Brandon should stay at home and wait for another party. He won’t improve his social standing this way, but he won’t really hurt it either.
I could have ridden my bike and joined the fun, but it was risky. Also, I didn’t really feel like riding all that way. I stayed home and saw the guys at school on Monday.
According to Eric, the party was good and some real shit went down. The girl I had a major crush on two years ago, Jackie Spears, came back to town and was at the party. Damn, I wish I would have been there! Sure, I would have been too shy to actually speak to her, but could have at least enjoyed the view. Of course, she could have learned that I rode my bike like freshmen and that would have been endlessly humiliating.
Eric also said that Carl Overfelt – the biggest and meanest guy I’ve ever seen – got so drunk that he fell down and busted his face up.
His girlfriend, Nicole, was in my history class. As I entered the room on Monday, she was already seated at her desk across the room, staring blankly forward.
Mr. Henderson started class and babbled on about the Revolutionary War and possibly a few other things. Even if I had been in the mood to pay attention, which didn’t happen all that often, I wouldn’t have been able to. I was really starting to kick myself for missing Carolyn’s party.
Out of boredom, I look around the room. The look on Nicole’s face was not a happy one. That was for certain. However, I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. It seemed to be serious, possibly a little sad … or mad. I couldn’t tell. In any event, it wasn’t good.
At lunch I walked into the main courtyard Eric, Quinn, and Darren were standing near our usual lunchtime hangout –a bench that surrounded one of the four trees that stood in each corner of the yard. Quinn appeared to be teasing Darren about something. In response, Darren smiled and looked sideways at the jokester through the John Lennon-style glasses that sat at the top of the bump on his nose.
“Hey guys,” I said, approaching them.
“Hey Wheat, I’m surprised you’re not in the library, studying,” Eric said with a smile.
“Yeah, go ahead and give me a bad time about missing the party, but I did something amazing this weekend that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”
“Well tell us, man!” Eric demanded. “Aren’t we your best friends?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Just keep it to yourselves.” As they agree, I notice Moss, one of the other guys we hung out with, had his back to me.
Moss Castillo was hard to figure out. In addition to his strange first name, no one ever quite knew when he was joking and when he was serious. He was definitely a good dude, but really easy to get worked up by talking about his mom. None of the guys had ever even met his mom, as far as I knew, but that didn’t matter. It was the one thing that seemed to put a burr up his ass and was just too fun to leave alone.
It also helped that he was one of the smaller guys, and although he talked a good game, no one really worried about fighting with him.
He was sitting on the bench talking with a couple of other guys, but now all three had their mouths shut and leaned closer to hear what I was about to say.
“I have a new neighbor. She’s a year younger than me, but really hot. Since I had no way to get the party – thanks to you dicks – I was sitting on the bricks in front of my house pouting. Well, I guess she wants to make friends really badly. She came up and started talking to me and asked me questions about her new house.
“I had never been inside there, because some old people used to live there. But I acted kinda like I knew about it. Anyway, her parents were not home, so she asked me in to look at something with her thermostat. Of course I don’t know anything about that, but looked at it and hit some buttons and told her I thought it was broken.
“She seemed to believe me and thought I was smart. We started kissing and really got into it. And then, right in the middle of that I realized that I did know this girl! It was Moss’s mom.”
“Hey Fuck You Man!!” Moss roared and charged me. We all started laughing as I hid behind Quinn. Moss punched me in the arm a few time, but didn’t swing for the face or anything. He had to do something though to defend his mom’s honor.
“Ouch. That’s what you get for eavesdropping, Moss,” I said.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” he replied, calmer now that he caused me a little pain. “You just talk loud.”
We continued to joke around until a few minutes before the end of lunch. Moss was looking past me and his eyes grew wide.
“Don’t look now, but Carl is here, and he looks pissed!” he whispered and moved away.
Everyone looked towards Carl.
“Damn!” said Quinn, “He looks like hell.”
Lots of people had explained in great detail what a red, bloody mess his face was as he came down the stairs that night, but that wasn’t the same as seeing with my own eyes. Carl was standing in the middle of the school smoking section, arms at his sides with a burning cigarette between his fingers.
The smoking section was a joke. It consisted of yellow lines painted on the ground in one corner of the courtyard that formed a box of maybe 15’ x 15’ and contained a single bench and a small planter holding a shrub. It was the one place in the school where kids were allowed to smoke. Each day the little area was packed with kids of all ages, sitting if they were lucky, or standing almost shoulder to shoulder, puffing away.
Seeing Carl in person was amazing. Both of his eyes were black and much of his face was covered by the white tape that held his nose in place. In spite of how far away he was, even his lips appeared cut and swollen, somehow making his large round head look even bigger.
Moss was right. Carl was very angry. Even from this distance it was incredibly clear. I had always been fearful of him and was thanking my lucky stars that he didn’t seem to know who I was or acknowledge that I existed. I felt safe in that anonymity.
His girlfriend, Nicole, was standing next to and a step back from him. She looked scared, as usual. For the remainder of the lunch period we all took turns looking past each other in our conversations, so we could stare at the spectacle.
Not much happened for the rest of the week except another party was announced. It was a little uncommon for parties to occur so close together. Sometimes there were dry spells that could last several months. This one had potential to be fun or out of control, because it wasn’t going to be in a house, where the host had to make sure nothing was destroyed. No, this would be at the beach.
You can’t just go and have a wild time at one of the easy access beaches. Those are popular during the day and are more likely to be patrolled by law enforcement at night. The more obscure – and therefore less patrolled – beaches were north of Santa Cruz. However, there were so many little sandy coves surrounded by cliffs along that stretch, people often ended up in the wrong place and had no idea where to find their friends.
Should Brandon attend the beach party? There would no doubt be underage drinking, a bon fire, crashing waves just yards away and the fact that it was illegal. He could wind up in serious trouble, or he might have a good time mingling with his peers. Still somewhat shy and awkward – especially around girls – another social gathering might just help him spread his wings a little more.
If Brandon goes to the beach party, go to Chapter 5.
If not, go to Chapter 19.
This party was planned south of Santa Cruz by Pete Tarragon, a senior who saved his money and bought a beat up Porsche Boxster just so he could say that he owned a sports car. He somehow knew all the obscure locations along the coast and picked a good one for the evening’s festivities, one that the cops would miss but kids could find.
Eric parked at the end of a line of cars belonging to Perrimon High students. Following directions that had been texted and re-texted over the last few days, we looked for Pete’s Porsche. The rusty red Boxster marked the trailhead to the beach. Without it, the path would have been hard to find among the trees, bushes, and tall grass. The trail was steep and a little muddy from rain a day earlier, making it extremely slippery. Pete and his buddies must have had a heck of a time getting the keg down to the sand.
Most of the uneven trail ran alongside a canyon that was twenty feet or so deep. If the ground was completely dry, it wasn’t much of a problem for sober people to navigate. However, fog and light rain often peppered the coast and therefore, the trail rarely dried out. Tonight was clear and relatively warm, but again, the trail was slick.
My feet started to slip out from under me more than once, but I managed to keep my balance. When we were about half way to the beach, Eric’s feet slid out from under him. He landed hard on his butt, sliding most of the way over small bushes into the canyon. The firewood that sat in his arms moments before was gone.
Quinn and I found this to be extremely funny once we realized he was ok. We insisted he rolled through poison oak although it was too dark to tell.
“Bite my wang,” he said, picking up the one log that hadn’t been lost and continued down the trial.
A quarter mile later the trees and mud gave way to sand.
A fire blazed a couple hundred yards away and familiar faces stood out in the orange light. As we approached I carefully scanned the partygoers as best I could. Some were easy because the firelight shone on their faces. Others were more difficult since they were between me and the fire. The oversized frame of Carl Overfelt was nowhere around. He usually attended the bonfires although word had spread that he would not make it this time. Maybe his last ‘party’ experience sucked so badly he decided to stay home.
We dropped our wood in with the rest of the fuel about 20 feet from the blaze.
“Is that all you guys brought?” Pete asked, sounding disappointed.
“Eric lost his on the trail,” Quinn said to snickers and nods of understanding from others nearby.
Eric smirked, but said nothing.
Looking around, I found the stack of red plastic cups set up on a towel. My eyes adjusted and the silver circle next to the towel took shape. I picked up the end of the tube attached to the center of the circle and poured myself a beer. As usual, the keg had been buried with only the top inch showing, and even that portion was lower than the surrounding sand.
Taking a sip, I found that the beer tasted like it always does. Bland and slightly gross. I talked and mingled around the large fire for nearly a half hour. Then a jolt of electricity flashed through me when my eyes locked onto those of Jackie Spears’!
What a lucky break. When I heard she was at Carolyn’s party the week before, I figured she might just be visiting for a few days to see old friends. And yet here she was, still in California. Had she moved back permanently?
I had Biology with her our freshmen year. She was the most beautiful girl in our entire 9th grade class as far as I was concerned. She was completely out of my league and had an older jock boyfriend who rode a motorcycle. Even more remarkable was that she was nice. I said “hi” to her when I could and she never once snubbed me or left me hanging in silence. After building up the courage for a week I asked her to sign my yearbook. She wrote that I was “sweet” and she liked being in Bio with me.
OK, so all she did was say “hi” and sign my yearbook, but it made me very happy.
“Aw, not this shit again.” Quinn’s voice so close to my ear startled me.
“Don’t sneak up on me, man,” I said, slightly annoyed.
He ignored my comment. “You’re not in 9th grade any more. You can’t just stare at her from across the room. You’ll look like a stalker.”
“I won’t stare.”
“All right,” Quinn said, “but don’t do anything embarrassing.”
“Would I do something like that?” As soon as the question left my mouth I knew what was coming.
“Yeah douchebag. Remember Jerry Booker’s party?”
I winced from the blow of the memory. I drank way too many beers and made myself look like a douchebag at Booker’s party back in December. That night dropped me multiple levels in the eyes of my peers and I was still occasionally feeling the fallout.
“Fuck you,” the annoyance now squeaked in my voice. “I’m not even drunk.”
“Hey, you asked the question,” he said and walked away.
I turned back towards Jackie.
She was sitting on the other side of the blaze, watching me. A huge smile spread across my face before I remembered it would be smarter to play it cool with a smaller, barely interested smile; one that said “Oh yeah, I think I remember you.” But it was too late for that.
Her response to my overly toothy grin was a sweet, lightly amused smile. Billy Owens was next to Jackie, talking to her and appeared to be in the middle of some animated story. He talked and gestured and didn’t notice that her attention had strayed.
Could she actually remember me? It seemed unlikely, but there was recognition in her eyes and her smile. My heart lifted. I held her gaze for another moment. Then a slightly embarrassed and awkward feeling landed on top of my immense happiness.
Should Brandon approach Jackie now? She is popular and may always have some guy in her face, so why wait for an opening that will never come. Go to Chapter 13.
Should he try and wait until Jackie is not talking to Billy or some other guy. Go to Chapter 6.
Should he forget about approaching her? She’s busy and is out of his league anyway, but maybe things will work out and she’ll say “hi” to him. Go to Chapter 10.
I made my way back away from the circle of firelight.
It took me 10 minutes to build up my courage and return to my position near the fire. Jackie was still talking to Billy. I stared into the fire and sipped on a fresh cup of not very good beer.
“Ugh!” A whack on my upper back made some of the beer slosh out on the sand and my shoes. I turned to see Darren standing next to me.
“Whasssup!?” he said, swaying slightly front to back.
“Oh, hi Darren. I was just thinking,” I said.
“About Jackie Spears?!” he said in his drinking voice, which was several octaves louder than his normal voice.
“No!” I lied. “And talk quieter. I’m right next to you.”
“Oh schorry man,” he slurred. “I’ll be cool.”
“Thank you.”
“So whatcha thinkin’ bout if it ain’t sexy sexy sexy Jackie?” he said in a softer, but still way to loud voice. “That’s who I’m trying to maybe think about.”
Turning my head slightly I noticed that both Jackie and Billy were watching us. They probably couldn’t understand everything we said over the crackle of the fire, but they had definitely caught enough to know who we were talking about. I was already feeling self-conscious. I was sure my infatuation with her showed on my face and it was just a matter of time before everyone else noticed, like a mouse turd on white rice, it couldn’t be missed. Darren’s giant mouth only served to shine a light on my feelings. I had to nip this in the bud or he was going to embarrass both of us.
I said wryly, “I’m trying to figure out if I should knock you out with a right cross or hand you beers until you pass out.”
Without hesitation Darren replied, “You should hand me beers, cuz you hit like a girl,” and then laughed like he had said the funniest thing since Kevin Hart’s last stand-up routine.
I sighed. Darren was smart and funny in his own way, but never got loud because he equated it with the redneck lifestyle he so loathed. Well, not until he was drunk, but that rarely happened. He seemed to be acting a little weird all week, and the fact that he was already drunk continued his odd behavior.
“OK, let’s go get a beer,” I said. Mine was still practically full and my real intention was to get him a little further away from Jackie’s ears. He knew I had dreamed about her since 9th grade and I was scared to death his boozy brain would stumble on this fact and immediately kick it out of his mouth at full volume.
I topped my beer off and handed the tap to Darren. “Hey man,” I said. “You usually don’t drink so much. What’s up?”
“I’ll tell you wats not up? You the first time you are naked with a girl.”
To this Darren roared with laughter. The fact that he was laughing so hard actually made his almost-joke a little funny. The people around us turned their attention to the comical drunk. After almost a minute, he calmed down enough to add, “and then I will come in and show her what a real man is with my super-hard side of beef.”
“Yeah, too bad you have to think of Brad Pitt to get it that way,” I said.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” He replied in mock anger as the others around us laughed. He raised his hand to simulate a punch, stepped on a log and fell backwards, emptying his entire beer on his chest.
While he yelled and tried to right himself I took the opportunity to slink away. Moving out of the circle of light cast by the fire, I walked around to the opposite side of the flames. Naturally I scanned the crowd. I found Jackie in the same place she was before. She was standing up and brushing sand off her jeans and miraculously was by herself.
I couldn’t believe Billy left her side. The guy clung to Jackie like a starfish holding onto a big rock. Quickly looking about I spotted him trudging off towards the tree covered hillside. ‘Full bladder,’ I thought. She was by herself and no one else had noticed yet. If I was going to talk to her tonight, it had to be now.
My feet shuffled forward while the logical part of my mind shouted that this was a bad idea. ‘You have no idea what to say to her,’ it said. ‘The smart thing to do would be to take a few minutes and plan it out. Think of something witty. Don’t just walk up to her. You’ll say something dumb!’
My feet nearly stopped because the brain was right, but at the same time it was also full of crap. Listening to it for most of my life had kept me relatively safe from hurt and humiliation, but it never led to anything particularly good. She was still focused on her clothes. I continued, one foot in front of the other. And then, when I was close enough to speak to her, I chickened out.
Altering my course slightly I made it look as though I was simply walking by on the way to somewhere else, like Shamesville. Disgust welled up inside me. The girl of my dreams was a few feet away and I couldn’t even say hello.
And then a miracle happened. She knocked the last of the sand off her pants, looked up and saw me pass by. “Brandon,” she called out.
I spun back, delighted and shocked. “Oh, uh, Jackie! Um.. hi!”
She smiled at my nervousness. “Hi Brandon. I was starting to think that you didn’t remember me.”
“Haha. Of course I remember you!” Gawd I sounded pathetic. Trying to recover I asked the first thing that popped into my brain. “Are you coming back to Perrimon High?”
“No. I’m just staying with my aunt for a little while.”
I could easily sense that our conversation was pretty boring and I struggled to come up with better words. And then Billy returned, which might have been a blessing and saved me from whatever I found in the clever/funny department of my mind.
‘How quickly does this guy pee?’ I wondered. It seemed like he had been gone less than a minute.
