by Mike Leon
Trevor’s fingers gently tickle the flesh of Jenny’s board smooth midriff, working in slow circles and barely contacting her skin at all. He has been at it for an hour without once attempting to reach for her crotch or anything gross like that. This boy really has the trifecta of perfect boys: rich, good looking, and sensitive. He’s so much more worldly and intellectual than the boys she dated in high school. Trevor reads poetry and can recite Shakespeare, and he compliments her all the time, and has such good manners. If she didn’t know better she would think he was gay.
“Maybe you should get in the game with them,” Jenny suggests, half asleep from three bottles of beer and Trevor’s massaging hands.
Across the den, Adler, Carter and Gavin hover over the big maple pool table, chugging Bud Light and betting on the game.
“I don’t know how to play pool,” Summer says.
“It’s easy. You hit the balls into the holes,” Trevor says. “If those guys can do it, anybody can.”
“I don’t know.” Summer squeaks with ultra-girlish insecurity. “It looks hard.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
“I don’t want to—oooh! I love this song!” The song to which she is referring is Buckcherry’s 2006 Billboard charting Crazy Bitch, which somehow made it into Jenny’s iPhone mix, despite her better taste. “Let’s dance!” Summer hops up from the arm of the sofa, bouncing with the excitement of a preteen who just won free concert tickets from a radio promotion.
“Ummm,” Jenny searches for a reason not to get up from the couch and Trevor’s gentle caresses.
“Jenny’s ankle has been bothering her since the ATVs,” Trevor says, coming to her rescue.
“Yeah. That,” Jenny quickly agrees.
“Poop,” Summer huffs. “You guys are no fun.” Summer tromps off into the kitchen in search of more booze.
“Good save,” Jenny whispers up at Trevor’s chin.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says, leaning over to kiss her forehead tenderly.
Behind them, an argument has broken out over the pool table. Jenny doesn’t even bother to note who is doing the talking.
“You said, THAT corner! Not THAT corner!”
“Bro, no I didn’t!”
“Bro, yes you did!”
Summer returns through the kitchen door holding a bright red bottle of cranberry Smirnoff and sporting a puzzled look. “Where’d the Everclear go?” she asks.
“It’s not in the kitchen?” Jenny says.
“Nope. Do you think Karen has it?”
Gavin turns from the pool table and shakes his head. “Karen doesn’t drink,” he says.
“Where is she, anyway?” Trevor asks.
“Don’t worry about it,” Gavin says. “I think she needs some alone time right now.”
“Probably doing something boring,” Summer says, just before she swills down a good portion of the Smirnoff bottle and begins to dance by herself beside the couch.
Jenny purrs quietly at Trevor and nudges his ribs. “Maybe we should look for her.”
“I’m comfortable here.”
“What if she’s stealing something?”
“I really don’t think she’s the type to—” Trevor starts, stopping short as Jenny takes his hand and places his index finger in her mouth, works it over with her tongue, then looks him longingly in the eyes.
“I think we should go look for Karen.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Definitely.”
INT. BRUNSWICK RANCH - DEN - NIGHT
“This song is my jam!” Summer shouts from across the den. She holds one arm high above her head like a floppy flag pole as she swivels her hips to the rhythm of the music and guzzles from the Smirnoff bottle in her other hand.
Adler winces as he eye-fucks her from the other side of the pool table. “Damn, that girl is fine,” he mutters. Carter, at his side, nods with approval.
“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Carter says. “Use that Ross Jameson guy’s hypno-powers.”
“It’s no good. She isn’t into me.”
“You don’t know that unless you talk to her, bro.”
“Nah. I know. She’s only into white dudes.”
“Bro. No, bro. Who said?”
“I can just tell, bro. With white girls, certain ones crave that dark meat, and other ones won’t touch it, and there’s no in-between. You get a sense. Like a sixth sense. You know, bro?”
“Why’s she dancing like that then?”
Gavin gives them an annoyed look from the other side of the table. “You gonna keep whispering in the corner or take your shot?”
