“Nope, still haven’t seen him. I’m going to kill him,” she says into the phone. I’m pretty sure she’s speaking to Mrs. Cruz and talking about Mr. Fuller. Those two have it bad for each other, even if they’re not ready to admit it. She slams the phone down and leans back into her chair.
“Not ready to be back?” I ask. “Me neither.”
“Tell me about it,” she says. “It’s been a long day.”
Poor thing looks tired. And she looks like she’s been crying. “Just think. Second semester will fly by and summer will be here before you know it,” I say, trying to cheer her up.
“True.”
“First semester always feels like it takes years to get through. But when we get back from winter break, it feels like it’s only a few weeks before graduation.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. There’s the Backwards Dance, spring break, state testing, then bam…we’re out.”
“Thank god,” I mutter as the bell rings, and Ms. G’s class waits silently for her to begin.
Getting settled into the routine of school, soccer practice, games, and homework doesn’t take long, although I could do without the Of Mice and Men double entry journals and never ending Cornell Notes in history.
“Are you guys almost done?” Keesh asks us.
“I have two more. Mrs. Cruz’s strategy totally helped. It’s much easier than going back through all the pages looking for quotes.” Steph flips through the sticky notes hanging out of her book.
“Or you can do what I did and write the quotes down as you read,” I snicker.
“Whatever, Meg,” Keesh scoffs.
“Who cares? As long as it gets done,” Steph tells us.
“So I was thinking,” Keesh says.
I shake my head. “Scary.”
She throws a pencil at me, and we all chuckle. “So,” she pauses, glancing at Steph and me, “since you both still have your hymen intact and you’re not shackled to your college boyfriends, well, not officially anyway, I think we should try another round of dating.” She looks at the two of us again, trying to read our expressions. “It’s just an idea. If you’re not really single and…”
“Stop,” I tell her. “I’m single. And I’m game.” My throat tightens thinking about going out with someone else after what I shared with Alex the other night. But she’s right. We’re not a couple, and I’m still trying to have a normal high school experience. If I don’t, then all the time I’ve spent apart from him will be for nothing.
“Me too,” Steph chimes in.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Keesh waves her hands in the air. “There’s something else.” Her mischievous smile makes me nervous. “I have an idea.”
“Like Meggie said, scary.” Steph shudders, drawing a laugh from us.
“Okay, smart asses. Just listen. I had a little chat with our boy toys. I asked Josh and Travis to set us up with one of their friends.”
“You did what?” I cry out, practically falling off my bed. “Are you nuts?”
“No, it was cool. Travis thought it was funny. They both agreed and we all have dates this Saturday.” She hunches over, like she’s shrinking down to hide.
I can’t help but laugh. Steph runs her hands through her hair, shaking her head.
“Well,” I flop back against my pillows, “this should be interesting.”
“This is funny,” Keesh says, as she takes a seat on the big massage chair to get a pedicure. “We haven’t been here together since we made the pact.”
“I haven’t been here at all since then,” Steph says. “Look at my toes.”
“No wonder you haven’t got lucky,” Keesh teases.
“So how did it go, Keesh?” I ask. “You planned this nonsense so you get to spill first.”
“Okay, I’ll go.”
Before she starts, we all get settled, our feet soaking in the hot water with tingly, minty bath salts. The fizzy water tickles my toes. As does the anticipation of hearing about the blind dates my girls went on. I can’t wait to tell my take. My date was a riot. Not funny like the guys, but weirdo funny.
Steph and I both turn to Keesh, who’s soaking in between us, and wait. She glances back and forth at both of us and then begins. “Okay, Travis is an idiot. What would make him think I’d go out with a guy who’s three inches shorter than me? I swear, he looked like a ninth grader, eighth grader even. I wouldn’t be surprised if he still has his baby teeth.”
I crack up, and so does Steph. “He couldn’t have been that bad,” I tell her, knowing damn well he could be. After the dates we’ve been on this year, nothing would surprise me. Forget double time, we need to be working quadruple time to land a decent date.
