Girls, Girls, Girls

by Jonah Black

  Shanique said in German, “Ach, Ich mag auf der Beach mit dir leben—”

  “Und Babies machen!!!” Cecily squealed.

  I couldn’t believe it. “How do you guys know Wailer’s pickup line?” I said, in English.

  Shanique and Cecily stopped laughing. They looked a little embarrassed.

  I was feeling pretty angry at this point. Angry at Wailer, and angry at Posie for not seeing through this guy who everyone else in the school knows is a total player. But I still felt like I had to defend her somehow.

  “Yeah, well, I think it might be different this time,” I said quietly. “I think they’re really in love.”

  I think Cecily could tell I was ready to change the subject.

  “So when’s your first diving meet?” she asked.

  We talked this way for a while and then Thorne came in with Wailer. Cecily and Shanique looked at me and stood up. “See you later, Jonah,” they said in unison.

  Wailer and Thorne came over to where I was sitting.

  “Jonah, my man,” Thorne said, raising his glass. “Drinking some vino!”

  We clinked glasses.

  Wailer was watching Shanique as she walked away. She’s got kind of a big chest, and a very muscular-looking butt. She was wearing a thong, too. I could tell.

  “Dude,” he said. “Check it.”

  “Hey, Wailer,” I said. “How’s surfing?”

  “Excellent!” he said, brightening up like a lava lamp. “Waves’ve been awesome all week. You should check it out, Jonah. Why don’t you surf, man, if you dive?”

  I could have sworn we’d already had this conversation, but I don’t think Wailer’s long-term memory is very good.

  “I don’t know. Diving’s more fun for me, maybe?” I said.

  “Diving?” said Wailer, like it was a bad word. “More fun than surfing? Yeah, right.”

  “Well, you’re good at surfing,” I said, trying to be nice. “Posie’s pretty good, too.”

  “Good?” he said, as if I didn’t know anything. “Dude! You look at Posie surfing and you understand the whole connection of the earth, the moon, and the ocean. A chick like that, she’s just totally one with the universe. It’s like she is the wave. She just slips into the shoulder of the gnarliest curler and it’s like music, man!”

  He was getting excited. He looked like he wanted to grab a vine and swing from it, like Tarzan.

  “Man, you gotta try it,” he said.

  “I have tried it, Wailer. I just fall off the board. I don’t know. I like diving. I like the power of it, and the speed. It’s like I’m conquering the water,” I explained.

  Thorne took a big gulp of his wine and laughed. “Conquering the water!”

  But Wailer looked angry. “You don’t conquer water, man! You accept it! It’s not about conquering, man! That’s so freakin’ bogus!”

  “It’s just the way I look at it, Wailer.”

  “Well, it’s a bad attitude,” he scoffed. “Like you’re King Kong trying to crush the ocean’s banana.”

  I thought this was pretty funny since Wailer was the one who looked like he ate a lot of bananas.

  “It’s not an attitude. It’s just something I can do well,” I said. “I don’t like surfing because I’m not any good at it, that’s all.”

  But Wailer wasn’t really listening anymore. He was looking across the room, where Shanique was talking to another girl I didn’t know. I glanced around the room, suddenly wondering if Watches Boys Dive was going to be there.

  “Hey, have you guys ever seen this girl,” I said, “I think she’s Native American? Long straight black hair. Big brown eyes. Kind of quiet and serious-looking? She comes to swim practice every day.”

  Wailer didn’t hear me. Thorne looked interested, though.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about, man. You say there’s some Indian chick who’s got the hots for Jonah Black?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Thorne followed Wailer’s gaze. He was still staring at Shanique’s butt.

  “Hey, Wailer,” Thorne said. “You want to know a secret about Shanique?”

  “Absolutely,” said Wailer.

  “Squeaking balloons drive her crazy. I mean, insane. It’s like her Achilles’ heel. You want something from her, all you need is a balloon,” Thorne said.

  Wailer smiled. “A balloon?” he said. “Hell, man, I got a balloon in my car.”

