Boyfriend Shopping: Shopping for My BoyfriendMy Only WishAll I Want for Christmas Is You
Page 7
“Yeah, if it’s some Fear Factor–type of deal, I don’t want you doing it, Anna. They dare people to drink milk that has spoiled and gross stuff like that,” Jeremy said.
“I can handle that,” I said, feeling confident even though I had never in my life drank spoiled milk. “Besides, I’m doing it for you.”
“Well, I’d show up to cheer you on, and you know what would be really cool?” Lauren asked.
“What?” I asked.
“If we spread the news around the school and got as many students as we could to come to the mall and support you. We could even ask Allison if she would send out an email blast to all of the students who subscribe to her video blog.”
“OMG, that’s an excellent idea,” I said to Lauren.
“Babe, you know I don’t want you to put yourself through something like that,” Jeremy implored.
“It’s my choice,” I said, taking and kissing the back of his hand to ease the sting of my defiance.
“I’ll get on it right way since Allison is in my next class,” Lauren said.
“This is going to be so much fun,” I said, feeling extremely confident that I was strong and brave enough to win.
“See, here are some more details about the disc jockey and how he likes to do that Fear Factor–type stuff.” Mike handed me his iPhone displaying the website he had pulled up.
“Are you pretty sure that he’s going to do this at the mall?” I asked.
“I can almost guarantee that he will,” Mike said.
* * *
Over the next several days, word got around the school about the contest. I also learned that my gut feeling was accurate. Bernita had entered the contest as well and had plans to win the tickets as a way to lure Jeremy into going with her. When I told him of her plan, he said that he wouldn’t go with her under any circumstances and pushed me to drop out and let it go.
“I can’t drop out,” I told him one night during a video chat.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because then I’d look like a loser and a quitter to Bernita. Besides, we exchanged some mean words earlier today about it.” I cupped my hands and tried to rub the tension that had settled on my shoulders. I rotated my head and neck in a counterclockwise direction until I felt my muscles relax and I heard a snap.
“You don’t have to prove anything to her.” Jeremy leaned in closer to his webcam.
“Yes, I do. I have something to prove to her and to myself.”
“What?” he asked.
“It will be a valuable lesson on how to face and deal with my fears,” I said.
“You know, there are better ways to do that sort of thing.”
“I know, but for now, I’m going to do this and embarrass Bernita in the process,” I stated.
“What if she embarrasses you?” he asked.
“Whose side are you on, Jeremy?” I felt betrayed that the thought of Bernita being better than me on any level had entered his mind.
“I’m on yours, of course. I just don’t want to see you get hurt or sick.” He quickly cleaned up his comment.
“Don’t worry. I got this,” I assured him. We spoke a little longer and talked about finals and which teachers were difficult. After a while we ended up saying good-night.
ten
When I located the area of the mall where the radio station had set up a stage, I found crowds of onlookers, many of them from my school, watching people taunting some contestant. I found a station employee, a short woman with brown freckles and glasses. She had on a headset and was carrying a clipboard.
“Have you guys given away the basketball tickets yet?” I asked.
“No. Would you like to try and win them? We’re looking for more people to compete for the tickets,” she explained.
“Yes,” I answered and handed her a parental-consent form that I had downloaded from their website.
“Great. Have a seat right here,” she said. She then went onto the stage and spoke to the Chocolate Jock, the radio personality who had just finished tossing out several T-shirts to the crowd that had gathered. There were several people already onstage, waiting for the shot at winning the tickets. I quickly discerned that if the contestants who arrived ahead of me won, then I would not have a shot at the tickets. This was something I did not anticipate.
“Okay, folks, the next prize we’re going to give away is two courtside tickets to the next Chicago Bulls basketball game, which takes place in a few days on December 27,” the Chocolate Jock said. He was a stout guy with dark brown skin and short black hair. The employee handed him an index card, which he began to read from.
“I’m looking for Antonio and David.” Two guys walked onto the stage and sat behind a table with two covered plates in front of them. The Chocolate Jock explained to the contestants and everyone that in order to win they had to eat one stick of butter covered in cinnamon, mustard, hot sauce and maple syrup. If one of them puked or refused to do it, then they would lose. The crowd cheered the guys on and I thought for certain that they would do it and I wouldn’t get my chance to win. The food was placed on the paper plate and one guy was able to take a bite but immediately spit it out into a nearby garbage bin. The other guy swallowed a bite but couldn’t hold it down.
“Good. They’re history,” I whispered to myself. I saw the radio-station employee who took my information and got her attention.
“Yes?” she asked.
“How many people have signed up for this?” I asked.
“Do you see all of the people sitting in the chairs on the other side of the stage?” She pointed in the direction that I should look. On the other side of the stage I counted fifteen other people, including Bernita.
“All of those people are trying to win?” I already knew the answer before I asked the question.
“Yes,” she answered and went back to the stage.
I sat and watched as one contestant after another tried and failed to eat the stomach-turning dishes that were placed in front of them. I got my turn to compete against a guy. We had to drink soy sauce mixed with orange juice, yogurt and milk. I was able to drink more than he was and moved on to the next round.