“Bro?” Carter says. “What’s with the attitude, bro?”
“Sorry, bro.” Gavin apologizes. “I’m just feeling kind of douchey right now. Some shit that happened. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s all good, bro,” Adler says as he twists a cube of blue chalk on the tip of his pool cue. “When we’re done here, we can roll up a fat spliff and get you higher than the space station, bro.”
“It’s Karen. You know, this isn’t her thing at all. I invited her up here basically just so she could buy us beer, and I was surprised she even came. I never thought about it. She’s my best friend, man.”
“My best friends are them titties, right there.”
Summer gyrates on top of the expensive Italian leather sofa now, twirling in a slow circle as she sloughs her top off and drapes it over a lampshade. Her mountainous breasts rock back and forth as she twirls. “Wooooooooooo!” she howls at the ceiling. “Gavin, look at me! I’m dancing on the couch!”
“Mmmmm,” Adler grunts as he watches those gorgeous sweater puppies frolic. “Bro…”
“That’s cute, Summer,” Gavin says. He waves dismissively, without even turning to look at her.
“Bro,” Carter shakes his head, wide-eyed as he ogles her gozongas. “If he wants to punt, I’m picking up the ball.”
“I was a total ass,” Gavin says, continuing on about Karen without anyone else’s interest. “I didn’t even consider her feelings at all. I didn’t know she felt that way. And then I basically called her ugly. What kind of shitty ass friend does that?”
“Bro, chill out,” Adler says. “We’re here to have a good time and relax. Karen will come around, bro. It wasn’t meant to be.”
Carter points at the table. “I got twenty dollars that says fifteen in the corner, eight in the side.” He leans across the table to line up his shot.
Summer jumps down from the couch and makes a disheartened expression at the boys as the song changes to a slow Weeknd tune that is not particularly danceable. She picks up her shirt and disappears into the kitchen.
“Where’s Summer going?” Adler wondered aloud.
“I probably made her mad too,” Gavin says. “It’s all I’m good for.”
“Whatever, bro. You land poon like Roland Martin pulls in bass.”
Carter takes the shot. The fifteen does not make it into the corner, and the eight ball ends up in the middle of the table. “Shit!” Carter barks.
Adler laughs.
“Double or nothing on this next shot!” Carter demands.
“Whatever, bro,” Adler says. “I keep making money off of you like this and I won’t need to finish college.”
Gavin, still downtrodden and frowning at the floor, keeps on blabbing about Karen, to Adler’s bewilderment. It’s almost like he really likes that chick. “Maybe I should go find Karen and talk to her.”
Before Adler can offer any more wise words, the kitchen door flings open and Summer emerges holding another Smirnoff bottle and a fresh Bud Light. Her pink plaid shirt has returned to her body, tied off across the middle of her chest, a detail that disappoints Adler. She approaches the boys at a brisk pace with her tiny bare feet slapping against the wood flooring as though she is on an important mission. She reaches out with the beer.
“Gavin,” she says. “I saw your beer was low, so I brought you a cold one.”
Adler looks
down at his own beer, of which only a micrometer thick film remains lining the inside of the bottle, and her motive becomes abundantly clear.
“Sure,” Gavin nods, taking the beer bottle from her. “Thanks, Summer.” He looks around the den in mild confusion before his eyes settle on Adler. “Adler do you have the bottle opener?”
Summer yanks the bottle from his hand while he is looking away. “Let me get that for you,” she tweets.
Gavin starts to protest, making some mild and pointless utterance, but stops as she lowers the beer between her knees, then pushes it up into her tiny denim micro skirt. She winces ever so slightly as the Bud Light plunges even deeper between her thighs. Then she twists the bottle and yanks it free, returning it to Gavin with frosty mist swirling from the open top.
“Bro…” Carter whispers, his chin hanging.
“Bro, I know.” Adler replies.
Summer leans against the side of the table close to Gavin, turning up to look him in the eyes. “How does it taste?” she asks.
Gavin is speechless. “Uh, it, um…” he mumbles. He sips from the bottle. “Good. It’s good.”
