it anymore. I get out of the car. To do what? I don’t know. Stop it? Talk to her? Find out who this chooch is that she’s with? Kidnap her and take her back to my house? Shit! I am a fuckin’ stalker!
There’s a creeping thought in my brain that this guy might possibly be her boyfriend. It makes me want to hurl and punch him at the same time.
I lean against Vito’s car and light up. “What are we doing, dude?” Vito asks me, having climbed out of the car to stand next to me. “You’re acting oobatz! What the fuck is wrong?”
I shrug my shoulders and take a long drag off my cigarette, just watching.
“Do we need to fuck this guy up or something?”
I don’t answer him.
Vito goes quiet, resting his hand against the door of his car. Without warning, Vito starts laughing uncontrollably. “I know what this is!” he bellows between fits of laughter. He slaps his hand on the roof of his car. “I got it! You fuckin’ like her! You don’t just want to screw Red! You… You like her like a girlfriend. Holy shit! I never thought I’d see this day!” He’s getting louder, and he’s really pissing me off.
“Keep your fuckin’ voice down,” I warn. I flick my cigarette butt and glare at him.
“So what do you want to do? Mess up this chooch?” he asks, getting serious.
I look over at Megan and her whatever and they’re staring at us. Probably wondering what we’re doing. At least they stopped fooling around.
“Nah, I can’t do that. She’s already petrified of me,” I disclose, disgusted.
Yeah, I want to mess him up, but I can’t. It would hurt her. I reach for the door handle to Vito’s car and get in. I guess I achieved what I wanted. They stopped, and I realize the only person I want her doing that shit with is me.
Vito pulls away from the scene. It was like any guy’s fucking nightmare involving a girl he likes. “Ugh!” I punch the dashboard. “I’m in fuckin’ trouble, dude!”
Vito laughs, “Yeah, you are.”
He drops me off at home, and I sit on my bed replaying beautiful Megan in the water. She was so carefree and breathtaking. I’m still hard from watching her. Who was that fuckin’ guy? He had his hands all over her. Jealousy sweeps through me, and I know that I’m losing the battle. I can’t stay away from Megan.
Buzzing sounds from my dresser. I pick it up. It’s a text from Alessandra.
Alessandra: You home?
Antonio: Yup
Alessandra: I’m coming over.
Ten minutes later, I’m still lost in my boiling jealousy when my bedroom door opens and Alessandra walks in.
“Hey, San.” I’m too depressed to even get up off the bed.
“Hey,” she says, plopping down in my desk chair.
I sit up. “What were you talking to Megan about this morning?” My interest is totally piqued.
“Oh… I was doing you a favor.” She walks to the bed where I’m lying. She pokes me in the chest over and over.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. I’m sick of you looking like a stunad whenever she’s around.”
“What?” I quickly sit up.
“How stupid do you think I am?” she bites out sarcastically. “I have known you way too long for something like a crush on the Irish Princess to slip by me. It’s just gotten to the point that you’re getting pathetic.”
“Huh?!”
“Oh, puh-lease, Tonio!”
I hang my head. She knows. Everybody knows. Even my grandmother knows.
“So.” She beams, “I invited her to my house on Saturday night.” What?! “And I got her phone number! I think you should call her.”
“My father will shove my feet into cement and throw me in the river!”
“What? Why?” San asks incredulously.
“Because my father gave me and everyone else the ‘don’t date her; don’t fuck her’ speech about five years ago.”
“Whoa! Stop right there!” My heart halts in my chest. “What are you talking about?”
“I was at DeMarra’s Ice Cream and Megan shows up with some guy. Well, they show up running, actually. They were racing or something…” She trails off. “Anyway, I went up to Megan to say hi, and we all started talking. Troy’s very funny. He made me laugh so hard… He starts college next week, so he can’t come to the party, but… I hope I see him again… I want to…” San was talking a mile a minute.
“Stop! You know the guy’s name? Is he her boyfriend?” I practically yell.
“You know, I was gonna ask her, but I got different vibes. I got the brother/sister vibe and the boyfriend vibe. I was planning on texting her to ask.”