“Hey thar, Brandon,” he said. There was no malice in his voice, but no joy either. He obviously wished I was talking to anyone but Jackie.
“Hey Billy,” I replied, trying to keep a little happiness in my demeanor as I spoke. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” he said and turned his attention to Jackie. “So like I was saying before, their big guy was crowdin the plate. I can’t let him do that and den look at ma-self in the mirror the next morning…”
He continued into one of his baseball stories. Jackie politely paid attention and because I had been part of the conversation a moment earlier, did not walk away. Each addition second made it clear that Billy either saw me as a third wheel or as a total non-entity.
I teetered on the verge of saying goodbye and walking away or trying my luck at staying put and possibly figuring out a way back into the dialog. Before I could decide, one of the brainer guys in school, Tony Choi, announced something that was quickly picked up and repeated by everyone else.
“The trucks!”
I looked down the beach. Sure enough, four dots of light in the far distance were slowly making their way in our direction.
Pete immediately started shouting directions. “You know the drill, people! Grab your stuff and get out of sight. And we need help carrying the wood!”
Everyone went into action. Blankets and other belongings were snatched up and carried away.
I looked back to Jackie. Billy spoke first. “I guess we betta hide. Come on Jackie.”
I was pretty sure they were not dating and I also felt comfortable in my thinking that they had never even kissed. It was also pretty clear that he saw me as no competition for her affection. The girl of my dreams was about to hide in the bushes with another guy.
What should Brandon do?
Billy was bigger, stronger, better looking and more athletic than Brandon. Best to back off. Go to Chapter 25.
Or make a play to keep Jackie near Brandon? Go to Chapter 17.
We headed south, close enough to the water to walk on wet sand, but not so close that a wave could catch us. Our conversation traveled easily about the things we remembered from 9th grade to what each of us had been up to since then. I had never felt so comfortable talking to a girl that I was attracted to, and it took me a little by surprise. A long tree trunk brought onto the sand by a winter storm provided a good place to sit. In the distance Pete’s bonfire raged and periodically we could hear laughter or a piece of a lively conversation over the waves.
“So,” Jackie said, “there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”
The truth was that I just wanted to talk to her without Billy Owens nearby. He monopolized her time and life was better with him somewhere else. “Oh, right. Yeah, uh, I wanted to thank you for saving my life last weekend.”
She laughed. “Brandon, all I did was wipe off your lipstick.”
“Right. Which allowed me to continue breathing.”
“From what I heard, Carl was in no condition to fight anyone. And anyway, you need to pick a color that accents your clothes.”
“Very funny. Hmmm… what color goes with shorts and a tee-shirt?”
The conversation stayed light and fun and she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get back to the party. And then she sighed.
“What’s up?” I asked, alarmed that I might have done something to annoy her.
“The sheriffs are coming.”
I looked past the fire towards Santa Cruz. At first I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then a point of light shifted. “Are those the trucks?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I had been to this stretch of beach before. Not always, but quite often, law enforcement would drive along the sand from one end of their jurisdiction to the other. They likely claimed they were ‘keeping the peace.’ My guts told me they just didn’t want kids to have fun, which meant no big bonfire parties. They were still far off and I calculated we had at least 20 minutes before we had hide or deal with them.
“You have great eyesight.”
“Thanks.” She sighed again. “Look Brandon. I’m having a good time, but I don’t want to have anything to do with the police. I’m going to go.”
“Uh, ok. Can I walk you to your car?”
“Sure, but you might miss out on some excitement down here.”
Yeah, I’d rather walk you to your car.”
She smiled. By the time we found the trailhead to exit the beach, the dots of light emanating from the sheriffs’ headlights were clearer. Now two pinpoints marked each vehicle. We walked up the slippery trail. I led although it became clear she was more surefooted than me. Twice I had to catch myself to stop from hitting the ground. Jackie was in flip flops and never faltered.
At last the trail ended at the street. We stopped in our tracks because our way was blocked by Carl Overfelt and his petrified girlfriend, Nicole. His face was swollen and red and he still had tape on his broken nose. After last week’s interaction with Nicole, I was scared to death as well. If he knew what happened, I would die a brutal death right here and now. Carl looked incredibly angry, but he was glaring at Jackie for some reason, not me.
“What are you staring at, bitch!” he half shouted.
I didn’t know what to do, but it seemed that I should say something. “We-”
Before I could finish – or even start – my sentence, Carl’s arm shot out and struck me open palmed in the chest. Air exited my mouth as I sailed onto my back in some soft bushes. Nicole put her hand over her mouth and Jackie returned fire with a string of swearwords that would do a teamster proud. Carl grunted and walked down the trail towards the beach, Nicole close behind.
“What the hell is the matter with that guy?” I said, regaining my feet. Jackie looked at me and the bushes around me. “He is always in a bad mood.” And in a quieter voice I said, “I supposed his ugly, beat up face isn’t helping. Can you imagine what would have happened if…” I couldn’t even whisper the words ‘if he knew I kissed his girlfriend.’ Just thinking about it gave me a shudder that tried to hide.
Then something occurred to me. “Why was he angry with you?” I asked.
Jackie shrugged. “No idea. He’s just so angry. Who can tell?”
We walked the rest of the way to her car, chatting about Carl’s face and personality deficiencies. When we arrived, I stepped closer for a hug. She knew what was coming and stopped me.
“Brandon, I’m pretty sure those bushes Carl pushed you into are poison oak.”
As much as that sucked, if she didn’t want a hug, I was happy that was the reason. It was much better than finding out I had bad breath or she plain didn’t want to be that close to me.
“Come here,” she said and positioned me in the street next to the curb. She then stood on the curb and gave me a peck on the lips. I broke out in a huge smile which made her smile back. “I think your lips are free from poison oak,” she giggled. “Goodbye Brandon. I’m glad I got to see you again. I’ll be heading back to Colorado soon, but when I come back maybe we can do something.”
With that she got in her car and drove off faster than was safe. I looked after her, all the while wearing that overly big grin.
End.
I shoved my bike deep into the bushes for safe keeping.
It wasn’t the best place to hide anything, but I knew Carolyn’s house was close enough to walk to and there was a good chance my bike wouldn’t be seen or stolen while I was at the party. Besides, riding up to the front door would announce to my peers that I didn’t have a car, and even worse, I was too pathetic to find a lift from anyone. I would rather risk losing my bike than allow that kind of damage to my meager social standing.
I stepped from rock to rock across the creek and walked the remaining two blocks. Even though I had never been to Carolyn’s before, the party was easy to find. There was plenty of noise coming from inside and I didn’t bother to knock. I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and walked in as if I owned the place. This was a bit of a gamble. If Carolyn was in the front room, she might just yell at me for barging in and then kick me back out. I hoped instead of her, some other girl or two might witness my caviler entrance and secretly be a little impressed. I’m not exactly a hit with the ladies and need any edge I can get.
Stepping inside, I was disappointed that no girls were in eye-shot – only a few guys – but relieved not to see Carolyn staring back at me.
“Hey Moss, how’s your mom?” I said to the first guy I passed.
“Fuck you punk!” Moss almost spat at me. “You better not be talkin’ shit about my mom.”
Moss Castillo was hard to figure out. In addition to his strange first name, no one ever quite knew when he was joking and when he was serious. He was definitely a good dude, but really easy to get worked up by talking about his mom. None of the guys had ever even met his mom, as far as I knew, but that didn’t matter. It was the one thing that seemed to put a burr up his ass and was just too fun to leave alone.
It also helped that he was one of the smaller guys, and although he talked a good game, no one really worried about fighting with him.
“I’m not talking bad about her, Moss. She’s a nice lady. A real nice lady.”
The emphasis on ‘real’ gets him even madder.
“Don’t piss me off, Wheat! I’ll put a foot in your ass!”
“Be cool man,” I said with a smile, and walked past him into the kitchen.
I found the guys leaning up against the kitchen counter, discussing what beer was best to serve at a party. They seemed to have agreed on some gross dark beer I’d never heard of.
At 6’3” and over 240 pounds, Quinn was by far my largest friend. He has a tough time remembering when to use his indoor voice, especially when he drinks. Eric has short brown spiky hair and claims his Italian heritage allows him to out-drink anyone in the school. He does seem to maintain the appearance of sobriety many drinks after everyone else has gone loopy.
Both really enjoy their beer and are somewhat overweight.
Quinn spotted me and his deep voice cut through all other conversations in the room. “Look who’s here!”
“Hey, you made it,” Eric said with a shit-eating grin.
“Yeah. No thanks to you,” I replied.
“Come on. You know I would pick you up if I wasn’t drinking.”
There was no slur to his speech, but his heavy eyelids made the case that he probably wasn’t lying and had been fairly liquored up from the get-go.
“OK,” I said, letting him off the hook. “The last thing I need is your drunk ass driving across town to get me. You would probably get lost anyway.”
“Exactly.” He replied, now totally satisfied that I wasn’t upset.
We moved to the garage so I could get the requisite beer in my hand. As mentioned earlier, I’m not exactly one of the cool kids. To show up at a party and not drink at least one beer could easily knock me down another peg. Grabbing a red plastic cup off the stack sitting on the washing machine, I made my way over to the keg. When I finally got to the front of the pack of people around it and saw the color of the liquid pouring out of the tap, I could tell it was of the cheap ‘light beer’ variety. I didn’t ask what kind it was, because I didn’t care. Beer still tastes like beer, which is to say, it tastes bad.
Really though, I didn’t dislike it as much as last year, but it was still just something I drank to 1) fit in better, and 2) because it did loosen me up a little in social situations. Of course, if I drank too many I might make an ass of myself again like I had at Jerry Booker’s party back in December. That night dropped me multiple levels in the eyes of my peers and I was still occasionally feeling the fallout.
Once my cup was full I walked back to the guys and took a sip. It was actually a little better than expected, but definitely one of the more watered down brands. Fine by me.
“So,” I began, “who’s here?” They knew that I actually meant, ‘which girls are here?’
Not like any of us had any game though. We didn’t possess the skill or nerve to actually walk up to a cute girl and have something smart or witty exit our mouths. No, we would spend the evening simply yucking it up with the other guys.
Suddenly Eric’s face got serious, as if he were about to reveal something of great importance. “Well, the hot singles appear to be Jodi Lenninger, Donna Moyer and Jackie Spears.”
“Jackie Spears?” I asked earnestly. I had Biology with her our freshmen year. She was the most beautiful girl in our entire 9th grade class as far as I was concerned. She was completely out of my league and had an older jock boyfriend who rode a motorcycle. Even more remarkable was that she was nice. I said “hi” to her when I could and she never once snubbed me or left me hanging in silence. After building up the courage for a week I asked her to sign my yearbook. She wrote that I was “sweet” and she liked being in Bio with me.
OK, so all she did was say “hi” and sign my yearbook, but it made me very happy.
And now she was back. “Where is she? I want to see her.” I said with a smile.
“Aw, not this shit again,” Quinn started. “You’re not in 9th grade any more. You can’t just stare at her from across the room. You’ll look like a stalker.”
“I won’t stare. I just want to see what she looks like.”
Quinn and Eric shared a look, then Eric shrugged.
“All right,” Quinn said, “but don’t do anything embarrassing.”
“Would I do something like that?” As soon as the question left my mouth I knew what was coming.
“Yeah douchebag. Remember Jerry Booker’s party?”
“Fuck you,” annoyance squeaked in my voice. “I’m not even drunk.”
“Hey, you asked the question.”
He had me there. Instead of replying, I motioned for them to lead the way. We headed back through the kitchen, and came to the dining room which was partially sectioned off with long strips of masking tape going from wall to wall and ceiling to floor like a crime scene. A piece of binder paper attached to the middle of the make-shift wall read ‘Don’t even think about going in here’. It was clearly Carolyn’s writing.
The cherry dining table, chairs and a few other pieces of nice furniture had been crowded behind the tape. Evidently these were items that would get her in serious trouble if they were damaged. Usually people respected such boundaries, knowing that future parties at other kids’ houses were less likely to occur if stuff got destroyed. Once in a while, however, things did get wildly out of hand.
At a party two years earlier (before I ever attended one), the girl throwing it had been foolish enough to leave her house and drive off with her boyfriend right in the middle of the festivities. With no one there to watch over things, a mob mentality developed among some of the rowdier guys. When she returned, potted plants had been thrown into the hot tub and posts from the staircase railing had been pulled out and jammed up through the ceiling.
Eric and Quinn led me past the dining room and out through the sliding glass door into the large backyard screen room.
Jackie Spears was there all right and looked somehow, impossibly, more beautiful than ever. She was a little taller than when I had last seen her and her previously straight hair had some wave to it. Jackie was a little smaller than most of the girls, but simply radiated beauty. I managed not to stare, instead finding and striking up a conversation with a few other guys we knew well.
“Ron and Clancy!” I said. “What’s going on guys?”
“Well if it isn’t Brandon Wheatley,” said Ron. “It’s about time you showed up.”
Ron was a tall as Quinn, but pencil thin. He was the quiet one of the bunch.
“Yeah, well Darren got grounded and these bastards drank 10 shots each,” I exaggerated, “just so they didn’t have to come and get me.”
“Haa!!” Quinn yelled, catching on to my sarcasm. “That’s right! I’d rather drink piss through a fire hose than give you a ride! Ah! Ha Ha! Haaa!”
His joke didn’t make sense or follow the theme of my comment, but he was nearly drunk and this was the best he was going to do.
Ron turned his attention back to me. “Darren’s grounded?”
I nodded.
“What an idiot!” Clancy said.
“That’s what I said,” chimed Quinn.
Every now and then as we talked, I glanced in Jackie’s direction. She was with a few of her old girl friends and of course had a host of boys surrounding her. Over the next 20 minutes she caught me looking at her twice. I quickly averted my gaze, but knew she had me. I’m a bigger idiot than Darren.
“Jesus, Wheat!” said Clancy. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
“What’d he do?” asked Ron.
“He keeps staring at little miss hottie over there.”
“No I don’t!” I lied.
“Then why is your face getting red?”
“It’s not.” I already felt stupid for getting caught by Jackie and scrambled to throw the focus onto someone else. “Maybe yours is red.”
My comment made no sense.
“No, dumbass,” Clancy replied. “A nice thing about being black is no one knows when I’m embarrassed.”
Eric, returning from the garage with a full beer in each hand, said, “Black people don’t get embarrassed?”
“Haaaa!” Quinn yelled inappropriately loud. “You’re even dumber than Brandon!”
At least we were no longer talking about me staring at Jackie. The girl still had an effect on me after all these years and I felt I was just one more sloppy move away from everyone in the house knowing. I resolved not to look towards her at all and even positioned myself so that my back was to her. This went fine for a while until Moss shouted at Quinn from across the room, “Quinn! Where’s my burrito!?”
Clearly, Moss had made multiple trips to the keg. However, his questions made a little sense. Quinn accidentally sat on Moss’s burrito at lunch on Wednesday and, therefore, owed him one.
“Do I look like I have a burrito?” Quinn asked incredulously.
“Go to Del Taco and get me one!”
“Are you crazy? I’m not walking 6 blocks to get you a burrito.”
As everyone else’s attention turned to the spectacle, I risked another peek toward the girl of my dreams. To my shock, she was looking right at me. For some reason my brain had failed to account for this possibility and couldn’t decide how to react. I stared back. The look on my face must have matched that of a Cro-Magnon man confronted with a calculus problem.
And then… she smiled.
Finally the gears in my head jolted into action again. I smiled sheepishly, turned and walked out of the room. As soon as I was out of Jackie’s field of vision I wanted to turn around and go right back in. Then I could, uh, I don’t know, stare at her some more? No. If I went back, I would somehow try to find the courage to walk right up and talk to her, regardless of who was around her. Of course, it was more likely that I would wimp out and people would start to think that I was walking around aimlessly.