“Uh-oh,” Summer murmurs in coy dismay. “I don’t know where the bottle cap went.” She bats her eyelashes rapidly at him. “Will you help me look for it?”
“Yes!” Gavin shouts, entirely too loudly. “I mean, yes,” he repeats, more quietly this time. “Definitely. Yes I will.”
“Come on then.” She takes his hand and leads him from the den while Adler and Carter watch in total astonishment. Gavin takes his pool cue with him, likely unaware that it is still in his hand. After they are gone, Adler finally breaks the silence.
“That girl, bro. Damn. So fine,” he says.
“What do we do now?”
“I got to smoke a fucking coner after that. My nerves, bro. I just want to get my dick wet now. You know? Like I’d take anything, just as long as I get my dinky stinky.”
The kitchen door bursts open loudly, drawing Adler’s eyes to it. He half expects it to be Gavin returning to leave the pool cue behind, but that isn’t the case. Instead, Karen hobbles through the doorway, slowly swaying from side to side. Seemingly unable to direct her eyes with any independence from her head, she jerks her face around to glare at the boys.
“Gavin?” she slurs. “Are you Gavin?”
“I’m not Gavin,” Carter answers before Adler can think of anything cute to say.
“I’m looking for Gavin,” Karen says. She grips the hem of her knit brown sweater and pulls it up over her head, then drapes it over the sofa. All that remains to cover her chest is a very casual looking skin tone Jockey bra. “I’ll show Gavin a sexy babe! Are you Gavin?”
“I’m whoever you want me to be, baby,” Adler says.
“Girl, you are shit-faced!” Carter laughs.
“You’re Gavin, silly.” Karen shambles toward him like a movie zombie, clumsily unzipping her corduroy pants as she goes. Much like Adler suspected all along, Karen has an absolutely killer set of cans, but her granny panties are a laughable surprise. “You’re a jerk. Jerk. You’re a jerk. And you see this? See these rrrrrrrrrockin’ tits? You better look at them now because… Because… You’re never...Because...”
Karen falls forward, flopping against the hardwood and coming to rest on her left shoulder, her pants half down, her glasses bent and crooked. She peels her face up from the floor just long enough to whimper “Gavin.” Then she’s out like a light.
Carter stoops over her prone form and pokes her, but she responds only with a tired moan.
“Bro,” Adler says. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
EXT. BRUNSWICK RANCH - BARN - NIGHT
Gavin squeezes Summer’s body between him and the side of the cabin. He can feel her mammoth breasts pressed up against his chest. She smells like lavender and she sounds like a squeaky chew toy—which he thinks he likes. He curls his fingers under the bottom of her skirt as they kiss, but she snatches his hands.
“You really want to find that bottle cap, don’t you?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” Gavin says, nodding voraciously.
“Well, if you want it, you have to chase it!”
Before he can respond in any way, Summer slips out of his hands and dashes through the yard, her bare feet slapping on the grass as she goes. She looks back, giggling at him as he shrugs and gives chase.
“You’ll never get away from me,” Gavin shouts, but Summer is surprisingly fast for a short little shoeless chick. She sprints hard out into the night and Gavin has to hustle to catch up. As he closes the gap between them, she turns and runs for the barn on the edge of the woods, now shrouded in darkness, its brown-red planks appearing black in the shadows.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Gavin shouts.
“What are you, chicken?” Summer laughs back at him as she is fully enveloped by the inky blackness of the entrance to the barn. Gavin stops outside, breathing heavily from his run, as he leans in through the huge barn door, trying to make out anything at all through the curtain of darkness.
“Summer?” he calls out, as he cautiously sets foot into the barn, taking extra high slow steps to avoid tripping on anything.
“Boo!” Summer shrieks as she wraps her arms around him from behind. Gavin nearly leaps out of his skin.
“Shit!” he barks. “How can you see in here?”
She snickers nervously. “I don’t know. I’ve just been in here a lot I guess.”
“It’s pitch black!”