“What? You besties with her now?” I ask, feeling slighted. “Besides, I get the boyfriend vibe.”
“What do you mean?” San looks disappointed.
“They were putting on a fuckin’ wet’n’wild show an hour ago at the fire hydrant near her house. It was fuckin’ disgusting.”
“How disgusting?”
“Wet, clingy clothes and hands all over. Laughing too. There was lots of damn laughing.”
“Hmmm.” She grabs her phone. “I’m gonna text her.” San types on her phone and shows it to me:
Boyfriend or crazy friend? LOL
I look at the text. “Why LOL?”
“He was really crazy,” she says, grinning.
Alessandra sends the text, and we sit in silence, waiting. I feel sick to my stomach. My heart is pumping way too hard. The anxiety is killing me. Friend I can deal with. I think. Boyfriend? I think I will fuckin’ kill someone—starting with Troy. Troy? What kind of an asshole name is that? Wasn’t that a country like a thousand years ago? What if she doesn’t see the text? I don’t think I can stand the wait. I’m just about to suggest that San call her when I hear my father call me.
“Tonio! Come down here!”
“I’ll be right back.” I leave Alessandra.
I jump down the stairs and see my dad standing with Donny in the living room.
“Yeah, Pop?”
“I know school just started, but I need you to go with Donny tomorrow. You need to help get a few things done for me.”
“Sure, Pop, no problem.” My thoughts dip even lower because now I know I definitely won’t see her tomorrow. I open my bedroom door and San is right there, holding her phone in my face. The screen says:
Friend
My heart spikes! I’m instantly relieved. I never want to feel that way again. It’s time to do something about my feelings for Megan. I just hope my father doesn’t pound my fuckin’ face in.
***
I don’t just miss one day of school. It’s going on day three. Donny and I have collected over twenty thousand dollars and fucked up two people. Donny lets me know that the farther he has to travel and the more time he wastes tracking them the more he fucks them up. We take turns. Each time Donny tells me exactly what to do. Hit him two times in the face, Tonio. Or Pull the arm back till you hear a pop. That means the shoulder has been dislocated. Donny could have been a doctor in an emergency room. He really knows a lot about anatomy.
I also get to count and organize the money. Donny shows me the way to count large sums of cash. He has money bands with him. When I’m done, Donny checks my counting. Then he hands me ten one-hundred-dollar bills. “Here, your pop said to give you this. You’re doing a great job, Tonio.”
We’re still here in northern New Jersey because we got a runner. We trapped him yesterday, but he evaded us again. We’re in a hotel resting up to go after him in the morning. Donny gives me some ointment for my knuckles. They’re really sore. The ointment shit stinks, but it feels good.
Alessandra has given me Megan’s number. I’m so tempted to text or call her. I have no fuckin’ clue what I would say, though. Somehow I think Hey, how’s it going? I think you’re beautiful. I wish I could see you tomorrow, but I have to beat the shit out of people. Bye wouldn’t work.
She doesn’t even know I have her number, and besides, she’s scared shitless of me. The haunting images of her with that chooch Troy invade my mind. I try to concentrate on last Sunday at church and the red dress.
I need to get out of the hotel room. I have a grand burning a hole in my pocket and pent-up energy from the adrenaline rushes I’ve had over the past three days from beating the shit out of people. Donny’s lying on his bed, watching the news.
“Don, I’m gonna go shopping.”
“Shopping? What the fuck for?”
“I don’t know. I gotta get outta here.”
“Okay, Tonio. Don’t be gone long.”
I take Donny’s keys off the bedside table and head out the door. I drive down the main drag until I come to a huge indoor mall. I park at Nordstrom’s. I decide that I’m going to pick up some of my mother’s favorite perfume.
I’m immediately accosted by sales clerks, some holding bottles of spray cologne. A pretty petite girl with blonde-streaked brown hair and perfect make-up comes up to me.
“May I help you?”
“Uh, yeah. I need a bottle of Chanel.”
“For men or women?” she asks.
“Women.” I follow her to a sales counter covered in jewelry, perfume bottles, and scarves for sale.
