Rosie O'Dell

by Bill Rowe

  Brent didn’t think Rosie was trying to manipulate me or jerk me around: “She’s not like that. She’s a great girl.” But if I wanted more than just friendship and wasn’t getting anywhere, it was time to move on. He was planning himself to ask Kirsten, the head cheerleader, to the next dance or party that came along. Meanwhile, he was leaving hints in the hope that she would twerp him. Twerp Week, a venerable institution in grade eight at Smearies School, occurred around Valentine’s Day. During the week girls were encouraged to invite boys to events. I’d already accepted one invitation to a party—from the Miss Christmas Princess, no less—and was joshed about it at the newspaper editing board meeting after school. That night, Rosie called me up. She was “twerping” me, she said. Could she take me to that “Wallowing in chocolate and marshmallow” party that Brenda, the captain of her basketball team, was holding next weekend?

  I blurted, “But where’s Suzy?”

  Rosie laughed. “We’re undergoing a one-day trial separation. Was that a no?”

  “Jeez, Rosie, yes. You know it was a yes.”

  “I didn’t know but that yet another beauty queen had snapped up my old buddy.”

  “Well, you were just lucky this time.”

  “Speaking of Suzy, do you think Brent would go with her if she asked him?”

  “I don’t know, Rosie. Between the two of us, he’s got his eye on the head cheerleader, Kirsten. But I’ll find out from him if you want.”

  “Could you do it on the q.t. and let me know? I can tell you right now that Kirsten is not invited to this party. Brenda and most of the other girls on the basketball team are too pissed off with the cheerleaders for always going to the boys’ games and hardly ever coming to cheer at ours.”

  I called Brent with the intelligence about my invitation from Rosie and Kirsten’s banishment from the party. Did he want to go? No, he said, not the way they were treating Kirsten. I asked him if she had twerped him for anything yet. He replied she hadn’t, but he thought that was because she was a bit shy. I told him how I thought he should de-shy her—the same way I had with Rosie—accept an invitation to this party from another girl. “Let me guess,” said Brent. “Suzy.”

  “She’ll certainly ask you if she thought you’d say yes.”

  “I don’t know, Tom. I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.”

  “You won’t. I’ll make sure Rosie knows you don’t have any long-term interest so she can get that across. I want you to come and Rosie does, too. Look at the great times we had last summer.”

  THE NIGHT OF BRENDA’S party was cold and breezy with a light but constant fall of snow. Brent and I agreed to meet the girls there and everyone got drives from their homes. The first sign of trouble that night was when a friend of the hostess’s fifteen-year-old brother collapsed drunk and unnoticed in a snowdrift outside on the lawn before he could make it to the door. What saved him from death by hypothermia was that someone spotted him being humped in the beautifully swirling snow by the family German shepherd. Brenda’s brother managed to half-walk, half-drag him through the side door and down to a couch in the basement rec room without Brenda’s parents knowing anything about it. Her mom and dad were upstairs on the second floor trying to be inconspicuous so as not to spoil the youngsters’ party.

  While Brenda’s brother was down in the basement, two more of his fifteen-year-old friends showed up at the party drunk and strutted about the kitchen and living room among the awed thirteen-year-olds. One of them was evidently a celebrity. Brent pointed him out to me. He was a hotshot in competitive midget hockey and named Dake or Zack or something. “Oh God,” said Suzy when she spotted him. “What’s he doing here? I didn’t even know he was in St. John’s.” She knew him from central Newfoundland from a couple of years before. Brent said he was now in high school here, his family having moved to St. John’s last summer. He was tops in hockey.

  “Suzy Martin!” said Dake or Zack or whatever. “What a pleasant surprise. I was wondering what happened to you after they kicked you out of the school back home. My night is made. What do you want to do later, blow job or hand job? I’m easy.”

  Suzy turned her back on him and walked out of the room. Everyone, including me, looked at Brent. He walked over to the Dake or Zack guy and said, “What did you want to go and say that for? That wasn’t very nice. Apologize to Suzy.” Brent was about four inches shorter than him.