What should Brandon do?
If he should return and immediately try to speak to Jackie, go to Chapter 37.
If he should play it cool and kill a few minutes before heading back out to the patio room, go to Chapter 14.
Maybe she will see me and come up and talk to me. I walk over to Eric and Quinn where I am comfortable. They are funny and the conversation is easy, of course.
Periodically I glance over to see what Jackie is up to, but not so often that the guys catch on to the object of my attention.
At one point Billy is not near Jackie. In fact, no one is. She stands and brushes the sand off of her jeans. Somehow, she’s even prettier than she was when we shared a class together in 9th grade.
Jackie glances around and realizes I’m looking at her again. She smiles sweetly and I feel my internal temperature rise. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or my forehead is about to break out in a bead of sweat. I manage to smile back and share another nice moment. Then two girls from school, Carolyn and Becky, started up a conversation with her.
She smiled at me twice tonight! This was great. When it happens again, I’m going to talk to her!
I grab another cup of poor tasting beer and take a big gulp. Yuck. I go back to sipping and begin to weigh the pros and cons of trying to down a few cups. It might loosen me up or it might lead to me doing something stupid again. The memories of Jerry Booker’s party flooded to center stage in my mind and made me shutter. Before I could make up my mind, a voice rang out above the dim of the party.
“The trucks!”
The warning was quickly repeated by several others with a mix of excitement and fear.
I looked down the beach. Sure enough, four dots of light in the far distance were making their way in our direction.
Pete immediately started shouting directions. “You know what to do, people! Grab your stuff and get out of sight. And we need help carrying the wood!”
Everyone went into action. Blankets and other belongings were snatched up and carried away.
I looked around for Jackie. Billy was speaking excitedly to her and reached for her hand. My heart sank.
“Brandon!” Eric shouted. “You gonna grab some wood or what?”
His voice snapped me into action. I filled his arms with logs and scooped up as much as I could handle. We trudged off of the beach and hid our stash well up into the bushes.
We returned to get a second load. The trucks were closer, but still a ways off. I slowly walked back towards the woodpile by the fire as each of my steps sank into the soft sand. I looked about but couldn’t see Jackie or Billy.
The pile was much smaller now. Nearby Pete and two other guys were on their hands and knees evening out the sand that completely covered the keg. I got an armful of wood and looked back to the trucks. They were much closer now and each swept the beach and nearby woods with a spotlight.
“Hurry you guys!” I said to those still near the keg, “They’re going to see us!”
As always, Pete was prepared for every contingency. “You take the wood and hide. They’ve already seen the fire and it will look weird if no one is with it. I’ll convince them it’s just Becky and I and they’ll be on their way. If they know we’re having a party, they’ll never leave. Now get up there and tell them that I’m going to kill anyone that shows his face!”
Becky and Carolyn Pessero were nearby. Becky nervously fingered her e-cig as Carolyn said goodbye and ran towards the trees.
Quinn, Darren, Moss, Eric and I picked up the remaining logs and shuffled away. Huffing and puffing we hiked a good fifty yards off of the sand and found a spot behind several layers of trees, shrubs and a few large boulders. I dumped the wood and laid down to catch my breath.
Around me in every direction whispers and quiet talking floated about. The combination of tall and medium trees blocked the sky. As my eyes adjusted I could make out the shapes of some of my classmates in their hiding spots. After a while we grew bored and began cracking jokes. Suddenly the hillside below us came alive with hushed, urgent voices. “They’re here!” “Be quiet!” “Stay out of sight!” floated about. And then there was silence. The trucks had arrived.
Far off voices floated up from the beach – not hushed, but normal volume. It was undoubtedly Pete wagging that silver tongue of his.
The sheriff’s department drove down the beaches almost every Friday and Saturday night. Once in a while we got lucky when they were busy with actual crime and the trucks didn’t appear. Clearly their goal was to keep kids from having any fun. I had no idea why they cared. We cleaned up out mess and let the fire burn down in the middle of a well-marked ring. No one would accidentally step on hot coals the next day if they had any sense about them.
In any regard, our hopes of returning to the beach rested on Pete.
After a minute the talking stopped. All was quiet for a few seconds and then a bright light momentarily illuminated the trees around us. They were sweeping the dense trees and bushes along the hillside with their spotlights. After a few minutes the spotlights went out. The talking on the beach continued for quite a long time afterwards. Finally I heard what sounded like car doors. This was taking forever. Finally Pete whistled, signaling the ‘all clear’. We stood up and sure enough, the trucks were gone.
Once back on the beach I could see the tail lights of the far off trucks as they continued their patrol down the beach. Pete had been forced to carry a Sherriff’s bucket from the water and back several times to douse the fire. It was so completely wet that it produced neither heat nor smoke. Pete unburied the keg and within minutes the beer was flowing again. We all sat in a circle around the wet logs and the now much mellower party continued.
Jackie wasn’t far off, but now that everyone was sitting, the chances of her and I wandering into the same space was almost zero. An hour later, she rose to leave. Of course that leach Billy Owens stayed by her side and walked with her back up to the cars.
Hopefully I’d be able to see her at another party soon.
Brandon waits and hopes as the months go by, but the stars don’t align.
(End of story. If you would like to add more, please message with the little envelope at the top of this page. I’ll send you an invite to add to this story.)
You can’t just go and have a party at one of the easy access beaches. Those are popular during the day and are more likely to be patrolled by law enforcement at night. The more obscure – and therefore less patrolled – beaches were north of Santa Cruz. However, there were so many little sandy coves surrounded by cliffs along that stretch, people often ended up in the wrong place and had no idea where to find their friends.
This party was planned south of SC by Pete Tarragon, a senior who saved his money and bought a beat up Porsche Boxster just so he could say that he owned a sports car. He somehow knew all the obscure locations along the coast and picked a good one for the evening’s festivities, one that the cops would miss but kids could find.
Eric parked at the end of a line of cars belonging to Perrimon High students. Following directions that had been texted and re-texted over the last few days, we looked for Pete’s Porsche. The rusty red Boxster marked the trailhead to the beach. Without it, the path would have been hard to find among the trees, bushes, and tall grass. The trail was steep and a little muddy from rain a day earlier, making it extremely slippery. Pete and his buddies must have had a heck of a time getting the keg down to the sand.
Most of the uneven trail ran alongside a canyon that was twenty feet or so deep. If the ground was completely dry, it wasn’t much of a problem for sober people to navigate. However, fog and light rain often peppered the coast and therefore, the trail rarely dried out. Tonight was clear and relatively warm, but again, the trail was slick.
My feet started to slip out from under me more than once, but I managed to keep my balance. When we were about half way to the beach, Eric’s feet went out from under him. He landed hard on his butt, just managing to keep from sliding further into the canyon, but most of the wood he had been carrying disappeared into the shrubs that lined its sides.
Of course Quinn and I found this to be extremely funny and insisted he crawl around in the dark at the bottom of the canyon to find every last log.
“Kiss my ass,” he said, picking up the one within reach and continued down the trial.
A quarter mile later the trees and mud gave way to sand.
“There they are,” Quinn said and motioned with his head. “Let’s go. This wood is getting heavy.”
“No it isn’t,” Eric replied and laughed. Then he grabbed a few pieces from Quinn and myself. “I think I can handle this now that we’re on flat ground.”
A fire blazed a couple hundred yards away and familiar faces stood out in the orange light. As we approached I carefully scanned the partygoers as best I could. Some were easy because the firelight shone on their faces. Others were more difficult since they were between me and the fire. Even though I couldn’t identify who they were, the dark silhouettes let me know who they were not, and that was more important. In particular, I was looking for Carl and was relieved not to see his abnormally large body. He usually attended the bonfires although word had spread that he would not make it this time.
We dropped our remaining wood in with the rest of the fuel about 20 feet from the blaze.
“Is that all you guys brought?” Pete asked, sounding disappointed.
“Eric lost his on the trail,” Quinn said to snickers and nods of understanding from others nearby.
Eric smirked, but said nothing.
Looking around, I found the stack of red plastic cups set up on a towel. My eyes adjusted and the silver circle next to the towel took shape. I picked up the end of the tube attached to the center and poured myself a beer. As usual, the keg had been buried with only the top inch showing, and even that portion was lower than the surrounding sand.
Taking a sip, I found that the beer tasted like… beer. Not good, but again it was something to do with everyone else. I talked and mingled around the large fire for nearly a half hour. Then a jolt of electricity flashed through me when my eyes locked onto Jackie Spears’. I didn’t even realize she was there. Did she just arrive? Maybe.
She was sitting on the other side of the blaze, watching me. A huge smile spread across my face before I remembered it would be smarter to play it cool with a smaller, barely interested smile; one that said “Oh yeah, I think I remember you.” But it was too late for that.
Her response to my overly toothy grin was a sweet, lightly amused smile. Billy Owens was next to Jackie, talking to her and appeared to be in the middle of some animated story. He talked and gestured and didn’t notice that her attention had strayed.
“She might think you’re a stalker if you keep staring like that.”
The words jarred me loose. I turned to see one of the Choi twins by my side wearing a slight smile.
“Oh, hi Tony. Yeah, I guess I should try and keep my eyes in my head. I’m sure I’m giving her the creeps.”
“She stares at you too,” he replied. “Only, she isn’t so obvious about it.”
She stares at me? That seemed hard to believe.
“Yeah, I need to work on that,” I said, loving, but not acknowledging, his comment.
In my gut I expected everyone to realize that me getting the best of Carl was just not true, or at least a fluke that could never be repeated in a thousand years. Somehow, though, the strangeness had lasted an entire week. Jackie actually looking at me for longer than a second was proof of that.
The fact that I was speaking to Tony Choi was another example of the weirdness. It’s not that he was stuck up or thought he was better than me – I never got that impression from him. I simply didn’t know him very well and from what I did know, he didn’t generally talk just to be talking. No, he was pretty quiet unless he had something of substance to say. That’s what made this conversation seem so odd. He was making small talk. The look on his face and his tone made me think there was something else on his mind. And after a few more minutes of idle chatter, he came out with it.
He looked about a little, making sure no one could hear us, and said, “Do you mind if I ask you a question, Brandon?”
“Go ahead,” I said, wondering what this was about, but pretty sure I knew the answer.
“What happened in the bathroom at the party last week?”
I was right. Same old subject. “I already told everyone all about it,” I said, talking fast and in a low voice to avoid drawing eavesdroppers. “I kneed Carl in the balls, the lights went out, he swept my legs out from under me and lost his balance in the process. I think he hit his face or head against the counter top because after hitting the floor it sounded like he tried to get up, only to fall hard a second time. That’s what happened.”
“Then why was Carl was so incredibly out of it when he came downstairs? Why was everything in the bathroom exactly where it should have been except for the tissue box? I would think a fight in complete darkness would lead to things being knocked over. Why was the sink completely red with blood? Why were there only a few drops of blood on the floor and none anywhere else?”
I found most of the grilling annoying, since I didn’t know the answer to any of the questions. The last two questions, however, peaked my interest.
“Almost all the blood was in the sink?” I asked.
“Yes. I think I was the only one that noticed because everyone else was staring at Carl’s big, bloody face. And after the party, I helped Carolyn and Tom by cleaning it up. Now I wish I would have taken a picture first.”
He continued, “I suppose he could have hung onto the counter with his face over the sink after he, ‘lost his balance.’” Tony held his hands up and made finger quotes before the last three words.
“Wow,” I said. “I have no idea.”
“Hmmmmm.” He made a noise that meant either he was considering what I said or doubting it. “Can you answer any of the other questions I asked?”
“No. I can’t,” I said, starting to let a little annoyance creep into my voice. “It was completely dark. There are no windows in that bathroom. Why don’t you ask Carl what happened?”
That would be like asking a shark if you could put your head in its mouth. Tony realized he had pushed too hard and was getting on my nerves, so he awkwardly switched back to chit-chat. After a few more strained minutes, he went to join his brother and Carolyn by the keg.
I watched them for a moment, thinking how the splash from last week’s party still sent ripples through the lives of everyone there. Most people probably no longer noticed them, but the waves affected almost every waking moment of my life. My brain told me things would soon return to almost normal, but the feeling in my gut whispered that this was only the beginning.
‘Beginning of what?’ I wondered. Part of me wanted to play it safe, as I usually had in life. However, another part wanted to somehow go further – past the boundaries I had always lived within. It was a part of myself I hadn’t noticed before.
I stared into the fire.
Stepping beyond the limits of good sense usually didn’t work out well for me. The last time was at Jerry Booker’s party, when I drank way too much and roundly embarrassed myself.
Booker fancied himself a beer connoisseur and provided a keg of disgustingly thick coffee infused beer. It was horrible, but I drank a lot of it. At the party I somehow missed a step leading down into his sunken living room and fell on my face. My full cup of swill smashed onto the carpet and sprayed a large section of nearby ceiling to floor white curtains. A group of chatting girls was sprinkled with dark brown drops.
I felt like an idiot each time I thought about it.
If I pushed my luck here something similar could happen again. Or something worse. I might be embarrassed or beat up in front of Jackie. Then she, and the rest of the school, would know for certain that I was a fraud.
My brain ran the calculations with all the available information it had and spit out its answer: don’t make waves, don’t push your luck. You got lucky once and should be plenty happy with the fifteen minutes of fame it brought you. Better to let it fade than to act and turn it into a lifetime of embarrassment.
“Ugh!” A whack on my upper back brought me back to the world around me. I turned to see Darren standing next to me.
“Whasssup!?” he said, swaying slightly front to back.
“Oh, hi Darren. I was just thinking,” I said.
“About Jackie Spears?!” he said in his drinking voice, which was several octaves louder than his normal voice.
“No!” I lied. “And talk quieter. I’m right next to you.”
“Oh schorry man,” he slurred. “I’ll be cool.”
“Thank you.”
“So whatcha thinkin’ bout if it ain’t sexy sexy sexy Jackie?” he said in a softer, but still way to loud voice. “That’s who I’m thinking bout.”
Turning my head slightly I noticed that both Jackie and Billy were watching us. They probably couldn’t understand everything we said over the crackle of the fire, but they had definitely caught enough to know who we were talking about. I was already feeling self-conscious. I was sure my infatuation with her showed on my face and it was just a matter of time before everyone else noticed, like a zit that finally came to the surface. Darren’s loud mouth only served to shine a light on my feelings. I had to nip this in the bud or he was going to embarrass both of us.
I said wryly, “I’m trying to figure out if I should knock you out with a piece of firewood or hand you beers until you pass out.”
Without hesitation Darren replied, “I think you should hand me beers,” and then laughed like he had said the funniest thing since Louis CK’s last stand-up routine.
I sighed. Darren was smart and funny in his own way, but never got loud because he equated it with the redneck lifestyle he so loathed. Well, not until he was drunk, but that rarely happened. He seemed to be acting a little weird all week, and the fact that he was already toasted continued his odd behavior.
Darren is being an embarrassment. What to do….
Bring Darren away from Jackie and Billy. Go to Chapter 39.
Stay there but tell Darren to get lost. Go to Chapter 30.
She is thinking about me right now and right now is the best time to approach her. My stomach does flips. I force the brewing nausea away and make my feet move. I step around the fire and walk right up to Jackie and Billy.
His eyes turn up to see me as he is in mid sentence. His cadence slows a little and the cheery look on his face fades, but he continues with his story. “He was standing almost on top of the plate, so I really had no choice. One fastball special right into his knee!”
Billy was talking about baseball, of course. Jackie nodded her head in response to his tale and looked up at me.
“Hi!” she said with a smile.
“Hi Jackie!” I replied. “Hi Billy!”
“Hey,” Billy said unenthusiastically.