  Thorne glanced at me. I could tell he was up to something.

  “So,” I said to Wailer. “I hear you’re trying to get Posie to drop out of school, go pro.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Wailer muttered, distracted.

  “Live on the beach and make babies. Is that what you told her?” I said. My heart was speeding up. I was about to pick a fight.

  But Wailer didn’t hear a thing. “Hey, man. I’ll be right back,” he said, heading for the door.

  “You don’t think he’s going to his car,” I said. “I mean, right this second, so he can get that balloon?”

  “I think you can count on it,” Thorne said, shaking his head.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking?” I asked him.

  “I think I do,” Thorne said, clapping me on the back. “Jonah, my friend, I think you’re thinking that Wailer must die. Am I right?”

  I nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Hey, you want to know something?” Thorne said.

  “What?”

  “I just made up that thing about the balloon. You know, for kicks,” he said. “If he really tries to squeak that balloon at Shanique she’s going to think he’s completely psycho.”

  I laughed. Suddenly I remembered why Thorne is my best friend.

  Thorne smiled and clinked glasses with me again. “Hey, I haven’t forgotten about finding that chick’s number for you, okay? I’m working on it.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  I saw this girl Dell Merriwether heading in our direction. Thorne reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses. I frowned at him. Thorne doesn’t wear glasses.

  “Thorne?” I said. “You have problems with your eyesight now?”

  He smiled. “It’s clear glass,” he said, putting them on. “I had them made.”

  “What for?”

  Thorne looked at me like I was stupid. “Jonah, you were never in the Boy Scouts, were you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

  He whispered, “Be prepared, dude!”

  Dell Merriwether came up to us. “How’s it going, Woodman?” she said to Thorne.

  “Outstanding, Miss M!” Thorne said, grinning. “Hey, I read that Dostoyevsky you gave me. Those Brothers K are out of control!”

  “I thought you’d get into that,” Dell said. “I knew it. When I finished the book I was like, whoa, Thorne is going to be all over this.”

  “So do you want to talk about it? There’s this one part in the story where I was like, hey, what’s this about?” Thorne said. Good old Thorne.

  “Sure,” Dell said, “if Jonah doesn’t mind.” She looked at me and smiled. “Have you ever read Dostoyevsky, Jonah?”

  “No,” I said. “Not yet.”

  Thorne winked at me. “You should, man. Literature’s important!”

  The little book club walked outside. As they went through the door, Thorne gave me the thumbs-up sign. I couldn’t believe how he’d transformed himself into Mr. English Professor in like, two seconds. Then I remembered what he’d said about the Boy Scouts, and wondered what else he had merit badges for besides literature.

  Right after they left, Donna, my Cheese Girl, walked in. Her face lit up when she saw me. I think my face lit up, too. As she walked across the room toward me, I could tell she’d been drinking.

  Speaking of drinking, I have a major headache. I think I’m going to leave this for a while and go for a swim.

  (Still Sept. 23, a few hours later)

  Okay, I’m back. Mom and Honey are at
the Coral Springs Mall, looking for clothes. That should be interesting. Honey in Ann Taylor, Mom in Rampage. So now it’s just me at home, down by the dock.

  Back to last night.

  So Donna was all drunk, and she came right up to me and sat down in a heap like it was this huge effort, getting there.

  “How’s it going, Donna?” I said.

  “Honeshtly, Jonah?” she slurred. “I’m pretty drunk.”

  She leaned her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled like cigarette smoke.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  “Hey, Jonah, is it okay if I tell you something?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  Donna hiccupped into her hand. “It’s kind of personal,” she said.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  Her earring was pressing into my shoulder, but it felt nice sitting with her like that.

  “Okay,” she said. “So, it’s like, I mean . . .”

  She stopped talking and closed her eyes.

  “What, Donna?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s . . .” she said, her eyes still closed.

  “It’s okay, you can tell me,” I said, kind of hugging her shoulders.