Jeremy and the rest of the lunch-table crew along with Allison showed up to support me. I also noticed that Bernita had an equal amount of supporters cheering her on. As the afternoon progressed, other contestants were eliminated and it became clear that there was going to be a showdown between Bernita and me for the tickets.
I walked onto the stage and saw Bernita walking on from the opposite side. Bernita rolled her eyes at me. We both stood next to the Chocolate Jock. I looked out into the crowd and spotted Allison with her video camera. She smiled at me and gave me the thumbs-up sign. I knew right then that she was filming for her video blog. I scanned the crowd again and found Lauren, Sheldon, Jeremy and the rest of the crew.
“Okay, guys. You two are the last contestants. One of you will walk away with two courtside tickets to a Chicago Bulls game. I have to ask. Do you have anyone that you plan on taking to the game?” He placed the microphone in front of my lips.
“I’m planning on taking my boyfriend, Jeremy, who is right there.” I smiled and waved to him.
“No, you’re not!” The words blasted out of Bernita’s mouth like a firecracker that had exploded.
“Wait a minute. Hold on. Do you two know each other?” asked the Chocolate Jock.
“We both go to the same school,” I answered.
“Are you guys friends?” he asked.
“No,” we both said simultaneously.
“Bernita, what are you going to do with the tickets if you win?” the Chocolate Jock asked.
“Take a very special friend to the game and he knows exactly who he is,” she answered, focusing her gaze on Jeremy, who wasn�
�t looking in her direction.
“That ‘special friend’ she’s talking about isn’t going to go with her because I’m his girlfriend.”
“Ooh!” The Chocolate Jock howled along with the onlookers. It was clear that having rivals compete for the prize made the contest all the more exciting.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” said the Chocolate Jock as he signaled for his producer to roll a cart with two small buckets on top of it onto the stage along with two garbage barrels for Bernita and me.
“Okay, here is the deal. When I take the lid off of these buckets, you have to eat whatever is in it. The first person who refuses to eat any more of it or pukes, loses. Now, so that you don’t mess up your clothes, we’ve cut arm and neck holes into some plastic trash bags.” The producer came out and gave us the bags, which fit us like rain ponchos.
“What’s in the buckets?” asked Bernita.
“I’m glad you asked. Inside these buckets is an awesome meal. It has every food group known to man,” said the Chocolate Jock as he removed a sheet of paper from his back pocket. “There is potato salad, macaroni salad and jalapeño peppers in there.”
“Ewww,” the crowd groaned with disgust.
“Wait a minute. That’s just the start of what is in it. There is fish and salsa in it, as well. There is Gatorade powder in there along with jelly doughnuts, mango yogurt and pumpkin pie.”
“Ewww!” the crowd howled out again. The Chocolate Jock laughed.
“Wait a minute. There is much more in there. The other ingredients are creamy ranch dressing, cream cheese, cookies and cinnamon buns.”
“Oh, gross,” I heard someone from the crowd shout out. The Chocolate Jock continued to laugh.
“Okay, the last few ingredients are strawberry Jell-O, brown rice, Tabasco, soy and teriyaki sauce.” I swallowed hard and thought about just shoveling the food in my mouth without tasting it.
“Okay, are we ready?” asked the Chocolate Jock. He did a short countdown and then pulled the lids off. The odor that wafted through the air was so strong it stung my eyes and caused tears to form.
“Here is a spoon for each of you. When I count to three, dig in and eat.” The audience helped the Chocolate Jock count. “One, two, three.”
The crowd taunted by chanting, “Eat, eat, eat.” I peeked inside the bucket and the sight of the food made me want to puke before I took my first bite. I glanced over at Bernita, who had a helping of the food on her spoon. She opened her mouth and tried to eat it, but stopped herself. My eyes were watery, so I smeared away my tears. I spotted Jeremy, who blew me a kiss. I felt encouraged, so I scooped up some of the food, held my breath and swallowed. I started coughing immediately. My mouth was on fire and I wanted water, but there wasn’t any around.
“Ooh,” screamed out the Chocolate Jock, “Anna has eaten her first bite.” I wanted to win at all costs. I wanted to win the tickets for Jeremy. I held my breath again, scooped up more food and swallowed more. This time I clutched the rim of the garbage barrel because I thought I was going to lose it. I forced myself not to. I glanced over at Bernita. Apparently she had taken only one bite and immediately spat it out. I looked at her and hoped that she’d give up.
“Come on, Bernita. Anna has eaten two bites of this. Are you still in?” asked the Chocolate Jock. Bernita was stubborn and didn’t know when to quit. She went and scooped up more. I did the same. This time I held my breath and pinched my nostrils shut and swallowed again. My throat was on fire and I fanned my mouth with my hands to try to cool it off. My stomach grumbled and it threatened to throw a reverse switch and send everything I had swallowed back up and out of my mouth. Bernita put another helping into her mouth and then spit it out again. She finally conceded and I won the tickets. Bernita didn’t stick around. She rushed off the stage and disappeared into the crowd.