  “Who the shag are you, demanding apologies? Oh, it’s the Bantam star. What’s your name?” He snapped his fingers to fake trying to remember. “I saw you at practice the other day. Hey, keep at it. It’s coming.”

  “I said apologize to Suzy. She’s here with me.”

  I didn’t know what to do. Rosie moved towards Brent and I followed. “Let’s go, Brent,” she said. “Suzy is out by the door. We’re leaving. She doesn’t want you to be doing this.”

  “You’re here with Suzy Martin?” said Zack or Dake or whatnot. “You’re kind of young to get a dose of the clap, aren’t you?”

  Brent’s fist flew straight from his shoulder to the other’s solar plexus. The guy abruptly sat down on the floor. Gasping, he got to his feet quick and came at Brent. When he was in range he aimed a kick at Brent’s crotch. Brent stepped back and took hold of the toe and heel of his boot. Then he twisted the foot hard. I heard a crunch or a rip as the guy flopped over on his belly, followed by his shriek of pain. The other friend first crouched down by the injured guy and then got up to go at Brent. Rosie and Brent and I stood there waiting for him.

  By now Brenda’s brother, and her father, summoned from upstairs by her screeched “DAD!” were in the room and held back his other friend from behind. Then the father found out between groans of “I’ll fucking get you for this, Anstey,” the reason Zack or Dake or whatever couldn’t get up and walk, and said they’d have to get him to the hospital.

  Brenda’s father said to his son, “Your friends smell like a goddamned still.”

  His son’s third friend, the one they’d found being romanced by the dog in a snowdrift, emerged from the door to the basement now and staggered into the living room, mumbling, “What’s all the fucking fuss?” Spotting his friend on the floor moaning, he lurched to him in great concern, bent over to examine him, and vomited on him.

  Brenda’s father bawled at the top of his lungs, “This party is over. Everyone out. Everybody go home.” He received no argument from the invitees, most of whom were already shrinking from the room. Brenda, the hostess, ran up the stairs bawling her eyes out.

  Brent leaned into Brenda’s brother’s ear and muttered, “Tell your buddy that this time it’s only the rest of the hockey season. Next time, the prick will be out for life.”

  “No need to get like that, dude,” said Brenda’s brother. “He’s only an arsehole.”

  Brenda’s father said to Brent, “Anstey, don’t let me see you around here anymore, okay?”

  Brenda’s brother said, “It wasn’t his fault, Dad. Jamieson started it.”

  Brenda’s father said to Brent, “Your father is Anstey Motors, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yeah, well, he sold me a bloody lemon, okay?” He started to walk away but turned around. “I’m going to have to report Jamieson’s violent injury to the police.”

  The plan had been that our mothers would pick us up when the party ended in three or four hours. Meanwhile, they were busy at something else themselves. My own parents had gone to a movie. Rosie and Suzy and Brent and I decided to walk back to my house together because it was the closest. On the way Suzy tried to apologize for the trouble, but we wouldn’t have any of it. “Even his best friends think he’s an idiot,” said Brent.

  Rosie said, “Poor Brenda told me that a couple of her brother’s hunky high school friends were coming to the party. That was supposed to make it the party of the year, the envy of all the grade eights.” She turned to me. “How do you like our date so far?”

  “Oh, excellent. But the night is still young. I
hope nothing happens to spoil it.” We laughed, but then I realized it wasn’t very amusing for Brent. He’d probably be getting a visit at home from the cops tomorrow, charging him with assault. “Sorry, Brent, that’s not funny. Make sure you call us to give statements for the police.”

  “I hope your father doesn’t get mad at you when he finds out about all this,” said Suzy.

  “Who, Dad?” Brent snorted. “He’ll be delighted—twice. One, because I crippled a guy who pissed me off, and two, because he’s selling so many wrecks I actually ran into a guy by chance who bought one.”

  At my house, we had the place to ourselves. We got Coke and chips from the kitchen and settled down in the sitting room to watch a Here’s Lucy rerun. Brent and Suzy sat in two separate armchairs and Rosie and I sat on the sofa. She shifted over close to me and said, “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Not much has changed, I’m glad to see. We used to sit here together all the time, remember?”