For a long moment no one spoke.
“Well?!” Billy said, his annoyance at my intrusion was now showing through. Jackie still wore a small smile. She was waiting to hear what I had to say.
“Um, I just thought I would say ‘hi’. I haven’t seen Jackie in a couple of years.”
“Dude! We’re in the middle of a conversation.” Billy was moving from annoyed to angry. There was a small yet growing chance that I would get punched this evening.
“Oh, yeah,” I back peddled. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’.”
“HI!” Billy said way too loud. People nearby looked towards the disturbance. I was aware that a nerd – me – had stepped beyond his boundaries and that would be apparent to everyone else as well.
“Okay, see you guys.” I stepped back away from the danger zone.
“It’s good seeing you again, Brandon,” Jackie said as I faded away.
“You too,” I replied so quietly I don’t know if anyone heard.
I made my way out of the circle of firelight and slowly trudged around the outskirts of the party. When I rejoined Eric, Quinn, and the other guys, they all had shit-eating grins plastered on their goofy faces.
“That didn’t go so well,” Quinn laughed.
My face grew redder as the other guys joined in the laughter and verbal jabs. Although they made me feel a little worse, it was the price that had to be paid. Guys always gave their friends a lot of shit.
Finally Quinn let me off the hook. “Hey, I’ll say this much for you Wheat. What you did was brave.” The others nodded in agreement. “Someday you’re going to have to figure out how to talk to a girl!” Hi booming voice erupted in buzzed laughter.
I looked back over to Jackie and she was now standing and talking to a group that included Billy and a few other people. Why couldn’t I be in that group? Quinn was right. I needed to somehow work on my social game. I thought about trying to speak to her again later in the night and immediately rejected the idea. I had already put my hand on the stove once and received a painful burn. I wasn’t about to do it again.
Periodically I glance over to see what Jackie was up to, but not so often that the guys caught on to the object of my attention.
At one point Billy was not near Jackie. In fact, no one was. She stood and brushed the sand off of her jeans. I looked away before she caught me staring at her again. When I glanced back, she was in a new conversation with two of the girls from school.
I sighed deeply and walked down to the edge of the water to watch the crashing waves. A few minutes lost in thought slipped by when I hear a shout.
“The trucks!”
The warning was quickly repeated by several others with a mix of excitement and fear.
I looked down the beach. Sure enough, four dots of light in the far distance were slowly making their way in our direction.
Pete immediately started shouting directions. “You all know what to do. Get busy! Grab your stuff and get out of sight. And we need help carrying the wood!”
Everyone went into action. Blankets and other belongings were snatched up and carried away.
I looked around for Jackie. Billy was speaking excitedly to her and reached for her hand. My heart sank. I lingered by the water for a few minutes before half-heartedly joining in. Picking up a few pieces of wood and a hat someone left behind, I trudged off of the beach and up the hill until I found a classmate hiding behind some bushes. It was Tony Choi, one of the school smart kids.
“You got room for another person back there, Tony?” I asked.
“Yes, plenty.”
I dropped my load and took a seat behind some thick shrubs. Hushed voices floated about on the hill above me. Tony doesn’t talk a lot, so we sat mostly in silence and waited. The trucks approach and the hillside chatter peaked before dropping to total silence. We could tell by the sound of things that the sheriffs exited their vehicles and begin to interrogate Pete. The crashing waves made it impossible to figure out the conversation, but by the tone of it all, Pete handled himself well.
The law drove down the beaches almost every Friday and Saturday night. Once in a while we got lucky when they were busy with actual crime and the trucks didn’t appear. Clearly their goal was to keep kids from having any fun. I had no idea why they cared. We cleaned up out mess and let the fire burn down in the middle of a well-marked ring. No one would accidentally step on hot coals the next day if they had any intelligence at all.
In any regard, our hopes of returning to the beach rested on Pete.
After a minute the talking stopped. All was quiet for a few seconds and then a bright light momentarily illuminated the bushes around us. Spotlights swept back and forth for what felt like an hour, but was probably more like a minute.
“Hey! Get down here!” Crap. Some idiot didn’t hide well enough. Both lights fixed on a point some thirty yards behind us. I turned in time to see Darren rise up and try to scramble up the hill. He really must have had a lot to drink, since he immediately stumbled, crushing a baby eucalyptus tree.
Someone yelled “Every man for himself!” and the hillside came alive. Tony and I jumped and raced further up the hill. I turned right to work my way back to the beach trail and was forced to scramble through and over bushes time and time again. Out of breath and covered with scratches, I found my way up to the street. Tony was nowhere to be seen.
Cars filled with people and sped off. Luckily Eric was already in his car, waiting for me.
Once we were safely on highway 17 heading back to San Jose, the adrenaline crash set in. I put my head back on the seat rest and wondered if Jackie got away. I hoped to see her again, but worried that might never happen. Had she moved back to the west coast or was she just visiting old friends? Either way, I didn’t know if I could ever get the nerve to speak to her again, tonight went so badly.
(End of story. If you would like to add more, please message me or add a comment here. I’ll send you an invite to add to this story. Otherwise…. )
Brandon hopes for another party. Several months later one of the better connected sophomores throws a big bash at his house. Jackie does not make an appearance. After asking around, Brandon learns that no one has seen her in since that night on the beach.
Brandon never sees her again. What a bummer.
I didn’t really have anywhere to go, but felt too embarrassed to linger in the screen room any longer. I headed toward the front room, which was the least crowded. When I got there, my way was blocked by the hulking back of Carl Overfelt. He was easily the strongest guy in school. Unfortunately, he was also the meanest. At present he was cussing at someone – who, I had no idea, because they were completely obscured by his giant form. Carl was 6’6,” nearly 300 pounds and not too much of him appeared to be made of fat, yet he was still plenty wide.
“I’m sick of you anyway,” he growled at whoever it was and apparently holding him or her in place. Then his giant hand rose up to the side, only to clap back down. A body crumpled to the floor. I could see between Carl’s tree trunk legs that it was his girlfriend, Nicole.
She instantly began crying and fortunately her long black hair covered her eyes. No one was in the room but the three of us, so I backed out hoping I hadn’t been noticed.
“Get the fuck out of here, you dirty whore,” Carl roared. I was actually relieved to hear him yell because it meant he was done hitting. Carl always kept his mouth shut until any fighting was over. Nicole probably wouldn’t be struck again… at least not immediately.
I always suspected he slapped her around once in a while. Once when she came to school with a black eye and a few girls asked her about it, her reasoning was shaky. Nobody said anything else until Matt Arnold, whose mouth got him in trouble from time to time, made a smart-ass “wife beater” comment and wound up with two cracked ribs and a broken nose, compliments of Carl. I had hoped Carl would get expelled for that, but Matt kept his mouth shut for the first time in his life and nothing came of it.
The fear of Carl spotting me faded as I moved farther away, but it was quickly replaced by something even less pleasant. I liked to picture myself as being an upstanding guy who would at least speak up if someone couldn’t do it for his or her self. No real situation like that had ever arisen before, and I figured I was up to the challenge. But that image was shattered as I snuck quietly away and left Nicole alone with Carl. I tried to justify it, knowing that I would have been badly beaten up had I tried to interfere, but leaving Nicole crying on the floor still felt absolutely awful.
Making my way to the keg in the garage, I grabbed another plastic cup from the washing machine having left my other one behind after finding Jackie Spears looking at me. The keg pressure was lower now so it took longer to pour, but soon I had another cup of watery beer. Leaning against a work bench, I drank a few sips. Funny, it seemed to have almost no taste at all. Neither good nor bad. My sense of taste had taken a back seat to the other processes running in my head.
I was feeling low and going lower the more I thought about Nicole. What was worse, doing nothing when she was slapped to the ground or silently slinking away? Both were horrible.
Although I knew who she was since the first day of middle school, I had never spoken to Nicole a single time. She was out of my league, but that wasn’t why. Well, that wasn’t the only reason. Jackie was much further out – she was in the majors and I was still playing T-ball – but I could usually muster up the courage to say hi to her. No, that wasn’t it. Nicole and I simply never crossed paths in any real way. We had no mutual friends and for the first six years that we attended the same school we never had a class together. This year, however, we were both in Mr. Henderson’s 4th period American History. Unfortunately, we sat on opposite sides of the room and still hadn’t so much as said hello. It’s not that we were being rude, our lives hadn’t crossed.
Even so, our lack of a friendship didn’t make me feel any better. I no longer felt like joking around with the guys, or talking with anyone for that matter, and I certainly didn’t want to be near Jackie. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but I didn’t want her to see me after such a cowardly act.
I headed to the back of the house and found both bathrooms occupied. Great. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, so instead of waiting around outside the door where someone might strike up a conversation, I climbed the back stairs, assuming such a large home must have toilets up there as well.
This part of the house was probably off limits to partygoers, so I moved quickly to avoid being seen. So far so good and at the top of the stairs no one was in sight. Choosing the direction that seemed most likely to have a bathroom, I walked down a dim hall. Turning a corner I stepped into the opening of a bathroom and came to a dead stop. My heart made up for the lack of motion by beating triple-time. Once again I found myself looking at the giant back of Carl Overfelt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he said in a menacing voice.
Thinking he heard me approach, I almost blurted out some sort of apology and ran off. However, it became apparent he had no idea I was there when a soft voice from the other side of his hulking frame said, “You get out of my way!”
Holy crap! There was a girl in there and it wasn’t Nicole. No, I knew that voice, but couldn’t put my finger on who it belonged to.
Carl stepped forward toward the girl. “You little tease,” he said, slightly slurring his words. “You think you’re too good for me?”
“Ouch!” the girl exclaimed as he grabbed her arms, pulling them apart. I still couldn’t see her, but she must have had her hands up to ward him off. Now each of Carl’s oversized mitts were closed around her tiny forearms. He pulled them slowly back to each side and leaned towards her face. He was going in for a kiss.
“No!” the girl demanded.
Carl gave an amused grunt as his giant head continued down towards her mouth.
Wow! This is a bad situation. What should Brandon do?
He could speak up and tell Carl to leave her alone. He can’t stand by and do nothing AGAIN, can he? If you want Brandon to interfere, go to Chapter 21.
Wait a second here. This giant turd has no problems hitting women, so it’s pretty clear he will not hesitate to punch Brandon’s teeth down his throat – and possibly much worse. Brandon needs to back off and live to fight another day. Besides, he can’t do that girl any good if he’s beaten to a mushy pulp. If this is your choice and Brandon backs away unseen, go to Chapter 38.
“Dude!” I said to Billy. “Help me move the keg! Come on!” I turned and ran off towards the beer, knowing this would put a lot of pressure on Billy to follow. If he didn’t, he would look like a selfish ass in front of Jackie. When I got to the keg I turned and saw Jackie and Billy not far behind. Billy’s face and gate showed no enthusiasm. Jackie must have urged him to help.
Since it was mostly buried in the sand I grabbed one of the handles built into the top rim and waited for Billy to grab the other side.
“No man!” Pete exclaimed when he saw what I was trying to do. “Throw a towel over the top and bury it.”
Jackie arrived with Billy on her heels.
“See!” Billy said, looking to Jackie and then to me. “This is a waste of time. Come on, Jackie.” He grabbed her hand and attempted to lead her away again.
“You’ll lose your keg deposit and the beer and you know they’re going to be suspicious.” I said tilting my head towards the oncoming vehicles.
Pete looked at me squarely as he contemplated the possibilities. Billy’s outstretched hand pulled Jackie’s arm horizontal as he attempted to move them away from me, but Jackie’s feet remained planted as she awaited the decision.
“Yeah,” Pete said slowly. “You guys better hide it in the trees.
Billy was a mix of disgust and anger. He dropped Jackie’s hand and stomped over. Once his hand gripped the keg I started a three count. “Just pull it!” Billy yelled before my count ended. I did and with considerable straining lifted the silver cylinder out of the pit. Holy crap it was heavy. I was thankful I filled a cup earlier, slightly lightening the load.
Billy and I struggled with the keg to the edge of beach. In spite of his skill with a baseball, he seemed to be having almost as much trouble as me. Jackie offered to help on two occasion to which Billy and I flatly refused. Our pride was at stake.
Pete yelled from his position by the fire, “Hurry the hell up you guys! The trucks are getting close!”
We pumped our legs and drug the keg through the remaining sand. We needed to bring it some distance up the side of the hill, but couldn’t see how that was going to happen before the sheriffs arrived. I was aware of a disturbance behind me and saw Billy’s eyes grow wide. I turned in time to see a giant hand inches from my face. It made sudden, but fairly soft contact with my head and quickly drove me backwards. My feet collided as I unsuccessfully attempted to remain upright. Taking my place at the keg was the enormous figure of Carl Overfelt.
“Leggo,” he ordered Billy, who quickly released his grip.
Carl stood upright, easily lifting the mostly full 15 gallon keg with one hand and looked about for the best place to hide the shiny silver container. He and I realize at the same time that Jackie was giving him a dirty look. Maybe she didn’t like the way he bullied Billy and I. It didn’t matter though, crossing Carl with a look or any other way was a bad idea.
“You gotta problem, bitch?” he growled at Jackie. Billy’s eyes grew wider and his head turned quickly between Jackie and Carl.
“Yeah. You, you pushy asshole.” Her face was without fear. She clearly had no idea what she was doing.
Billy’s mouth dropped open. “uhhhh...” rolled slowly off his tongue. “Er, uh, let’s go Jackie.” He pawed for her hand while keeping his eyes on Carl.
“No! I’m not going to be bullied.” She avoided Billy’s searching hand and crossed her arms.
Carl glowered at Billy and pointed a sausage-like finger off into the distance. Billy got the hint. He turned, briefly made eye contact with Jackie and slunk off into the darkness.
The big man’s attention focused back on Jackie. She was so much smaller than him it really was a David and Goliath image. “I don’t know how last week happened, you little bitch. But it will never happen again.”
Carl had been holding the keg all this time and now brought it quickly up over his head. Jackie seemed to finally grasp some of the severity of the situation. She raised her hands in a feeble attempt to shield herself from being crushed like a bug.
I had always appreciated that a mean, ugly guy like Carl had never really noticed me. Even after shoving me away from the keg it was pretty clear he had forgotten I was even there. I was about to ruin my awesome Harry Potter cloak of invisibility.
“Uh uh…” I stammered.
The giant moved fast. In an instant he had plopped the keg onto the dirt and sand mix that made up the ground at the foot of the hill (but purposely not hard enough to rupture or dent the holder of the precious beer) and spun to face me. He obviously expected to see one of his classmates with status, because his face went from his standard angry look, to wide eyed surprise, quickly followed by clenched teeth, red faced fury. “Leave… or… die!” he commanded.
His face was still badly bruised from the Carolyn’s party and his nose remained held in place by tape. Somehow that only clarified that I was in immediate, spleen rupturing danger.
This giant oaf is angry, strong and clearly wants to hurt someone. What should Brandon do?
Should he turn and run – or at least walk – away and keep all his teeth in his mouth? Carl probably wouldn’t really drop a keg on her, right? Hmmmm. Anyway, if Brandon should save his bacon go to Chapter 27.
Or should he try to reason with the big ugly? Go to Chapter 20.
No, he needs to teach this bully a lesson! Punch him in his broken nose! Go to Chapter 18.
“Hey!” someone yelled, “leave her alone!”
A moment of relief washed over me as I realized someone other than me was about to get his face bashed in. Then I felt sorry for the brave soul and hoped he was a fast runner. With any luck he would escape without a scratch – that is, until Carl caught up with him at school on Monday. All of this took but a second or two… and then I realized that no one else was in the hall and the words came from me! I wondered what kind of thrill-seeking, suicidal part of my brain made me do such a thing.