“Oh yes, he was,” she yelps. “Well, he was cute. Like baby cute. Like I wanted to pick him up,” she pinches her fingers at the air, “and put him in the palm of my hand to pet him, then put him in my pocket to play with later. He was adorable. I was just looking for a … a…” she searches for the right word. Finally, she grunts out “a man.”
“Well, Joshie hooked a sister up because I got a man all right. My dude was twenty years old and looked like he’d just jumped off the pages of a muscle magazine. I’ve never seen anyone like him outside a movie.” Steph fans herself, her cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink.
“Oooh,” Keesh squeals. “I told you this was a good idea. Tell us more.”
Leaning forward so I can see her, I listen carefully as Steph gives us the details about her date.
“He picked me up and took me to this old restaurant. Mexican food. It was delicious. He showed me how to eat oysters out of a shell with some Tabasco sauce and a squirt of lemon. He said it’s supposed to be unladylike for a woman to eat oysters but he didn’t care, said they were an aphrodisiac so why shouldn’t women eat them?”
“Woo,” I cheer her on. “He was trying to get you horny.” I swivel my hips in my chair and the lady, who’s now working on my toes, tightens her grip. Oops.
Steph nods. “I know. But they tasted good so I kept eating them. I think it’s a scam though. Didn’t make me want to jump in his lap or anything. Actually, seeing his explosive muscles tearing through his shirt was enough to make me want to straddle the guy.”
We all bust up laughing. When I come up for air, I ask for more details. All we know about the guy is his age and he looks like the Hulk.
Steph smiles. “He was about four inches taller than me,” she looks at Keesh and winks, “with dark spiky hair, hazel eyes. He wore a Cowboys tee,” she now looks at me with a smile, “loose fit jeans and some Adidas.” She leans forward in her chair to peek at her toes. “Can I get the deluxe?” she asks the manicurist. “I want the massage.”
Our ladies look up at Keesh and me. We both nod. Sure, we want the leg and foot massage as well, along with the moisturizing rubdown.
“His name is Sergio, he speaks Spanish, has a little bit of an accent. When we finished dinner, we walked around this little downtown area. There were lots of antique and hobby shops. It was cute. And he held my hand while we walked. That part was nice. I didn’t realize how much I missed something as simple as holding hands.”
“I know what you mean.” The emotions that surfaced just riding to Los Angeles and back with Alex’s fingers threaded through mine were unexpected and overwhelming.
The girls give me a sympathetic look. I don’t know why. They’re in the same boat I’m in. Single and frustrated.
Keesh looks back toward Steph. “So how did it end? Big goodnight kiss for a big man?” She must have made a face because Steph’s eyes widen.
“He walked me to the door, holding my hand, told me he’d like to see me again, and then leaned down … oh my gosh, he smelled so good, so clean and crisp and manly.”
Keesh smacks her hand down on her chair, causing our nail ladies to flinch. “Leaned down and what?” she demands.
“He leaned down … and,” she touches her fingertips to her cheek, “kissed me right here.”
“And?”
we both ask, rather loudly.
“And what? That was it. He kissed my cheek and left.”
“You’re lying,” Keesh pokes the air with her index finger. “A kiss on the cheek made your face go all red. I wouldn’t be surprised if you slid off the seat right now, you look all satisfied.”
“It was a good kiss, what can I say?” Steph shrugs.
“Good, my ass!” Keesh flops back against the head rest. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
“Your turn, Meggie,” Steph says, trying to avoid the accusation. Nice one.
“My guy was all right. He wasn’t some Latin stud. I guess we all know who the boys like the most out of us three. Keesh and I don’t even rate with them.” Keesh nods while Steph rolls her eyes. “My date was more of a band geek. Good looking but way too weird for me. He listens to music I’ve never heard of. Nothing you can dance to. Listening to his playlist would give me nightmares, for sure. But he was funny.”
“How so?” Steph mutters, leaning over to check out the flower masterpieces on her big toes.
“You know what he calls a girl’s hoo-haa?”
Steph raises a brow at me. “Not a hoo-haa, I hope.”