“I have the five-ounce or the eight-ounce spray bottle.”
“I’ll take the biggest one,” I tell her. She slides the counter door shut and places the shiny box on the glass top.
“That’ll be eighty-five dollars, please.”
I grab a hundred out of my pants pocket. The clerk is smiling a little differently at me, playfully. She takes the hundred from me and asks, “Is this for your girlfriend?” I see the look in her eye. I know that look. I get it a lot.
“No, my mom,” I utter, then instantly feel despair. I would take every dime I have and spend it on Megan. I wouldn’t even flinch. In fact, I wish I could. It would make me happy. “What’s the most popular perfume for a girl?”
“How old is she?”
“Your age, eighteen or so,” I inform her.
“Oh, that would be Juicy Couture or Coach Poppy.”
“Can I see those?” I ask, getting excited.
She sprays some stuff on a little piece of white paper and hands it to me. I bring it to my nose. It smells good, feminine. She hands me the next one. It smells even better. But I ask her, “Which one do you like?”
“Oh, I’m a Juicy girl,” she offers, smiling provocatively.
“I’ll take that one then.”
“That will be another eighty-five dollars, please.” She’s still smiling, and her mouth is getting wider and wider. I toss another hundred on the counter, and she hands me my change. The clerk starts to wrap the perfumes and put them in the same bag.
“Can I have those in separate bags, please?”
She laughs. “Sure.” I’m not positive, but I think this girl believes I’m buying her perfume. She puts them in pretty bags and ties each one with a ribbon that has the name Nordstrom running along the side. “Will that be all?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I snatch the bags off the counter. Her face falls, and I book it to the entrance to the mall.
I wander around for a while and pass all sorts of stores selling clothing, make-up, and shoes. I pass Ralph Lauren. I pick up some pants for myself. Then I walk by a jewelry store. The display in the window has all sorts of silver necklaces. I decide to go in. I slowly peruse the necklaces and bracelets.
“Can I help you?” a tall woman in a business suit asks. She has a bracelet of keys dangling from her wrist.
“I’m just looking.” I peer down into the glass.
“Is it for someone special?” she asks.
What am I doing exactly? Why would I
come into a jewelry store? I don’t want anything for myself.
“Do you have anything Irish or Celtic?” I enquire.
“Come right over here.” She points to a tall cabinet made of glass. Inside are intricately made pieces. Some have green stones in them—emeralds, I’m guessing.
“This one is a Claddaugh…” she starts explaining. “The heart means love, the hands mean friendship, and the crown means loyalty. It’s white gold and inlaid with diamonds around the circle. All Celtic jewelry has some type of meaning.”
She hands the delicate pendant to me. It’s beautiful. It’s small, but I don’t think Megan is showy like my mom. I can just picture it resting on her neck against her buttery skin.
I look up at the clerk. “How much?”
“That one is five hundred and fifty dollars, sir.”
“I’ll take it,” I say without hesitation. She smiles at me and goes to wrap it in a nice box with a bow.
When I get back to the room, Donny appears to be sleeping, but when he hears me come in, he jolts and grabs for his gun.
“It’s just me, Donny.”
“Eh, Tonio, what did ya get?”
“Some new clothes… perfume for Mom.” I leave out I got stuff for someone I wish was my girlfriend.
“You’re a good boy.”
The next morning, we get up early. The early bird catches the worm… or the chooch who stiffed my father out of five G’s.
There is a text on my phone from Alessandra.
Alessandra: Where have u been?
Antonio: Running errands for Dad
Alessandra: Will u be at the party?
Antonio: YES!
Donny did some searching on this dude who ran. He has a sister on the other side of town. We arrive at her house at seven in the morning and park on the street a little way down. One thing I’ve learned is that doing this kind of stuff can involve a lot of waiting. I text Vito and Ronnie and ask about school. I search the Xbox website for new games coming out. I play a game of Angry Birds and wait and wait… and wait.
Donny breaks the silence.
“Tonio, tomorrow night, don’t forget you gotta collect from Johnny again.”