The producer of the show gave me a bottle of water, which I gulped down right away. Once my stomach settled and I didn’t feel as if I was going to puke anymore, she took me aside and handed me the tickets.
“Congratulations,” she said. “No one has ever been able to eat as much of that as you did. You must really care for your boyfriend.”
“Yes, I do. The tickets are his Christmas gift,” I said, feeling a knot form in my tummy.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate all that you went through to get them,” she said.
“Yes, I do.” I heard Jeremy’s voice. I looked into his eyes. He smiled and gave me a big hug.
“You are one tough girl,” he said proudly as he helped me take off the plastic garbage bag.
“I did it for you,” I reminded him, hoping he understood how deeply committed I was to making this a Christmas that he would always remember.
“I know and I’ll never forget it,” he said. “Come on. It’s time for me to take my girlfriend Christmas shopping.”
“Wait. First, your girlfriend needs to go into the drugstore for some toothpaste and a toothbrush,” I said, moving toward a nearby pharmacy that was inside the mall. “Then I’ll be ready to shop,” I said with a wink.
eleven
The tickets I won included an opportunity to step out onto the court as a fan and shoot T-shirts into the capacity crowd. When Jeremy learned about that, he was all the more pumped up about attending the game.
Jeremy and I found our premium seats, which were located courtside just one row back from the bench where the team members of the Chicago Bulls sat. Jeremy was so happy and the smile on his face made his eyes sparkle.
“This is the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten,” he said as he took in the moment. “I can’t believe that I’ll get a chance to step out onto the basketball court. Look at the gloss on that floor,” he exclaimed and then looked up at the JumboTron suspended from the ceiling of the stadium. There was a holiday news clip that showed how several players from the team visited a children’s hospital with gifts for sick kids who could not be home for the holiday.
“That’s so sweet that the players did that,” I said as the image of a boy around age six whose head was shaved flashed on the screen. A big smile spread across his face when one of the players gave him a gift and a hug.
“Yeah, that was very cool. And that’s what the holiday season is really about. Giving and caring for those who are less fortunate.” I looped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. A special feeling came over me at that moment and I wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible.
Shortly after the holiday news clip ended, the team members of the Los Angeles Lakers were introduced. Once the starting lineup of the Lakers was complete, the lights in the stadium were turned off. Loud music began to play, flashing camera lights from the crowd began flickering and computer-projected images of the Chicago Bulls logo swirled around the basketball court and crowd. A roar erupted from the crowd the moment the announcer began to speak.
“And now! Your starting lineup for your Chicago Bulls.” The announcer’s voice was gruff and energetic. As the players were announced, Jeremy stood up and shouted for them at the top of his voice.
“Oh, my God, this is awesome,” he said after the lights had come back up. We sat back down and shortly thereafter the game began. At a moment when neither Jeremy nor I were paying attention, Benny the Bull, the team mascot, squirted Silly String from a can onto Jeremy’s head. It was Benny the Bull’s job to be silly and annoying, but it was all in good fun. Jeremy didn’t mind at all and laughed as he pulled the string out of his hair.
By the end of the first quarter, the Bulls were leading by ten points. While the teams were on the sidelines going over strategy, Benny the Bull came back and pulled Jeremy from his seat. It was time for him to shoot T-shirts into the crowd with a giant slingshot. Benny pulled the slingshot back while Jeremy loaded a T-shirt, which was given to him by another Chicago Bulls employee. Once lo
aded, Benny pressed a release button and the T-shirt went sailing into the crowd. People cheered for shirts to be shot in their direction. I watched Jeremy and Benny have fun with getting the crowd involved in their antics.
Another employee gave Benny a basketball, then rolled the slingshot off the court. Benny acted as if he was going to give Jeremy the basketball as a gift. As Jeremy reached for it, Benny snatched it away as if he were a kid being stingy. Jeremy decided to show Benny who he was toying with and seized the moment to showboat. Jeremy stole the basketball from Benny, dribbled it down the court and did a windmill dunk. The crowd roared with wild abandon at the athleticism he demonstrated. Benny the Bull rushed over to Jeremy, grabbed his right arm, held it in the air and pointed to Jeremy as if he’d just won a prizefight. I stood up and cheered for him.
Our eyes met briefly and he said, “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said and blew him a kiss.
* * * * *
MY ONLY WISH
Caridad Ferrer
For my family, both of the blood and chosen variety—you’re my everything.
Acknowledgments
First off, many, many thanks to my wonderful agent, Adrienne Rosado, for being my cheerleader and champion and Chief-Talker-Off-The-Ledge. To everyone at the Nancy Yost Literary Agency and at Harlequin Kimani TRU, thank you.
To my internet family, especially those of you on Twitter and Facebook—you inspire and challenge and help when I ask. I’m eternally grateful that so many of you have transcended the realm of invisible friends in the box to become treasured real-life friends. Thank you for making a very isolated job feel much less so.
To my Writer Girls, Serena, Erin, Cathy and Shannon—I wouldn’t know what to do without you guys.
To my twinling: thank you for being both cheerleader and Chief-Cattle-Prod-When-Necessary.