Keesh scrunches her nose. “Please tell me he didn’t use the C-word. It’s so dirty.”
“Okay, no. He didn’t call it a hoo-haa or the C-word. He called it a vagina. He seriously asked how far I’d gone with a dude and when I looked at him like he was crazy, he said he’d touched a vagina. I laughed so loud, he looked scared. It’s just not what I’d expected. He was so serious too.”
The girls are cracking up. “Well, what did you want him to call it?” Steph asks.
“I don’t know. But when you’re talking about going to town with a girl, clinical terminology just doesn’t come to mind.”
Keesh whips out her phone and starts tapping away at the screen. “I’m texting the guys. Let’s see what they call it.” She taps one last time, letting out a satisfied grunt.
My phone chimes. It’s Keesh’s message: Heey! Wht do yall call a girls…you know. Not a VAGINA, right?
I snort, unexpectedly, after reading her text. She sent it to all of us, probably so we’ll see the guys’ responses when they reply.
“Oh my gosh. They’re gonna love this one,” I tell my friends.
All at once, our phones start beeping away. It sounds like a chorus of bells, singing loudly throughout the salon.
First up, Josh: Box, Muff, Cat
Oh goodness. I text him back: Cat?
Yup, I luv 2 pet the kitties.
Oh shit. That was funny.
My phone chirps again, three times in a row.
Alex: vajayjay to be nice. Snatch: not so nice
Ben: Lady business
Travis: Poon, Furburger, bearded clam
I like lady business. Not bad. I usually just call it my girl parts or vajajay.
The girls are glued to their phones, as am I, when the final text comes in.
Jon: Pink Taco, Sausage Wallet, Meat Socket
Well, that was worth the wait. Leave it to Jon Jon to come up with some crazy, nasty shit. Travis had some good ones too.
“I can’t wait till Monday.” I slide down off my chair and slip my flip flops on.
“Why?” Keesh asks, still working her cell phone.
“Remember when we asked the guys for other names for penis? We couldn’t do or say anything without them referring to their main veins and flesh wands. We should count how many times Travis and Josh say something cooch related.”
“We’ll run out of fingers and toes by lunch time,” Keesh says, giggling.
Twenty Four
Three weeks into second semester and report cards finally reach my mailbox. Yes! Straight As, baby. This is quickly proving to be the easiest year yet. With only four academic classes, I shouldn’t feel so proud. Getting anything less than an A in ASB or as Ms. G’s teacher’s aide would be pathetic. But somehow I managed to get a top grade in my advanced placement history class, which I wasn’t expecting since the teacher hates Travis and me. The amount of work in that class is insane but doable. I’m glad I decided to only take one AP class. Steph is taking two and I know it’s draining her. Some of our classmates opted for three and no social life.
I guess I shouldn’t wonder why only one of the five princes on the Backwards’ King Court is a brainiac. The rest of the smart guys are too busy studying to pay attention to school dances and vying to be crowned the king of high school.
I’m on my way out of Ms. G’s class to meet the girls when Travis texts me.
SHHH! Meet me in Fullers class. Hurry up.
Just a few doors down, I speed walk to get there before he texts me back. He’s just as impatient as I am so I know he’ll text me every thirty seconds till I show.
Travis is parked in a chair and Mr. Fuller is sitting on his desk, his feet dangling, swinging back and forth. He looks nervous, anxious about something.
I look at Travis. “What did you do?”
“Me?” He puts his hand to his chest. “Why do you gotta assume I did something?”
“Because you probably did,” I scold him. “Mr. Fuller, what did he do? Whatever it is, I wasn’t involved.”
Mr. Fuller chuckles, shaking his head, as the door swings open. Steph and Keesh trot in, chatting away. They stop suddenly. Like a chorus, together they ask, “What did you guys do?”
“You guys?” I shout.
Travis cries out, “Us?”
The door flies open again. This time Joshie struts in, headphones in his ears, bopping to a beat. He gets a look at all of us, staring at him in silence. He yanks the earbuds down, and says, “I didn’t do it.”