Carl turned and for the first time I could see that it was Jackie he had cornered! They both appeared surprised at my outburst and I imagined my face held the same look – shock that I dared cross the giant troll.
The next surprise was that Carl didn’t immediately spin around and drive his fist into my face. Instead, he turned back toward Jackie, letting his head linger for a moment to growl in my direction. “You got one second to get the fuck outta here.”
There was clearly something wrong with me and it wasn’t the beer. Although I filled up twice, I drank less than a cup. No, maybe seeing Nicole crumpled and crying on the floor somehow caused a blood vessel to pop in my head. It didn’t seem likely, but I couldn’t think of a better explanation for what I did next.
“Come on man. Let her out of there,” I said and actually stepped forward towards Carl. “She’s been gone a long time, she doesn’t know…” What am I going to say now? Know what? That you slap your girlfriend around and Jackie might actually be in danger of being raped by you?
He apparently finished the sentence the same way in his head and swung an elbow up and back toward my face. “Get outta here NOW!” he snarled.
I saw it coming and pulled my head back. His elbow grazed me in the nose, but not a crushing blow. Jackie seemed to be watching us the way a six-year-old might watch two ants fight over a cookie crumb. Instead of fear, there was only curiosity.
Although I’m a little taller than most of the guys at Perrimon High, I’m thin and fairly awkward. Fighting isn’t my thing. But not even a big guy like Quinn was a match for Carl. Bravery wasn’t my thing either and the tweak to my nose snapped the sense back into me. I was very close to having my face pounded into hamburger and desperately wanted to turn and run. I looked again to Jackie, but her expression made it obvious she had no idea what she was up against.
“Jackie..” I said, but before another word crossed my lips, Carl spun around, put a monstrous hand around my throat, clamped the other down on my bicep and slammed me against the bathroom wall.
“So you wanna be a fucking hero, huh?” He kicked the bathroom door shut so no one would hear what was about to happen, then slammed me against the wall again. My head struck hard and it hurt, but I was more worried about breathing. With both my hands I tried to pry his overgrown fingers off my neck as he pulled back and slammed me into the wall for the third time. Struggling with all my might, I loosened his grip enough to croak out two words. “…jackie…run…”
There really wasn’t anywhere for her to go since Carl and I blocked the way, but she didn’t even try. In fact, she didn’t appear interested in leaving, instead she casually watched us.
How could she be so stupid? I was about to die and then Carl was going to have his way with her on my corpse. Well, I could at least make it as difficult as possible for him to enjoy himself, so I brought my knee up hard and fast into his balls.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!” Carl roared as he crumpled to his knees, his hand still tight around my neck. I half smiled half grimaced as he righted himself. He pulled his free hand back and balled it into a tight fist.
I raised my hands but there was no way to prevent broken facial bones. With my head held firm against the wall, I would receive the full force of the punch. As I prepared for impact, Jackie finally came to life. “Nooooooo!” she yelled. Carl and I tilted our gaze toward her. To my relief I saw that she held a weapon high over her head, ready to throw it and deal a savage blow to Carl. But my hopes fell just as quickly when I realized it was only a box of tissues. With all her strength she hurled the box, and the Kleenex sailed towards us. Unfortunately she throws like a girl. The tissues flew harmlessly by, missing Carl by at least a foot. It struck the light switch, putting the bathroom in complete darkness. This was an unexpected wrinkle, but didn’t necessarily do me any good. I quickly covered my face with both hands to help against the punch that was surely still coming.
But it didn’t. Maybe Carl feared he would miss my face and hit the wall, as unlikely as that seemed. With a grunt he pulled his hand away from my neck without loosening his fingers. It hurt as his nails scraped off layers of my skin. In spite of the pain, I was momentarily free. My chance to –
Too late. My feet were kicked out from under me and I landed hard on my back. Carl grunted again. Then I heard something impact the bathroom counter rather hard, then hit the floor.
Ha! The big freak must have slipped after sweeping my feet into the air. Good.
His moans rose a few feet as he seemingly tried to stand again. Another crack sounded in the direction of the sink followed by louder moaning. Man, was he a klutz in the dark.
I scrambled to my knees and then to my feet. I needed to move fast and get Jackie out of there before Carl could find the light switch. With hands out in front of me, I stumbled forward. I knew it would scare her when I put my hands on her, but there didn’t seem to be another way. If I called out, it would give my position away and Carl might give up looking for the switch and opt for a bigger target like my face.
I shuffled quickly forward, my hands searched the blackness for either Jackie or perhaps a wall, until my foot hits something solid and I pitched forward. The sound was ridiculously loud as I clanged to the bottom of the bath tub.
Crap. He’ll be on me in seconds.
There was some sort of water sounds over near the sink. Carl must have accidentally bumped the faucet. I flailed my arms and still could not find her. “Jackie!” I half cried, getting desperate now. The water sound stopped and I heard her beautiful voice just below one of my outstretched arms.
“I’m here,” she said. “Help me Brandon!”
There was fear in her voice. Reaching down I found her shoulder and fumbled down her arm. She was crouched next to the tub. It’s a wonder I didn’t run into her in the dark. Grabbing her hand I whispered “let’s go” and pulled her to her feet.
She allowed me to guide her. My heart pounded, but I couldn’t be sure if it was fear of death or elation that I held Jackie Spears’ hand. Carl moaned again. We hugged the wall opposite the sink and made a break for it. I was almost to the door when my foot hit something. I brought my other foot quickly over it to stop me from falling forward, but it landed on what I believed to be Carl’s outstretched leg. As I tumbled onto his enormous calf I let go of Jackie, not wanting to pull her down as well.
I figured I was a dead man, but he just moaned again. Wow, he must have really hit his head on something when he fell. For a moment I heard the water sound again. It might have been from the sink or even the toilet. I had been in the dark too long and was getting disoriented. I scrambled off of Carl. Only now, I had no idea where Jackie was. Sweeping my arms back and forth in the dark, good luck struck and I touched her hand. I knew it was her and not Carl because it wasn’t the size of a catcher’s mitt. Quickly but gently I guided her forward while my other hand located the door knob. A moment later we were free.
We hustled down the front stairs into a crowd of people before I realized I still clutched her hand. Trembling, she looked up at me with scared and vulnerable eyes. Without thinking, I took her in my arms. She buried her head in my chest and in spite of my self-loathing earlier, I was the happiest guy on earth.
A few moments later I realize the party was different. Much of the talking stopped and most everyone looked in our direction. Only then did I realize what was going on. There was a mismatch. Like a cat in a swimming pool, Jackie in my arms just didn’t appear right. She was miles out of my league and everyone knew it.
After we embraced, she looked up at me again. A little smeared blood sat on the side of her mouth, which I tried to wipe away with my thumb.
“He hit you!” I said.
“I might have run into something. I really don’t know,” she said and started crying.
“Wheatley, what’n hell did you do?”
I turned my head to see Billy Owens – a southerner who moved up here a few years back, but never lost his accent. He’s one of the stars of the school baseball team and knows how to fight. He and the rest of the cool guys had come over. They weren’t sure what happened, but probably hoped I had done something that required physical payback. It’s certain he didn’t like me comforting Jackie and would prefer to do it himself.
“He saved me,” she said.
I knew that was completely overstating it, but before I could say anything, she continued. “Carl Overfelt cornered me in the bathroom upstairs.”
Eyebrows rose as everyone fully understood the position she was in. They rose even higher when she said, “He beat Carl up and pulled me out of there.”
What! Beat Carl up? He was seconds away from putting me in the hospital. The thing that saved me was Jackie’s terribly off target throw. I tried telling them I didn’t beat anyone up, but everyone began talking at once and several of the guys ran upstairs to see for themselves.
This was all just ridiculous. It got even worse when they returned and told everyone that Carl was a bloody mess and couldn’t even stand on his own. Afterwards I would catch people sizing me up. Guys generally have assumptions and calculations about how good other guys would be in a fight. I could see many of them were recalibrating their take on me.
Jackie and I made sure to be out in the screen room when Carl finally made his way downstairs. From what I was told, he had blood on his face and didn’t want to talk about what happened. My best guess was that he lost his balance while sweeping my legs out from under me and somehow hit his face on the edge of the counter top.
Eventually the party wound down and people began leaving. Billy offered to walk Jackie out to her car. I was mildly annoyed and thought I should get that honor. Wasn’t it me, after all, who had saved her? Well, no. It wasn’t, but Billy didn’t know that.
Oh well. It wasn’t like she was my girlfriend.
“Goodbye,” I said to her, feeling awkward. Our embrace had been so natural hours earlier, but now I felt so common again. She was way out of my league. My heart wanted to hug – maybe even dare to kiss her. The surreal confidence I felt as I held her earlier was completely gone and I wasn’t about to move in for even so much as a handshake.
Her perfect lips formed a slight smile as she looked up at me and I believe she knew exactly what I was thinking. Then she stepped forward, sliding her arms around me.
“Thank you,” she said, and kissed me on the cheek.
I was in heaven again. Her words lost all context in my head. On autopilot, I answered with “Your welcome.”
She smiled again, this time looking mildly amused. Then turned and walked out with Billy.
‘You’re welcome?’ I thought to myself. What a moron! I don’t know what I should have said there, but that wasn’t it. I was no hero. If she had seen the way I cowardly left Nicole crying on the floor…
That horrible memory flooded back to center stage in my mind, killing the amazing high from Jackie’s kiss.
The party was quickly winding down. As people made their way out, I lingered. I couldn’t be seen walking home, or into the percs to collect my bike. That would chip away at my brand new street cred. Luckily Carolyn Pessero’s parents would be out of town for two more days, and she announced that the people who drank too much to drive home could spend the night.
This was a pleasant surprise. It’s fairly common for a guy throwing a party to allow this sort of thing, but usually the last thing a girl wants is a bunch of drunk boys laid out on her furniture. Fortunately her boyfriend, Tom Choi, and his twin brother, Tony, were there, so they could put a lid on any possible funny business. The Choi brothers are both about average height and build. Neither had ever shown any propensity towards aggressiveness or fighting, but rumor is they know karate. It was almost certainly one that got started simply because they were two of the few Asian kids at our school.
When asked about their martial arts skills, they simply smiled.
This worked out perfectly for me. I couldn’t go home since I said I would be spending the night at Darren’s and with all the excitement of the last few hours, I completely forgot about working out a place to crash.
That left only one problem – my bike. The bushes were fine at night, but in broad daylight someone would spot it for sure. Even if I got lucky and the passersby didn’t intend to steal anything, it made no difference. They bike would appear abandoned, which was like putting a sign on the handlebars that read “Free to a good home.” It was a junker, but came in handy and I didn’t want to lose it.
Go to Chapter 26
Without over-thinking it, I leaned in and kissed her. Nicole was ready and kissed me back. I think she liked it, but her face still held some sort of longing. No knowing if it was the right thing to do, I gently pulled her into me and she wrapped her arms tightly around my back. There was another silence, but this was a good one. When she finally loosened her arms I judged that the hug was a lot more important to her than the kiss. She was starving for either human contact or a human connection. I wasn’t sure which, but felt bad for her.
“We should probably head back,” I said. Nicole nodded her head. “You go first. I’ll be about five minutes behind, okay?”
“Okay.” She nodded again.
I watched her leave and wondered if we would unconsciously act differently towards each other from now on. We both had to be very careful.
When I walked back into Carolyn’s house the front room was empty. I quickly made my way into the garage in a ploy to distance myself from the front door. If any of the jerkwads in the house even mentioned to Carl that I walked in the door shortly after his girlfriend, it could be trouble.
Strangely, the garage was void of people as well. I took the time to fill another red solo cup full of beer and while the golden grossness flowed out of the tap, I realized the sounds from the back of the house were somehow wrong. I could hear the partygoers talking, but the excitement level was higher than normal. A fight must have broken out. That was the only thing that explained the energetic voices and the fact that no one was at the keg.
Making my way back into the living room I found a group of excited guys around Nicole. They were doing their best to quickly usher her up the stairs. Everyone else was gathered into the room talking fast and either looking at Nicole, at the top of the stairs or comparing notes with each other. The only person who didn’t fit this model of behavior was Jackie. As I scanned the room, trying to figure out what was going on, I realized Jackie was staring at me. She then turned her head to Nicole who was disappearing up into the second story and quickly back to me. The surprise on her face set off alarm bells in my head. She knew something happened between Nicole and I! Oh god, I was a dead man.
Jackie quickly made her way around classmates in my direction. I thought she was going to confront me, but instead walked past me towards the kitchen and garage. At the last second she hooked a finger into my beltloop and gave a tug. The message was clear. Come with me. I turned and followed. She quickly walked through the entire house and down a back hallway towards the bathroom and bedrooms. Assuming I read her meaning incorrectly I stopped and the instant I did she spun on her heels and gave me a small head tilt, meaning “Come on!”
The oddness of this request hit me as I lumbered forward again. Jackie was miles out of my league. What was she doing? She stepped into a bathroom. When I hesitated, she grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me in after her. She shut the door and locked it.
“Well,” she said, hands on her hips. “You’re quite the daredevil, aren’t you?”
“I… don’t know what you mean.” I was only partially lying. I assumed she knew something about me kissing – or at least walking with – Nicole, but wasn’t certain.
“Purple isn’t your color.”
“What?”
Without answering, Jackie pulled a few squares of toilet paper off the roll, wet it in the sink and brought it up to my face. She rubbed somewhat vigorously over my mouth and held it back for me to see. The white paper showed a light purple smudge. It was Nicole’s lipstick.
My heart pounded and my forehead broken out in beads of sweat. I was dead. Carl would kill me. He might kill Nicole, too. Why did I kiss her? What the hell was I thinking? I closed my eyes and brought both hands to my head. My mouth opened, but I had nothing to say.
“Hey, relax,” Jackie said. “You’re really freaking out. Don’t worry. No one noticed but me.”
I opened my eyes and moved my hands enough to see her face. “What makes you think so?”
“I’m way more observant than other people. Also, everyone was distracted by what happened to Carl.”
“What?” I said. “Something happened to Carl?”
“Oh, that’s right. You weren’t here.” I swallowed. She was, of course, referring to when Nicole and I were outside kissing. “They say Carl slipped in the upstairs bathroom and smashed his face on the sink or toilet or something. I guess he got knocked out and is a bloody mess.”
Holy shit this was weird news, but I decided I was happy it happened. If Carl hadn’t distracted everyone with his injury I would be the bloody mess by now.
“Jackie, I’m begging you. Please, please keep this to yourself.”
She smiled and tilted her head a little, because she knew she had me. “Don’t worry,” she said, letting me off the hook. She raised her right hand as though she was swearing in at a court of law. “I promise to never ever repeat what I have seen.”
“Oh thank you!”
“But you owe me one,” she said with a bigger smile.
“Yes! Anything.”
“Okay. For now just give me a hug.”
This was a treat for me, not her, but I wasn’t going to argue. In spite of the relief I felt it was still wonderful to be pressed up against her body. Her finger nails lightly brushed against the side of my neck as we separated.
“Why don’t you go back to the party now,” she suggested, “and I’ll stay back in here for a few minutes.”
“Great idea.” I silently mouthed ‘Thank you’ again and slipped out into the hall. I immediately licked my lips and rubbed them with the inside of my white shirt. It didn’t show any additional color, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Instead of joining the rest of the partygoers, I walked straight out the front door, to the perc ponds, climbed on my bike and rode home.
Later I spoke to Quinn and Eric, who filled me in on all the juicy Carl Overfelt details. I told them I left early because I felt sick and didn’t want to throw up in front of everyone. It made me look a little pathetic, but these were my friends and they would only razz me about it for a few months.
The next week at school was great. Carl really looked like he got his ass kick, which I secretly enjoyed. He had two black eyes and a mile of white tape over his broken nose. That’s what he deserves for hitting Nicole.