“Here!” A click and a snap accompany the flood of yellow-hued incandescent light from a bulb over them. Summer stands with her fingers still pinching the thin white string that goes up to the light fixture. Gavin winces briefly from the brightness, then glances around the barn and is fully surprised by what he sees.
The whole room is filled with cutting tools.
Hacksaws, bonesaws, chainsaws, two-man saws, kaiser blades, sling blades, drawknives, machetes, scythes, sickles, hay knives, head spades, seaxes, pitchforks, weeding knives, pruning shears, averruncators, meat cleavers, butcher knives, and liston knives line the walls of the barn. On a table near the rear of the room is a heavy-duty meat slicer, like the ones they have at the Kroger deli for cutting lunch meat. Next to it are several large air tanks, like scuba divers wear, and an assortment of either drills or hose heads with which Gavin is not familiar.
“What the fuck!?” Gavin yelps. “Does the Manson family live here?”
“Oh,” Summer giggles. “Jenny’s dad owns a bunch of butcher shops. He has all kinds of scary stuff for like cutting up cows and stuff. It’s weird. Want to see something really cool?”
Gavin is uncertain how to answer and he takes his time. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Summer skips up a short flight of galvanized steel stairs to a railed landing that is over Gavin’s head. He spends a few seconds enjoying the view from below her before she beckons him up the stairs. At the top of the landing Summer directs his attention over the rails and down to an enormous green box containing two massive steel shafts that look sort of like corkscrews blown up to the width of telephone poles. A hulking engine is affixed to one end of the box and the entire machine is the size of a semi-trailer.
“What is it?” Gavin says, looking down in awe.
“It’s The Shredder,” Summer says. “Jenny’s dad uses it to grind cows into bits. But one time, he put a Toyota Yaris in it, and all that came out were little pieces like Doritos.”
“That’s crazy. Hey, what do you think would come out if we threw in a really sexy eighteen-year-old college coed?” Gavin grabs Summer and presses her body up against the railing.
“Eeee! Don’t!” she squeaks. “That would be really mean!”
Gavin tightens his bulging arms around her. “You’re not getting away from me this time.” He finds her neck with his tongue and begins kissing under her jaw as he undoes the knot keeping her shirt together. Her breasts are even more spectacular when his hands are on them. The skir
t practically falls off on its own, and he removes her panties with his teeth as she lies down on the metal flooring at his feet. She has a pink heart vajazzled over her vajayjay.
“Wait,” she implores in his ear. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
“I have condoms in my jacket,” he whispers. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Gavin, no,” she whispers back with a faint whine, as he pulls a purple packaged Trojan condom from his pocket and drops it beside her. “You can still get AIDS even if you use a condom.”
“I don’t have AIDS.” Gavin snorts before he considers what she might be implying. “Uh...Do you have AIDS?”
“No!” Summer shakes her head in vehement denial. “Of course not! I’m a virgin.”
Gavin laughs at the absurdity of her joke as he shakes the bottle cap free from her lace underwear into the shredder below. “Yeah. Right.”
Summer rests her back against the railing and cups both hands over her bedazzled lady parts. “That’s what I need to talk to you about, Gavin. True love waits.” She lifts her left hand in front of his face to flash the silver purity ring bearing that same phase.
Gavin chills into the slow realization that she is not joking with him. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Gavin. I don’t go all the way. First the ring, THEN the thing.”
“And you have a mnemonic device for it?”
“First find the one, THEN have fun.”
“Of course you do.” He sighs.
“God will love you when you’re dead. Unless you waste your maidenhead. Then Satan takes your soul instead. So keep it in the marriage bed.”
“Is that like a Christian rock song?”
“It’s from Patience Patrol. You should come to one of their shows with me.”
“Thanks, but that doesn’t really sound like my kind of thing.”
“Gavin, it’s wrong to give in to lust. It puts your relationship with God at risk.”
“I understand. It’s just—did you have to wait until now to tell me about this?”
“I’m sorry, Gavin. I know you’re disappointed, but I promise anal is just as good as the real thing.”