He glances all around, and we crack up.
“You guys are one guilty group,” Mr. Fuller says, shaking his head again. “Take a seat, everybody.”
We all toss our bags down. Steph, Keesh, and I sit down at the desks in front of him. Josh sits on top of one with his feet propped up on a chair.
“Now that you’re all here,” he says, “we can start. I have a favor to ask of you and it has to remain a secret. I trust Trav completely, and he says I can trust you too. This will probably be the hardest on Meg,” he looks me in the eyes, “but I think you can do it.”
“Why me?” I ask.
“Because this is about Ms. Gelson.” His eyes light up, and my heart melts. When I grow up, I want my man’s eyes to light up for me. “I have a surprise planned for her and I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”
“I knew it,” Josh shouts. “You guys are hittin’ it.”
Mr. Fuller is about to say something, but Keesh beats him to it. She whips around and backhands him in his gut. “You’re a dumb ass.”
“Oh,” he shrinks down into the seat. “I’m sorry. I just meant you and Ms. G are a very nice young couple.”
There’s a muffle of snickers. We can’t help laughing at how ridiculously funny Josh is.
“Thanks,” Mr. Fuller says. “So, back to the surprise. Ms. G went to school here and she loves all the student activities and traditions. The Backwards’ rally, game, and dance are her favorite. So this is what I have planned …”
This year, the Backwards’ festivities are beyond hectic. With Mr. Simpson piling on the duties and all of us working on Mr. Fuller’s surprise, the crew has been going non-stop. From soccer practices to games to decorations for the rally and dance, I’m pooped. The girls and I didn’t finish our humongous poster until after midnight. It was nice of Andi to lend a hand because the guys were worthless. They spent more time painting each other than filling in the letters that would be Mr. Fuller’s declaration of love.
Ms. G and I have something in common. I love this time of year too. The guys running for king, and doing skits at the rally. The girls playing football, and the guys cheering. I always thought we’d be playing in the game our junior year but Mr. Fuller’s surprise is way more important than Powder Puff football and the boys dressing in drag and pu
nching pom poms in the air.
Earlier today, the rally went off without any problems. Like always, the skits were good. The dancing was amazing. Well, except for one dude who couldn’t dance at all. It doesn’t matter how well the rest of his group danced, he was cut short of any talent in the boogying department. He looked more like a shivering fool than a studly dancer. But who cares, I’m more interested in tonight’s game of girly flag football where the juniors take on the seniors, and, of course, Mr. Fuller’s big reveal.
I don’t think Ms. G has a clue. She’s giddy as all hell since she made up with Mr. Fuller and got over that slime ball, Mr. Marino. She’s walking around with her head high in the clouds, just happy to be newly in love.
We’re about an hour away from show time. We just need to make it through the first half of the game and get Ms. G where we need her. Steph came up with the idea to position her on the field. I hope it works.
“Pink Tacos, all systems go?” I hear Travis’s voice coming through my headset. Is he kidding me?
“Roger that, dickhead,” I actually spit out a gulp full of Diet Coke when I hear Keesh’s response.
“Stop messing around,” I tell them. “We’re three minutes till halftime. Andi, you’re up.” I check my watch. Right on time. Mr. Fuller ran off the field five minutes ago. I don’t know what he told Ms. G, but right about now he should be neck deep in a tiger costume. Shit, I just spotted Mama and Papa Gelson. “Keesh, back up the Gelsons. I can see them.” That was a close one. Thank god for Ms. G’s interest in the game or this may not be possible.
The clock runs out and the ASB class works to transform the field into the site of a major event. I watch as Ms. G, Mrs. Cruz, and Ms. McGallian make their way onto the field. Cool, it worked. We gave them some crap story about the princes fighting during the show and how we needed adult supervision standing with them so they wouldn’t ruin it. Suckers. They fell for it.
“Are you ready?” I ask Mr. Fuller, who is completely disguised in our school mascot costume.
“Absolutely,” he shouts. I can hear the giddiness in his tone. “Do you need anything?”
Double Time (Double Threat series) Page 15