Nicole and I had never spoken at school before and now we didn’t even look in the general direction of each other. All was good.
Finally, Friday came and went. Word that there was a party Saturday night spread quickly. Not just “a” party, but “a beach party” and those always seemed to be more fun. Hopefully Jackie was still in town and would attend. As always, it would be great to see her.
This party was south of Santa Cruz. Eric parked at the end of a line of cars belonging to Perrimon High students. Following directions that had been texted and re-texted over the last 24 hours, we looked for a rusty red Porsche Boxster that marked the trailhead to the beach. Without it, the path would have been hard to find among the trees, bushes, and tall grass. The trail was steep and a little muddy from rain a day earlier, making it extremely slippery. Pete and his buddies must have had a heck of a time getting the keg down to the sand.
Most of the uneven trail ran alongside a canyon that was twenty feet or so deep. If the ground was completely dry, it wasn’t much of a problem for sober people to navigate. However, fog and light rain often peppered the coast and therefore, the trail rarely dried out. Tonight was clear and relatively warm, but again, the trail was slick.
My feet started to slip out from under me more than once, but I managed to keep my balance. When we were about half way to the beach, Eric’s feet slid out from under him. He landed hard on his butt and did his best not to follow the his load of firewood to the bottom of the canyon. Of course Quinn and I found this to be extremely funny and insisted he crawl around in the dark to find every piece that rolled away from him.
“Kiss my ass,” he said, picking up the one log within reach and continued down the trial.
A quarter mile later the trees and mud gave way to sand.
A fire blazed a couple hundred yards away and familiar faces stood out in the orange light. As we approached I scanned the partygoers as best I could. Some were easy because the firelight shone on their faces. Others were more difficult since they were between me and the fire. Of course I was looking for Jackie. Also, I was please to not see the overgrown silhouette of Carl Overfelt. His absence meant that Nicole was also somewhere else, which suited me fine. She seemed very nice and if circumstances were different it would be great to get to know her better. But being as things were, we were both safer if we were miles apart.
We dropped our remaining wood in with the rest of the fuel about 20 feet from the blaze.
“Is that all you guys brought?” the party organizer Pete Tarragon asked, sounding disappointed.
“Eric lost his on the trail,” Quinn said to snickers and nods of understanding from others nearby.
Eric smirked, but said nothing.
Looking around, I found the stack of red plastic cups set up on a towel. My eyes adjusted and the mostly buried beer keg took shape. I picked up the end of the tube attached to it and poured myself a beer.
Taking a sip, I found that the beer tasted like… beer. Not good, but again it was something to do with everyone else. I talked and mingled and all the while had an eye out for Jackie. When at last I laid eyes on her, she was talking to Billy Owens again. She saw me staring and gave a slight smile. Billy didn’t seem to notice her attention had strayed. I turned back to my buddies, hoping that at some point during the evening Jackie and I would cross paths when Billy wasn’t around.
It was another half hour or so when I noticed him walking off towards the heavily treed hillside between the beach and the houses a half mile away. He probably had to relieve his bladder and it wouldn’t take long. Looking back towards the fire, I could see Jackie by herself. She was standing and brushing sand off of her jeans. There would never be a better opportunity. I quickly made my way around the fire and clusters of people until I stood in front of her.
“Hi Jackie!” I said, trying not to sound too excited.
“Oh hi Brandon,” she replied with a beautiful smile.
What should he say to her?
Just talk. That’s a wonderful start to any relationship. Go to Chapter 40.
Ask her to walk down the beach with him. Go to Chapter 8.
I decided to wait for everyone to fall asleep and then sneak out and move it.
Quinn and Eric both stayed and quickly passed out on couches. They really hit the sauce and acted crazy excited after thinking I somehow beat the shit out of Carl. Even Eric’s sober façade gave way to off balance jubilance. Maybe they were just happy I lived through such a confrontation.
I kicked off my shoes, grabbed one of the blankets Tom threw on the floor for all us crashers and tried to get comfortable on the loveseat, which was not easy since my feet hung off the side.
I lay there and listened. It took about 10 minutes for the talking to die away and another 10 before I heard snoring and regular breathing out of Quinn and Eric. I couldn’t hear the guys sleeping in the screen room, but I assumed they were also unconscious by now as well. Carolyn and Tom were upstairs. Even if they weren’t asleep yet, there was no way they could hear me leave.
Quietly, I sat up and put my shoes back on and looked around. Eric’s mouth was wide open. He practically snorted with each breath. Quinn was similarly out. I carefully made my way to the front door. Moss was on the couch in the entry room. His breathing came in regular, long intervals. He was also sleeping, but not as heavily as the others. Very carefully I turned the deadbolt and opened the door. Moss didn’t stir. I stepped out and closed it behind me.
I planned to come back so left the door unlocked, and there really wasn’t a good reason for it to be locked anyway. Drunk or not, seven guys scattered throughout the house are better security than a guard dog, assuming they didn’t all sleep through a potential burglary.
All the partygoers were long gone and the street was void of people. A crescent moon hung low in the sky, lighting my way as I left the sidewalks and streetlamps behind. The asphalt gave way to dirt, which gave way to weeds and dry grass as I walked down to the creek.
The bike was easier to see than I had expected and I was thankful that no one leaving the party earlier had passed by here and taken it. What to do now? I couldn’t take it to Carolyn’s. People would realize it was mine when I rode off the next morning. And yet I couldn’t ride it home now either. The only workable solution would be to hide it well enough that it would remain concealed once the sun rose and come back for it later.
Dragging my bike up out of the creek bed I paused to look about. The moonlight showed the landscape of ponds, shrubs, trees, and off in the distance, city lights. The safest option seemed to be a large drainage pipe that during rainstorms dumped into the creek. I rode a few hundred yards before descending back down the creek bank. It was harder to step from rock to rock while carrying a bike, but I managed to stay dry.
Once across the water my focus moved to the open maw of the drainpipe, which made me pause. It handled the runoff for an entire neighborhood and therefore was quite large, at least six feet in diameter, allowing me to walk far into it without ducking my head. But it was dark. No, not dark. Black. Completely black. While I was never afraid of such things, I did have an active imagination. Images of what might lurk in the inky blackness began crawling out of my subconscious, paralyzing me.
This was no good. I had to hide my bike and every moment I stood there made it harder. “There is nothing in there!,” I said aloud. Then, using the glow from my cell phone as a very weak flashlight, I summoned my courage and stepped forward.
It was completely dry and the walking was easy. Sediment gathered over time on the bottom of the pipe, forming an even floor on top of the corrugated surface. The ticking noise that the ten-speed made as it rolled along seemed exceptionally loud as it echoed off the walls of the metal tube. In spite of my careful steps, each footfall also echoed distinctly.
Every few seconds I had to tap my phone to keep the screen lit. Not that it did much good. I could see the pipe immediately around me and a few feet ahead. Beyond that was nothing but a black void.
I cursed myself for not having downloaded one of the many flashlight apps to my phone. My eyes remained wide open, anxiously peering into the darkness ahead. The fear of what was just beyond the dim circle of light stretched chilly tentacles throughout my body. Every sense alert, I continued onward.
I knew that younger teens sometimes hung out in the drain pipe during the day, and the sun illuminated the beginning of the tunnel. I needed to go deeper, until the pipe curved, preventing the bike from being discovered. I strained to see or hear anything unnatural around me. Several times I stopped and listened, only moving forward again when I was satisfied that there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Repeatedly glancing back time and again, the moonlit maw of the drainpipe grew smaller and smaller. Then, the pipe curved, leaving me in complete and total darkness except for the pale blue light from my phone. Looking down, I realized to my horror that the battery was nearly dead.
Why hadn’t I charged it last night? Damn my laziness!
My breathing increased as panic set in. Just a few more steps would be far enough. I marched forward with gusto now, making more noise, but needing this uncomfortable task to end.
A few more hurried steps and I dropped my bike, which clanged loudly against the side of the tube. Whatever. I was free to leave. Holding my phone out for one last look further into the tunnel, I was suddenly overcome with the thought that there was something nearby, and that thing hiding just out of my circle of light was not in front of me, but was instead right behind my back. My panic doubled and I swung around, expecting the pale glow of my phone to unveil something hideous. But of course, there was only darkness.
I almost laughed aloud. Slight embarrassment made my cheeks warm and I mentally kicked myself for being so foolish. I walked at a normal pace back toward the creek. Each step made a slight crunching sound in the gravelly dirt floor that I hadn’t noticed over the sound of the 10 speed earlier. I rounded the bend in the pipe and in the distance, to my relief, saw the opening. The moonlight illuminated the rocks along the creek.
I felt my blood pressure and the tightness in my chest dissipate. But I made it only a dozen steps before a tiny alarm bell went off in my head again. It whispered that something was wrong. Still feeling childish, I brushed it aside and plodded on toward the opening and the relief of fresh air.
A sound! I stopped and listened and clearly heard something. A scraping sound. A second later it stopped and then started again. It reminded me of metal dragging against metal. The scraping ended in a loud clang. After a long moment it came to me – a manhole cover! Something or someone opened and closed a manhole cover nearby!
I listened intently, but heard nothing more. My subconscious whispered again that I was in danger. As quickly and quietly as possible I moved toward the pipe opening at the creek.
Then the whisper in my mind became a scream as I realize that my footsteps no longer sounded right. Each one reverberated off the walls of the pipe more than it should and, it seemed, from the wrong direction. I stopped dead in my tracks and to my horror, the footsteps did not! Something or someone was in the pipe with me. My heart leaped into my throat and the steps instantly quickened. They were getting closer!
“Aaaahh!” I inadvertently yelled and ran with everything I had toward the creek. The sounds of my footfalls blended with those behind me and I couldn’t tell if it was gaining on me or not. Swinging my phone back behind me I glanced over my shoulder, but the bouncing weak light revealed nothing.
Exiting the pipe I stumbled over the rocks into the creek and somehow managed to keep my balance. Scrambling up the far bank I again ventured a look behind me. I saw nothing in pursuit, but my adrenaline carried me all the way back down the trail and across the road.
Once I reached suburban houses again I stopped and turned back to the creek and percs. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Panting and sweating, I jogged the rest of the way to Carolyn’s house. As badly as I wanted to go inside to be among other people, I remained on the front porch for nearly a half hour, waiting for my hands to stop shaking.
Finally I was steady enough to go in. I entered, shut the door and silently slid the deadbolt closed, careful not to wake anyone. I slipped past Moss, who hadn’t even changed position and made my way back to the loveseat. As I pulled the blanket over me two things came to mind. First, I no longer cared if my feet hung over the side of the couch. Second was that Eric and Quinn were no longer snoring and looked like they were dead. Listening carefully for a few seconds though proved that they were indeed alive. Both breathed regularly and it seemed to me, rather peacefully.
I suddenly felt exhausted and in spite of my questions and fear, fell asleep.
Unfortunately, my slumber was anything but peaceful. I dreamed that I was in Carolyn’s house alone. The windows were covered with the same corrugated steel that the pipe was made of. The house was dark, but I could plainly see that on the furniture sat corpses. They looked like Halloween props - heads motionlessly tilted back or awkwardly to the side. Many held drinks in bony hands or had cigarettes, long ago extinguished, between dried lips. The thing from the drain pipe was in the perfectly dark bathroom upstairs. I’m not sure how I knew it was there, but I was certain of it. I walked slowly to the base of the stairs and looked up. Instead of leading to a landing, they ascended all the way to the ceiling. And on the ceiling a few inches above the top stair, was a manhole cover.
The heavy metal disk moved a fraction, then scrapped noisily aside. The second story appeared to be in total darkness.
I woke to the sound of talking. Morning light filtered in through nearby windows. I stood up and looked around me, remembering that I was at Carolyn’s house. Everyone was awake except Eric, and he began to stir.
“Wake up, dude,” I said and gently kicked his foot, which hung off the side of the couch. He moaned in response.
“Hangover?”
“Yes. Get me some water.”
“Get your own water,” I said and walked into the kitchen where the others had gathered. Normally I would have gotten him a glass of water, knowing how miserable a bad hangover can be, but there was no way I was going to do it in front of all these people. I didn’t want to look like Eric’s ‘bitch’. In the kitchen, Carolyn, her boyfriend, Tom, and her best friend, Becky, sat at the table drinking coffee and talking.
As far as I knew, Becky didn’t spend the night here. She probably came over to help clean up. Moss and some of the other guys that stayed over apparently woke up before I did and had already left.
Quinn was in the kitchen, but naturally had a cup full of beer in his hand. Tony quietly leaned against the counter.
As they drank coffee, I observed Carolyn and Becky. They had been best friends since middle school, but were somewhat of an odd pair. Becky’s dark makeup around her eyes matched her dyed hair. Her clothes were generally darker colors and she usually wore black lace up boots. Carolyn, in contrast, had naturally red hair and dressed brightly.
To me coffee tasted worse than beer, which was why the coffee chains mixed it with milk, sugar and other stuff to hide the real flavor. It had become something the ‘in people’ drank though, so Carolyn made it look appealing. She had brewed a large pot in her parents’ coffee maker. The girls were the only ones who seemed to enjoy it. Tom appeared to force his down in little sips. I didn’t want beer or coffee.
Too bad Darren wasn’t here. He considered himself a real coffee aficionado.
I decline a cup and instead grabbed a glass of water.
“Quinn,” I said, taking a seat at the table. “How can you drink beer so early in the morning?”
“I don’t want it to go to waste,” he said. “They have to return the keg today.”
We rehashed the events from the night before, discussing who was really drunk, who looked hot, who spilled their drink, and who did things to embarrass themselves. Of course, the topic covered most thoroughly was the fight between me and Carl – well, that’s how people referred to it. All I really did was knee him in the balls, and I went over that in great detail. I wanted to be honest so I emphasized that Carl’s real wounds must have been self-inflicted. When he swept my feet out from under me, he must have lost his balance and smashed his face on something.
Finally people were starting to believe my version of events. It certainly made more sense than me pounding his face in. I figured I would lose my celebrity status once they knew the truth, but the consensus remained that I had really stepped up by trying to help Jackie, even if it was only with a somewhat shameful knee to the balls. Normally such a strike would have been viewed as underhanded and definitely not a manly way to fight, but since the odds were so heavily in Carl’s favor, I was given a pass.
From time to time during the conversation, a groan could be heard from the living room. Eric’s head was still pounding. Over time he asked everyone in the house for a glass of water -myself and Quinn multiple times.
“No. Get it yourself,” Quinn would say, and everyone would laugh.
Eventually we all drifted into the living room to watch the moaner. Once again he pleaded for water, and again and we all shot him down.
“You have legs. Get it yourself,” Carolyn said.
“Wheat! Be a pal. Get me some water,” he begged me.
Should Brandon get Eric some water?
Yes. Go to Chapter 29.
No. Go to Chapter 34.
Get him some Vodka and tell him it’s water. Go to Chapter 32.
“Go see what Eric and Moss are doing,” I said, trying to get rid of the extra loud pest.
“Why would I do that when I can stand here and look at sexykins over there.” He actually pointed at Jackie this time.
“Dude! You are so obvious! I’m begging you, go away.”
“Ohhhh, I see.” Now we was purposely being loud. “The girl you have been in love with since freshmen year is back and you want to stare at her all by yourself. Ha ha! Okay loverboy...” he paused to shore up his balance. “I’ll leave you to yers privacy.”
This was mortifying. Darren had just blurted out my most prized secret in front of everyone. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed, however. Darren was jerked violently around by the arm to face Billy, who had circled around the fire without either of us realizing. “No one wants ta hear yer opinion, asshole!” he spat with his southern drawl in Darren’s face.
Darren, caught off guard, had to again keep himself from falling. “Oh. I didn’t know you could hear me.”
“Everyone could hear you!”