  “Yeah. Nothing will ever change here. Mom and Dad are too busy all the time.”

  “I saw this show before,” she said. “Don’t mind me if I have a little nap. I had a busy week. But wake me up if anything good comes on.” She rested her head back and closed her eyes. Within a minute, she gave a little jump and started the slow audible breathing of sleep.

  The light was dim and the other two were side on to me, gazing at the TV. I was moved to reach into Rosie’s lap and take her hand in mine. As soon as I did so, it triggered something in her sleeping brain. She leaned towards me and lowered her head until her face was a few inches above my crotch, while at the same time placing her free hand on my pants and stroking my penis gently. Then she removed her other hand from mine and used both hands to begin to open the zipper of my fly. I was paralyzed with astonishment. I don’t know what I would have done if Rosie hadn’t suddenly straightened up and opened her eyes. “What?” she muttered. “Who…?” She looked down at her hands and abruptly pulled them away, turning wide-eyed to study my face. For a few seconds she said nothing and her face reddened with embarrassment. I could almost see her brain churning behind her eyes. Worry on her face, she looked over at Suzy who, like Brent, was still watching the screen.

  Rosie forced a giggle and whispered, “Gee, I’m sorry, Tom. I was sound asleep and dreaming that I had to do my pee. I thought I was in the bathroom trying to undo the zipper on my jeans as quick as I could. It was a good thing you woke me up or God knows what would have ended up on the sofa.”

  I covered my half-open fly with my crossed wrists. The erection that had instantaneously arisen was almost gone down now, lessening my embarrassment. “That’d be one way to get Mom to make a few changes around here,” I said, standing and turning my back to walk out. “You can use the bathroom in the hall, if you like. I’ll go upstairs.”

  I walked gingerly up the stairs and into the bathroom, locked the door, and sat on the toilet cover. Then I touched the outside of my pants and moved my fingers along my penis to discover what it had felt like to Rosie. I learned little except that my touch, echoing the feel of hers, gave me another instantaneous erection. I stood up and looked in the long mirror on the door. My dick poked the cloth out ludicrously and showed no indication whatever of going down. It felt like it was going to stay up forever. Long minutes of splashing cold water on my face and visualizing myself swimming a hundred laps in the pool finally achieved a slow uncertain collapse.

  When I came back down, Rosie was just hanging up the telephone in the kitchen. She’d managed to reach her mother at home, she said, but she’d already taken her sleeping pill and couldn’t come. I looked at my watch. Sleeping pill? It wasn’t even nine o’clock on a Friday night. She’d told Rosie to call a taxi, which Rosie did. One was coming in five minutes. Rosie related this without once catching my eye. Her face had an unnaturally high colour.

  “I told you that you need to get more sleep,” said Suzy to her, making sure, I thought, that she was speaking loud enough for me to hear. “That almost happened once before when you fell asleep, dead to the world, on the chesterfield at my place.”

  I went through the motions of asking her and Suzy to stay, but paradoxically, I was glad that the girl who was responsible for the best erection of my life to date was leaving, because I wanted to discuss urgently with my male confidant Brent the cause, quality, and care of hard-ons.

  As soon as the girls were safely aboard the taxi, I asked Brent, “Do you pull yourself off?”

  “Every couple of days,” said Brent. “Why? Don’t you?”

  “When’d you start that? I never knew you were hauling yourself all the time.”

  “Around Christmas. I had to. I was always going around horny. Interfering with my hockey. Why, what’s going on?”

  “Rosie touched my cock by accident. And I got this raging hard-on.”

  “What do you mean by accident? What did she do, bump up against you or something?”

  “No, with her hand. She kind of rubbed it with her fingers.”

  “She rubbed your cock by accident with her fingers?” Brent sat bolt upright. “How the fuck—? When?”

  “Tonight when she was asleep on the sofa next to me. She was dreaming. It was only for a second.”

  “Dreaming? Dreaming about what? Giving you a hand job?”

  “Jesus, no, Brent. It was outside my pants. She was dreaming she was in the bathroom taking a leak.”