  Donna shook her head and closed her mouth up tight. Then she lurched forward and threw up on the floor.

  “Ugh,” she gasped. “I’m sorry.”

  I rubbed her back a little. “It’s okay,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Donna didn’t look at me. She just stood up and stumbled toward the door, running outside to where all the cars were parked. I started to follow her, but it was dark and I couldn’t see where she went. Then I saw a VW Jetta roar off down the street. And all I could think was, I hope that wasn’t her. She was way too messed up to drive.

  It’s pretty sad when I think about it now. The only girl that’s interested in me suddenly blows chunks.

  There was no one else around that I knew, so I went over to the door Honey and Smacky had gone through earlier, thinking I’d try to find Posie. The door led to a long, narrow cement hallway that sloped downhill. At the end of the hallway was a heavy door, almost like the door of a bank vault. I pushed it open.

  Now I knew why Honey had called that room “the shelter.” Luna has a bomb shelter in her house! It’s crazy.

  A single blue lightbulb hung down from a wire in the ceiling, barely lighting the room, and a haze of smoke hung thick in the air. There were mattresses all over the floor and couples were lying all over them, making out. Some of the couples were doing more than that, so it was lucky the room was so dark. In one corner were Link Zolot and Amanda Brasier, sucking each other’s faces off. My sweet sister, Honey, was with Smacky, smoking a big roll-up next to a metal drum marked CIVIL DEFENSE. Over by a stack of tomato soup cans were Joe Dalanzo and Nuala Blake, who had her shirt off. Posie was sitting up, with Wailer’s head in her lap. I guess he never found that balloon after all. Anyway, all together there were about twenty people there, lying all over each other in the Hayes family bomb shelter.

  The only person who wasn’t with someone, besides me, was Luna herself. She was sitting all alone next to the stereo, playing Moby. She looked sad.

  “Hi, Jonah,” she said.

  “Hey, Luna. Nice party,” I said.

  She shrugged, not saying anything. She looked like she was about to cry.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  She looked around the shelter and then up at me. “Do you want to get out of here and talk?” she said. “I really want to talk to you.”

  I remembered the story Thorne had told me about Luna in the fire station. It sounded like Luna was pretty loose. I wondered if she only wanted to talk, but then I figured if she wanted to fool around, we wouldn’t be leaving the shelter. Luna stood up and I followed her out into that dark, narrow hallway.

  Suddenly she turns around and puts her arms around my neck and kisses me. Her hands are moving like spiders over me as she unbuttons first my shirt and then hers. She pulls my head down so I can kiss her neck. Her skin tastes like the alcohol in her perfume. Poison. She slides her hand into my jeans and the ground starts to rumble beneath us. There is a bright flash of light from outside. Too late, I realize a nuclear bomb has been dropped, and we aren’t even inside the shelter. We begin to run toward the heavy door to the shelter but we trip on our clothes and Sophie cries, “Jonah, stop. I don’t care anymore.” She hugs me close and I kiss her as hard as I can as the two of us turn into vapor. I don’t even mind becoming mist as long as I am with her. I can smell glycerin soap and lavender and smoke and as we disappear I tell her, “We don’t ever have to go back. We’ll stay like this forever.”

  I followed Luna back out to the basement and we sat down on a couch. There wasn’t any music on now. Luna poured me a glass of wine and handed it to me. “I’m so glad you found me,” she said.

  I took a sip of wine. “Are you okay? You looked upset.”

  Luna gathered her curly brown hair up in her hands, pulled it up on top of her head, and let it fall. She sighed tiredly. “Oh, I’m just being a stupid girl. You don’t want to hear about it.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “You can tell me.”

  She moved closer to me on the couch and put her head on my shoulder, just like Donna had done. And I was thinking, Okay, just please don’t throw up.

  “Well,” Luna said. “I guess my main problem is that I have this huge crush. It’s like all I think about.” She started fiddling with one of the buttons on my shirt. “I know it sounds crazy, but I spend all my time daydreaming. I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

  “I think I know what you mean, Luna,” I said.