“He’s just drunk,” I offered.
Billy pointed at me with his free hand. “No one’s talking to you, so shut the fuck up!”
Luckily for Darren and I, Pete Tarragon intervened and he carried some pretty good street cred. As party organizer, he likely wanted a mellow, fun evening without unnecessary drama. Billy kept hold of Darren’s arm while he and Pete bickered. I took the opportunity to back away from the circle of firelight and make my way over to Jackie. She was where she had been before, but was now standing.
I approached her slightly from behind and said in a low voice, “Jackie, can I talk to you for a minute away from everybody?” This would have normally been a ridiculously bold move for me, but in light of the events of a week earlier and the current fireside drama, it didn’t seem so bad. She nodded and we casually stepped out of the glow of the fire and headed down the beach towards the distant lights of Capitola.
We made small talk for a minute. My reason for pulling her aside was just to be with her, but I had to come up with something better than that.
“How are you doing after last weekend?” I asked.
“I’m okay. It was scary being blocked in the bathroom by that guy, but I’m not still freaked out or anything like that.”
“Good. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t still scared or anything.”
The moon sat low in the sky and filtered through a layer of fog some distance over the ocean, yet there was enough illumination for me to easily make out her features and expressions. I thought for a moment that she might laugh, but she saw me looking and appeared serious once again.
“Thank you, Brandon. That’s very sweet of you.”
I suddenly felt like an idiot. Nothing I did in that bathroom helped her in any way. She was saved by Carl’s clumsiness and now it was fairly plain that she knew that. I changed the subject to old teachers and students we knew when we sat together in 9th grade. It’s was a much better topic that I was happy to see we both enjoyed. The conversation was natural and flowed easily. In my mind it could have continued for hours had we not been interrupted.
I looked up and realized two sets of duel lights were moving towards us. “Ah crap,” I said. “The cops are coming to make sure no one has any fun. We should probably head back.”
“Oh! You’re right. I hadn’t noticed them.” She thought for a moment. “If we head back now, we’ll get to the group about the same time as the trucks. We should keep walking along the water’s edge and pretend we are here on our own.”
“That’s a pretty good idea.” No. It was a fantastic idea. It meant I could spend more time with her.
The trucks drew closer and Jackie had another wonderful idea. “We should hold hands while they go by. That way we’ll look like a boyfriend and girlfriend instead of partiers.” She grabbed my hand and my heart leapt. The trucks approached. One put a spotlight on us for a few seconds and then continued past.
“Hey! You’re plan worked.”
“Yeah, I guess it did.”
“Are you cold?” her hand was cool, but still felt good in mine.
“Um, yeah. A little.”
I regretted asking. Not because I let her wear my sweatshirt, but because it meant letting go of her hand to give it to her.
We watched the trucks stop at the bonfire. Everyone knew the drill. Once they were spotted, everyone would hide up in the trees and hope the sheriffs passed by. One or two people would stay by the fire and act as if no one else was with them. The keg was covered and buried and hopefully escaped detection.
Both trucks stopped near the fire and scanned the hillside with spotlights. Jackie and I realized something went wrong when one of the sheriffs announced over his megaphone that everyone was to leave immediately. The gig was up. We sat down and watched and waited. I put my arm around her to keep her warm – or so I said. Our conversation still flowed easily. Eric sent me a text asking where the hell I was. I told him I had a ride and he should take off without me. He also said that Billy figured out I walked off with Jackie and was super pissed off. I put my phone on silent.
After my classmates were long gone and the trucks continued their patrol, I walked Jackie back up the trail to her car.
“Where’s your car?” she asked.
The real answer was that I didn’t have a car, but that was too much information. “I got a ride here. Don’t worry, I’ll just call my cousin, who lives in Santa Cruz, and I’ll stay with him tonight.”
Happily, she wouldn’t have any of that and gave me a ride. She had a cool, old two-seater sports car that I didn’t recognize and it drove fast. I decided I was going to again go beyond my comfort zone and ask her for a date. Yes, she was still way out of my league, but these were weird times, proved by the fact that we held hands earlier. For most of the drive home I tried to figure out the best way to ask. Nothing particularly good came to mind, so when she pulled up in front of my house and I was out of time, I simply started talking.
“Jackie, I think I know the answer to this, but are you and Billy dating?”
“No.” she said with a smile, as though she thought that idea was funny.
“Good! Um, I mean.. Um, I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me next Friday.” I blurted it out. This was as good as I was going to do.
She smiled again, but it didn’t look like a ‘you said something funny’ smile, which was certainly good. “I’d like that,” she said.
“Great!” I said, a little too happy. “We can text and work out the details.”
We were both sitting in bucket seats with a set emergency brake between us, so I didn’t have very good access to her, but I raised an arm and leaned slightly towards her, signifying that I thought we should hug. We did and when we were done, she didn’t pull back right away. Her face was close to mine and I pushed the boundaries one more time, by slowly moving in for a kiss. I didn’t even really know what I was doing, but it worked out. We kissed for a full five seconds!
We said goodbye and I went into the house. True, Carl and now Billy wanted to kill me, but life was oh so good. The problem highest on my list was finding a car before next Friday.
Good ending. You kissed the girl and got a date. Sure, you’re going to get your ass seriously kicked sooner or later, but isn’t this better than cruising through life with no real highs or lows?
As I walked down to the creek I thought about last night’s experience in the drainage pipe. Now under a beautiful sun, it seemed crazy to be so afraid. The footsteps I heard must have either been lingering echoes of my own steps or something else that could be easily explained. The “manhole cover” that I heard probably could have been lots of other things. There just wasn’t any way a person would be down there running around in the pitch dark.
I had almost convinced myself of this when I came out of the shrubs along the creek bank, right in front of the gaping tube. In spite of the warmth of the day, a chill ran down my spine and gooseflesh rose on my arms.
Making my way from stone to stone across the flowing water, I reassured myself that the scare of last night was all in my head. Then I found myself standing at the mouth of the pipe, peering into the blackness. For a few minutes I looked and listened, wondering if I was seeing shapes deep in the dark or if it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.
Standing there was just making it worse. Realizing I either had to go now or walk home, I picked up a big rock in one hand and held my cell phone in the other, screwed up my courage and walked in the gaping hole. I moved steadily and as quietly as possible. As the darkness closed in, I pressed the button on the side of my phone. It miraculously still held a little battery life. The glow from the screen gave me just enough light to see the ground immediately in front of my feet.
The circle of sunlight behind me marking where the pipe ended at the creek got smaller and smaller as I continued deeper into the guts of metal tube. As it curved, all light vanished behind me. Fingers of fear once again reached up into my consciousness as I tapped my phone more often than necessary to keep the glow alive.
“Please hold out,” I whispered to the dying battery.
Finally a shape appeared in the void. Was it my bike tire? I stepped closer and made out spokes, but the rim was horribly bent. I took another step and found the entire bicycle had been wadded up into something not much bigger than a watermelon. I wasn’t even sure it was mine and looked quickly around for another bike.
Nothing else was visible in the pipe. The tentacles of horror that had been stretching across my psyche took full hold. I listened intently over my pounding heart for signs that I was not alone and scanned the darkness, my phone held out in front of me.
Nothing.
I wanted to run, but I had to see if this bike was really mine. Bringing the phone down close to it, I scrutinize details in the mangled remains of the pedals and seat. Sure enough, it was mine. Without hesitation, I abandoned the wreckage and sprinted toward the pinprick of daylight. Panic gripped me so thoroughly that I fell twice, tearing my jeans at the knees, but I didn’t realize I was bleeding until I was almost a mile away.
As I walked home I tried to apply logic to the unnatural experience in the drainage tube. How could my bike have been twisted up like that? Who or what could have done it?
Carl was the strongest person I knew, but not even he could twist metal like that with his bare hands. And how would he even know it was there? That didn’t make any sense either.
Or did it? Could it be that after getting injured at the party he went to the creek and waited there for some reason? It seemed farfetched, but not impossible. If that was the case then I was very lucky not to have had my face bashed in, or maybe something even worse. Maybe he really thought I somehow hurt him and he was actually a little afraid of me. That seemed ridiculous, too, but the last 24 hours were the craziest of my life, so this scenario fit right in.
Okay, if Carl was there and did see me hide my bike, then he could have also been responsible for the footsteps I heard. The thought of this reignited the chills which coursed through my body with a vengeance. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck once again stood on end. Had he gotten a hold of me at the creek or deep in the drainage pipe, I knew there was a chance that I wouldn’t have lived through it.
Carl being there seemed the most likely case. However, it still didn’t explain the condition of my bike.
I continued to work it through in my mind as I walked. By the time I got home, I decided that after I went back to the party, he took my bike home with him, used a vice, crowbar, sledgehammer, and his car to take out his aggression on it. Then he returned it to the pipe knowing I would eventually come back.
This thought didn’t make me feel much better. He could have easily decided to wait for me there and beat me into oblivion.
Monday I walked to History class with more than a little dread. It was the only class Nicole and I shared and being in the same room as her would just remind me of Saturday night. As I entered, she was already seated at her desk across the room, and she was looking at me. I quickly turned toward my chair and sat down, not risking eye contact. Thank God I didn’t sit near her. She was at the back left of the class and I was two rows up on the right side.
Mr. Henderson started class and babbled on about the Revolutionary War and possibly a few other things. Even if I had been in the mood to pay attention, which didn’t happen all that often, I wouldn’t have been able to. My mind jumped from the events of Saturday night to fear that Carl would kill me at lunch to a hundred other more mundane things.
Thankfully my desk was closer to the front of the room than Nicole’s because I couldn’t see her out of the corner of my eye. A few times I even forgot she was there, but then I would remember and involuntarily look in her direction. Each time I did she was looking back at me. At first I told myself that my timing was simply bad. She wasn’t actually staring at me. But the second time destroyed that delusion.
The look on her face was not a happy one. That was for certain. However, I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. It seemed to be serious, possibly a little sad … or mad. I couldn’t tell. In any event, it wasn’t good.
Maybe she was unhappy with me because she thought I beat her boyfriend up. Maybe she was trying to figure out how someone with so little muscle could have pulled that off. Or maybe she just didn’t like me. It was hard to say. Whatever it was, it made me uncomfortable. I looked back to Mr. Henderson and pretended to listen for the rest of the hour.
At lunch I walked into the main courtyard with my eyes scanning the student body. Fortunately, Carl was nowhere in sight. Eric, Quinn, and Darren were standing near our usual lunchtime hangout – a bench that surrounded one of the four trees in each corner of the yard. They were watching me. Noticeably missing was their happy, joking demeanor. Darren, who normally projected an air of unflappable confidence, looked downright scared. His shoulder-length black hair seemed unusually drab and tussled, as though he spent much of the morning running his hands through it. He stared hard at me through the John Lennon-style glasses that sat at the top of the bump on his nose.
“Hey guys,” I said, approaching them.
“Hey Wheat, good to see you still in one piece,” Eric said with a smile.
“Yeah, no shit,” I agreed. “Have you guys seen Carl today?”
“No.” Quinn answered for all three of them. Clearly they had compared notes on this topic before I arrived. “Hopefully he’s too embarrassed to show his face and will transfer schools,” he said with a wry smile.
“I don’t think I’m that lucky,” I replied.
“The hell you aren’t!” Eric said with annoyance. “First you survive – and actually win a fight with Carl Overfelt. Then Jackie Spears,” he said, putting emphasis on the name, “says you’re her hero and gives you the best hug you had in your life and fucking kisses you! You’re not lucky? Horseshit!
“And when are you going to tell us what really happened at that party?”
Eric was right. It was horseshit. I couldn’t have been luckier, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t in danger of having my face knocked inside out.
“Okay,” I gave in. “You’re right. I’ve been holding back, but I did it for Jackie.”
“Well tell us, man!” Eric demanded. “Aren’t we your best friends?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Just keep it to yourselves.” As they agree, I notice Moss with his back to me. He was sitting on the bench talking with a couple of other guys, but now all three had their mouths shut and leaned closer to hear what I was about to say.
“Okay, we were in the bathroom,” I began, “and Carl had Jackie cornered, so I turned off the lights and before he could do anything I started whaling on his face. He was so startled, I must have landed ten perfect punches before he even raised his hands to protect himself.
“He kinda stumbled back against the counter. That’s when Jackie accidentally touched me. The lights were still off and she was trying to make her way out of the bathroom.
“And this is the really amazing part.” Eric and Quinn’s eyes got even bigger and they leaned a little closer. “Fighting in the dark – it does something to you. I’m telling you, I was like and animal. I grabbed Jackie by the back of her hair and brought her in to me. I kissed her long and hard. And then… and then… I realized it wasn’t Jackie at all. It was Moss’s mom.”
“Hey Fuck You Man!!” Moss roared and charged me. We all started laughing as I hid behind Quinn. Even Darren’s serious look broke into a smile. Moss made a show of trying to get to me to give me a black eye – the honor of his mom was at stake, after all.
After a few seconds he quit chasing. I wondered if he would have pursued me longer had the events of the weekend not happened. I was still an unknown quantity, like a box labeled TNT. Maybe I was capable of doing great damage, or maybe I was just a box with big letters and nothing inside.
“That’s what you get for eavesdropping, Moss,” I said.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” he replied, calmer now that he had made his show for honor. “You just talk loud.”
This is good. The anxious mood was broken and we joked around like any other day. For a moment I forgot about the events of the weekend and just enjoyed myself. All was fine until a few minutes before the end of lunch. Moss was looking past me and his eyes grew wide.
“Don’t look now, but Carl is here, and he looks pissed!” he whispered and moved away.
Everyone looked towards Carl, but I fought the urge to turn around. “Is he coming this way?!” I asked, trying to keep the tension out of my voice.
“No,” Quinn replied, “but he’s looking over here and Moss is right. He ain’t happy. And, damn! What did you do to him? He looks like hell.”
Now this I couldn’t resist. I hadn’t actually seen him since the lights went out in the bathroom. Lots of people had explained in great detail what a red, bloody mess his face was as he came down the stairs that night, but that wasn’t the same as seeing with my own eyes.
Slowly, I turned and looked. Carl was standing in the middle of the school smoking section, arms at his sides with a burning cigarette between his fingers.
The smoking section was a joke. It consisted of yellow lines painted on the ground in one corner of the courtyard that formed a box of maybe 15’ x 15’ and contained a single bench and a small planter holding a shrub. It was the one place in the school where kids were allowed to smoke, provided that they were 18 years old. For whatever reason, the smoking age seemed to be the only policy the teachers and administrators routinely ignored. Each day the little area was packed with kids of all ages, sitting if they were lucky, or standing almost shoulder to shoulder, puffing away.
We called most of them stoners. It didn’t really have anything to do with whether or not they smoked marijuana – I knew plenty of guys that smoked weed but weren’t labeled as stoners. No, it was how they looked. They were more likely to wear worn blue jeans or leather that was slightly behind the fashion curb, and they generally wore their hair a little too long. Not all of them were outsiders though. Carl, for example, was a jock. He was the star offensive and defensive lineman on the football team, and also threw the shot-put farther than anyone in the school district. While most were there to be with their friends, Carl was just there to smoke.
Seeing him made me shudder involuntarily. Both of his eyes were black and much of his face was covered by the white tape that held his nose in place. In spite of how far away he was, even his lips appeared cut and swollen, somehow making his large round head look even bigger.
It wasn’t how he looked that sent a shudder through my body, it was something else. Carl seethed anger. Even from this distance it was incredibly clear. I had always been fearful of him and was thankful to be invisible and off his radar. He didn’t seem to know who I was or acknowledge that I existed. I felt safe in that anonymity.
Now that shield was gone. Much worse was that he absolutely wanted to cram his fist into my mouth and out the back of my head. I hadn’t ever seen anyone so full of rage while remaining so perfectly still.