  “Huh?” The perplexed look on Brent’s face made me hold back from telling him that she had also started to undo my zipper. This was suddenly too complicated to explain. Brent settled back down. “Yeah, it had to be by accident. The last thing I’d figure Rosie for is a cockteaser.”

  “Yeah, she was really embarrassed.”

  “Yeah, I thought there was something wrong with her when you were upstairs. She looked kind of funny and I heard her in the kitchen with Suzy, freaking out a bit. I thought they were arguing about staying or going.” Brent went silent for a moment. Then, “You lucky prick. No wonder you’re talking about jerking off. I’ve never had a girl touch my cock by accident or on purpose. I’ll be having a good pull tonight, just from talking about it.”

  Brent called his mother to pick him up soon after and I went immediately upstairs to the bathroom again and thought of Rosie, specifically her fingers. My good time was interrupted momentarily by the nerve-racking shout from my mother below: “Tom, are you home already?” I bawled out, “Yes, I’m using the bathroom,” and continued right on to my very first climax, outrageously unbelievable in its exquisitely thrilling delight. A tiny bubble appeared at the tip of my penis.

  HALF A DOZEN TELEPHONE calls to Rosie’s house and Suzy’s house on Saturday and Sunday found neither girl in. Monday morning in school, Rosie came right up to me and said, “I had practices all weekend, Tommy. Mom and Suzy’s mom said you called. Sorry I missed you.”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to find out what was going on with that Jamieson idiot. Brent told me he didn’t hear from the police and I was wondering if you found out anything from Brenda.”

  “Poor Brenda. She couldn’t look at any of us at the practice on Saturday. But she told me in the locker room afterwards that Jamieson told her brother he was dropping everything. I’m a bit sorry about that myself because I really wanted to tell the police what he said to Suzy and to Brent. It’s good for Brent, though. And the piece of shit has to use a crutch for a while, apparently, so that’s good too.”

  I hid my surprise at her abnormally aggressive language towards the lout and said, “Rosie, I also wanted to tell you I had a great time Friday night. I really want us to do something again soon. Maybe go to a movie or something.”

  “Tommy, I’m mortified about Friday night, and what happened. It makes me want to cool it when it comes to my socializing for a little while. We can get together here at school, though. And make sure you tell me when you have a swim meet, because I’d like to go if I can.”

  “I didn’t mind what happened Friday night, Rosie.
I really liked it, actually.”

  “You really liked it when Brent had to…?” She stopped and looked at me, remembering. “Oh.” She brought her head closer. “That accident from my dream. You’re so sweet.” She squeezed my forearm and walked away, throwing over her shoulder, “See you at editorial board.”

  It was like she was back to treating me like a child, even though I was now just as tall as her. But that’s the way it went for the rest of the school year, lots of chats and laughs around school, but nothing outside.

  In June, I caught up with Suzy walking along a corridor one afternoon by herself. I came brusquely to the point. “I really like Rosie, I mean really like her, but I can’t seem to get anywhere with her.”

  “I know you really like her,” said Suzy. “She really likes you too, Tom. She’s always telling me how much she always loved you.”

  “But it’s like she just keeps wanting to be friends. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Keep chipping away at it. One of these days you’ll break through.”

  “Break through what, Suzy?”

  Was that a sad look she gave me before she brightened up? She said, “I didn’t mean it like that, Tom. I just meant keep going. You guys were made for each other. Is Brent really going away to hockey school this summer?” Maybe that was the reason for her sad look.

  “Yeah. He’s really good. A scout for a university was down from the mainland to watch some of the high school graduates play and he happened to see Brent at a practice and told him he was playing three years ahead of his age.”

  “He’s fantastic. And it looks like Rosie is going away to tennis camp.”

  “What? I thought she was too late applying for that.”

  “No, she didn’t apply because she said she wanted to stay here with me this summer and play at Riverdale. But I talked her out of that because I’m going to spend most of the summer with my father and little brother in Gander. The big reconciliation. Ta da. Rosie was late applying, but her coach says he won’t have any trouble getting her in because she’s got such potential. Jesus, you and I are surrounded by superstar athletes. Well, I am. You’re one too, with your swimming.”