  “Really? Is that true or are you just saying that?” she asked me.

  “It’s true,” I told her. “I think I daydream a lot, too.”

  Luna wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me. Her head was still on my shoulder. Actually, by this time it was kind of resting on my chest.

  “I knew you’d understand,” she said. “I knew you’d be the one person I could talk to.”

  I just sat there holding her, not sure where this was going.

  “So will you talk to him? Do you think you could find out for me if he still likes me? After we had sex it was like he didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I was just like, hello?” Luna said. She started to cry into my shirt. “I mean, I know Thorne has a reputation, but I really thought we were different. I’m so in love with him.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I knew Thorne was off somewhere fooling around with Dell Merriwether as the two of them discussed Russian novels.

  “I’ll try,” I said, just to be nice. I felt really bad for Luna.

  “Oh, thank you, Jonah,” Luna said.

  She shifted herself in my arms and tilted her face up to mine. Then all of a sudden she kissed me. Her lips tasted like tears and wine and it felt nice, but I didn’t want to be kissing Luna Hayes, especially not after what she’d said about being so in love with Thorne.

  I pulled my head away. Luna didn’t even seem to mind. She just went back to sitting with her head on my shoulder.

  “Have you ever felt like you’ve met the one person you’re destined to be with?” she sighed. “What am I saying? I know guys don’t think like this.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “Some guys think like that.”

  I wondered what Sophie was doing, right at that exact second. Was she at some party at Masthead, drinking wine? Was she alone?

  Then Thorne and Dell came in from outside, and there was absolutely no doubt that they had just had sex. They oozed through the basement with their hair all mussed up, happy smiles on their faces, carrying their empty glasses back to the table for more wine.

  “Hi, Luna,” Dell said as they passed us on their way to the bomb shelter.

  Thorne winked at me.

  Luna started crying again. “It’s no good living in your imagination,” she said. Then she stood up,
kissed me on the cheek, and walked resolutely toward the stairs.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I got up and walked back into the bomb shelter.

  Wailer and Posie were still in the corner together. It was depressing. I couldn’t even face trying to talk to her. All I could think was, I hope Pops and Lauren Hoogs and Cecily LaChoy are all wrong about Wailer. I hope I’m wrong, too.

  I sat down on the edge of a mattress and looked at a pile of CDs on the floor. Someone came and sat down next to me. It was my sister.

  “Hello, Newman,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said. “Some party, huh?”

  “Brotherman,” said Honey. “You need some serious help.”

  “You think?” I said.

  “I know,” Honey said. “Sitting in the corner? All by yourself?”

  “I don’t really mind,” I said. “I’m having a good time.”

  “But you could be having a truly great time,” Honey said.

  She looked over at Wailer and Posie. They were rocking from side to side, holding each other and kissing.

  “I think I know what you need,” Honey said quietly.

  “Honey,” I said, tiredly. “I don’t want you to hook me up with some random girl, okay? I really don’t.”

  “Okay,” Honey said. She laughed. “Poor little Jonah. No wonder you’re only in eleventh grade.”

  I didn’t even have the energy to get mad at her. I was thinking about what I could do to Wailer, like maybe put superglue on his surfboard so he’d get stuck and float off into the ocean and fall into a pool of stinging jellyfish. A pool of phosphorescent Portuguese man-of-wars, just suspended in the water like killer clouds.

  AMERICA ONLINE INSTANT MESSAGE

  9-24, 5:37 P.M.

  NORTHGIRL999: Hello Jonah is that you?

  JBLACK94710: Aine? How are you?

  NORTHGIRL999: I am fine. I am so sorry I had to log off before. You must have thought rude girl!

  JBLACK94710: I thought I must have pissed you off somehow.

  NORTHGIRL999: pissed off? What is pissed off?

  JBLACK94710: I thought I made you angry.

  NORTHGIRL999: no, no. I loved talking to you. You make so funny!

  JBLACK94710: what happened?