After several seconds that felt like minutes, he suddenly jerked an arm upward. The cigarette burned down far enough to singe his fingers and his attention mercifully shifted away from me. It was only then that I realized Nicole had been with him all along. She had been standing next to and a step back from Carl. She too had been watching me, but cowered when Carl’s arm rose to release the cigarette butt. I hadn’t had time to gage her expression.
I turned away before he regained his composure and could lock eyes with me again. My heart pounded and I felt that my fear would spill into my voice. However, once again luck was with me. A loud beep over the speaker system signaled the end of lunch. I was never so eager to go to class.
The next day, Tuesday, was brutally long. All day I looked over my shoulder, expecting Carl to catch me in the hall and break a few bones or stuff me into a locker. I imagined trying to land a punch squarely on his nose, but knew that it would likely just send him into a rage. Mercifully the only time I saw him was at lunch. He glared at me from the smoking section as I tried to hide behind my friends, all the while trying to pretend I was not hiding. It was tedious work and again I looked forward to lunch ending.
In History, Nicole had stopped staring at me. As far as I could tell, she didn’t look in my direction a single time. Even when class ended and we walked out almost next to each other, she didn’t so much as glance my way. I was sure she hated me.
As the week went on, it seemed less and less likely that I would die at Carl’s hands. At least not until his nose healed. His waiting to heal was the only possible explanation for my continued good health. It just seemed too outlandish that he might actually fear me. That was impossible, even laughable. He obviously was concerned about his nose setting properly – that had to be why I was still alive. Carl had a hot girlfriend, no doubt, but he didn’t get her with his pretty face. No way. He must have been worried about retaining what little he had in the looks department.
I googled and learned that it can take two weeks for a broken nose to stop hurting and two months to fully heal. Fantastic. My life had been extended for two months.
Finally, Friday came and went. That was great, because I didn’t have to see Carl at school for two days. However, I had a huge decision to make. A party was in the works for Saturday night. Not just “a” party, but “a beach party” and those always seemed to be more fun. Hopefully Jackie was still in town and would attend the party. I badly wanted to go, but I also badly wanted to avoid Carl. What if he was there? Things could get really ugly for me.
What should Brandon do?
Roll the dice. Go to the party. Go to chapter 12.
Keep his face intact. Do anything other than go to the party. Chapter 23.
“Come on, man,” I said, surprising myself that some of the angst I felt leaked into my voice. “Help us move the wood.”
He opened his mouth to reject my proposal, but now it was Jackie’s turn to speak quickly and decide what would be done. “Good idea, Brandon. Billy and I will be happy to help.”
“Great!” I said, a little too happily.
Billy’s face changed to mild shock immediately followed by annoyance. He closed his mouth and trudged off with us to the wood pile.
“Load me up, Jackie,” I said and put my forearms out with my palms up. She immediately began placing logs across them. Billy went about picking up wood as though Jackie and I interacting didn’t bother him, but I imagined he was plenty irked.
Nearby, Pete and a few other guys were busy concealing the keg. One pulled the tap and the others covered the top of the large silver canister with towels. They then began pushing sand over it all.
“How’s that?” Jackie asked me.
The pile in my arms was heavy, that’s how it was. But I wasn’t going to let her know. “One more.”
She grabbed one of the fatter logs and placed it on top of the others.
“Great, thanks,” I said and started toward the bushes. They were only about 100 yards away, but if I waited for Jackie to grab a few pieces, I would never make it. Better to leave her and Billy alone than to drop my wood and look weak in front of her. Such a display might also break the recently invented myth that I was a bad-ass.
Other people were still running about and hiding things. I made it off the sand and among the trees. Then I found a few dense bushes and dropped my load of wood behind them. I really should have brought them a little further back, but my arms were aching and I was starting to breath heavily. Sometimes the trucks stopped and the sheriffs got out to search an area with flashlights. If they found the firewood, they would realize more people were about.
I turned around to get a second load. The trucks were closer, but still a ways off. I slowly walked back towards the woodpile by the fire as each of my steps sank into the soft sand. I looked about but couldn’t see Jackie or Billy.
The pile was much smaller now. Nearby Pete and two other guys were on their hands and knees evening out the sand that completely covered the keg. I got an armful of wood and looked back to the trucks. They were much closer now and each swept the beach and nearby woods with a spotlight.
“Hurry you guys!” I said to those still near the keg, “They’re going to see us!”
As always, Pete was prepared for every contingency. “You take the wood and hide. They’ve already seen the fire and it will look weird if no one is with it. I’ll convince them it’s just Becky and I and they’ll be on their way. If they know we’re having a party, they’ll never leave. Now get up there and tell them that I’m going to kill anyone that shows their face!”
Becky and Carolyn Pessero were nearby. Becky nervously fingered her e-cig as Carolyn said goodbye and ran towards the trees.
I nodded and ran with what wood I had. Huffing and puffing I sprinted up into a tangle of small eucalyptus and low shrubs. I dumped the wood and climbed the hillside until I was sure no one on the beach could possible see me, spotlight or not. Sitting on a large rock, I tried to catch my breath.
Around me in every direction whispers and quiet talking floated about. The combination of tall and medium trees blocked the sky. As my eyes adjusted I could make out the shapes of some of my classmates in their hiding spots.
I listened, and caught a few words here and there, but really couldn’t understand conversations or figure out who was doing the whispering. A hand touched my upper arm, making me jump.
“Sorry,” a familiar voice said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She had approached without so much as snapping a twig or rustling a leaf. I moved closer to try and make out her features.
“Jackie?”
“Yes. It’s me,” she whispered.
“I didn’t even hear you. Don’t worry, you only gave me a mild heart attack.”
She giggled and grabbed my hand. “Come with me. I have a better spot to hide.”
Better? Mine was totally concealed from the beach. I doubted her words, but I would have followed her right out into the ocean if I meant I could keep holding her hand.
She led me off to one side. While passing through a few narrow breaks in the foliage we had to let go of each other. Like a boy with a schoolyard crush – which is exactly what I was – I hoped she would grab my hand again once we passed the obstacles.
She did not, but turned uphill for another fifty yards. I followed until she approached a group of redwood trees. Several had grown together at the base and together they formed a ring. This was a fairly common phenomenon. It occurred when a large tree grows old and dies. It falls and eventually rots away, but not until dropping seeds around its base for decades or even centuries. The result is a circle of trees surrounding the spot where the parent tree once stood.
Jackie stepped up where the bases of two trees had grown together and then down inside the circle. I followed and descended onto a soft bed of fallen Redwood needles.
This was amazing. We were standing at least a foot below the surrounding area and it was flat instead of slanted along with the hillside. The growth of the tree roots then raised the base walls of the tree ring another three or four feet. It was indeed more secluded than my old spot.
Jackie stood near the middle of the small clearing. I was surprised to find that Billy was not there. Then I looked around at our new hiding place. Even in the dark it was really something to see. The trees stretched high above us. A small piece of sky in the center of the ring was specked by stars. “This is incredible!” I said and turned to face her. “How did you find it?”
“I just ran up the hill after hiding the wood I was carrying and just came across it.”
“Wow,” was all I could think to say.
“We should sit down,” she said. “They have strong spotlights.” Jackie gently grasped my arm and guided me to sit by her with our backs against one of the trees.
I was now alone in the dark with Jackie. Not only that, but she had purposely led me to a secluded spot. I couldn’t even hear the murmurs of the others just down the hillside. I felt special that she would bring me here. And yet I was also confused.
“Jackie,” I began, “where is Billy?”
“I have no idea. I ran and ditched the firewood I was carrying and after hiding it in some bushes, looked around and didn’t have any idea where either of you were. He must be in the woods somewhere.”
That made enough sense. It was very dark once you were a few paces inside the tree-line. She probably looked around and saw silhouettes, but couldn’t make out who was who. This brought another question immediately to mind.
“How did you find me?”
“I saw you run back out to the fire. When you came back I watched you hide the wood and headed in your direction, but you ran up the hill too quickly. I lost you in the dark, so just went in the same direction. It took a few minutes, but I found you!” The starlight from the tiny patch of sky was just enough to let me see her beautiful face. She ended her sentence with a smile that showed that finding me genuinely made her happy. Or at least that’s how I read it.
We talked quietly for another few minutes. The things I said probably weren’t all that funny, but she giggled twice anyway, which was nice. I was thrilled with how well were getting along, and then without warning my brain had to go and remember Billy again.
At the party last weekend, Jackie and I shared a moment – even if it was built on weird happenings and false pretenses as to exactly what I did and did not do to Carl Overfelt - it was still a moment. Billy kind of horned in on it by walking her out to her car, but I really couldn’t get too bent out of shape about that. Jackie and I weren’t dating, after all.
Down at the fire, I was fairly sure she wasn’t dating Billy either, but his McDonald’s comment made it seem possible.
And now I needed to know. We were definitely getting cozier than we should if she was in the middle of a date with someone else – even if that someone else was Billy Owens.
During a lull in the conversation I said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she replied.
“You’re here with Billy, right? He took you to McDonalds and then drove you to the bonfire. He probably thinks that’s a date.” This is where my brain told me I should stop talking. Going further would mean letting her know what I was thinking and feeling which in turn opened me up to disappointment when I learned she didn’t feel the same way. It would be easier and less painful to just keep it to myself. Sure, I would still be disappointed when she didn’t throw herself at me and later start dating someone else, but it would be my own private pain. If she knew and then rejected me, the pangs of hurt would go much deeper.
My brain told me to stay in the safe zone. And I would have, except that I had been way out of it for the last week, and it seemed to be getting familiar. Approaching Jackie at the fire was another step away from safety and that worked out better than expected. I decided to roll the dice one more time.
“Look Jackie, I like you and want to be with you, but I don’t want to mess up someone else’s date. I already feel like I was stepping on his toes by asking you to fill my arms with wood.”
Even as I spoke I took in the features of her face; from her perfect lips to deep serene eyes, she was gorgeous. I knew I might never be this close to her again and wanted to remember everything about it.
For a moment she was silent. Then she said, “First of all, McDonalds isn’t a date. Secondly, we didn’t go to McDonalds. In fact, we didn’t even drive here together.”
“You didn’t?” Now I was confused.
“No. I was visiting a friend in Santa Cruz and drove straight here afterwards. Billy was standing on the sidewalk when I drove up. I think he was waiting for me. He was eating a burger and had a bag of French fries. He offered me some, but I wasn’t hungry, so I ate one fry just to be polite. Does that sound like a date to you?”
“No it doesn’t.” I attempted to stay cool and not act overjoyed by the good news.
“I’m glad you’re not on a date,” I said with a big grin.
“Me too,” she said. “Well, at least not with him.”
“Oh? Who then?”
Immediately after asking, I kicked myself. It couldn’t be me. As crazy as life was becoming, she was still on a level far above my stomping grounds. Therefore, any name that came out of her mouth would be bad news and instantly put an end to this amazing moment we were sharing. I wanted it to last as long as possible and asking such dumb questions was not helping.
“Oh, I have someone in mind,” she said coyly, “but I’m not going to tell.”
I smiled – partially because her attitude was cute and partially because she didn’t name anyone else. I really expected her to start telling me about some dreamy football player or college boy. As far as I was concerned, she could have anyone she wanted, which made it all the more fantastic that I was here with her. You never know what life will send your way, I guess.
Suddenly the hillside below us came alive with hushed, urgent voices. “They’re here!” “Be quiet!” “Stay out of sight!” floated about. And then there was silence. The trucks had arrived.
Far off voices floated up from the beach – not hushed, but normal volume. It was undoubtedly Pete wagging that silver tongue of his.
The sheriff’s department drove down the beaches almost every Friday and Saturday night. Once in a while we got lucky when they were busy with actual crime and the trucks didn’t appear. Clearly their goal was to keep kids from having any fun. I had no idea why they cared. We cleaned up out mess and let the fire burn down in the middle of a well-marked ring. No one would accidentally step on hot coals the next day if they had any sense about them.
In any regard, our hopes of returning to the beach rested on Pete.
After a minute the talking stopped. All was quiet for a few seconds and then a bright light momentarily illuminated the trees around us. They were sweeping the hillside with their spotlights.
The beam came back and stopped on our circle of redwoods. I quietly put my arm around Jackie’s shoulders and drew her close. She came willingly and rested her head between my neck and chest. My god, even her hair smelled good.
I wondered if the sheriffs had seen something up here. Jackie and I were well below the angle of the light and could not possibly be in view, but maybe one of the morons I went to school with was nearby and poorly hidden. Within a few seconds though, the lights disappeared. There was more talking down on the beach and then I thought I heard the truck doors shut. I strained to hear more. Then Jackie said, “They’re driving away.”
“I think I heard them get back into their trucks,” I said, “but I can’t tell if they drove off. I’m not sure if I am hearing their engines or the ocean.”
“I’m pretty sure they drove away,” she said, but her tone said that she knew it to be a fact, not a possibility. “We should probably stay here for a little while longer just to be sure.”
I liked the sound of that.
“Good idea,” I said.
Now I had only kissed three girls in my life. Two of them were on the same night in seventh grade during a game of spin the bottle. My little brother, who was in fifth grade at the time was best friends with the little brother of a girl who was my age and lived down the block. For some reason that I no longer remember, they were both at my house along with one of the sister’s girlfriends. We all ended up in my bedroom while my mom was out in the family room watching TV. I suppose she figured there couldn’t possibly be any funny business with two fifth graders in the room along with us.
This actually seems like pretty sound logic to me, but somehow a game of spin the bottle broke out anyway. Yes, all five of us were involved which made it a little weird. We had a few rules – like the brother and sister didn’t have to kiss each other if the bottle were to spin and stop with the ends pointing at them. Also, boys didn’t have to kiss each other and the girls didn’t have to kiss each other.
With that settled, we spun the plastic 7-Up bottle. I ended up giving a peck on the lips to both girls, which made me very happy. My little brother kissed one of them as well, which just seemed weird to me – and probably to the girl too – since the difference in height and maturity between fifth and seventh graders can be quite substantial.
This event left me feeling like I might actually grow into some sort of ladies’ man. However, it would be another three years before I would again feel another’s soft lips upon my own. It was in 10th grade and my much cooler friend Ted, who since moved out of state, set me up with one of his girlfriend’s friends, whose name was Judy.
Our first meeting, which was at Ted’s house while his parents were at work, started off quite badly. I was so shy that it took a great deal of effort on my part to even participate in conversations. Ted had to make up a reason to call me into another room, so he could berate me for being such a chicken-shit dumb-ass. “Kiss her you idiot!” he ordered.
Well, I did kiss her. Luckily Judy was willing and we made out for a good 15 minutes. I felt fantastic afterward for two reasons. 1) I had made out with a girl, and 2) I didn’t totally blow it and prove I was the full doofus I had always suspected myself to be – just a partial doofus. There was just an inkling that maybe I could amount to slightly more than that.
Judy and I were supposedly dating now. We did talk on the phone every night for about a week, but because she went to a different school and I had no car and no money, we only saw each other one other time. I took three different buses to go see her. It was at this meeting where she told me it was not going to work out and we were no longer dating.
Such is life.
Although I felt that I had achieved an early start in seventh grade, my overall experience with kissing and with females in general was very limited. I had no way of knowing if and when I should kiss a girl. Yet Jackie did something that although I had never seen it before, seemed like an invitation. She sat up, taking her head off my chest, but stayed close. She looked up into my eyes and said, “I know those were sheriffs down there and they wouldn’t hurt us, but it was a little bit scary when they shined the light up here, and you made me feel safe.”
Jackie stopped talking, but her face was close to mine and she remained for a few moments looking up into my eyes. The most natural thing in the world for me to do now was to kiss her. It was so natural that my brain didn’t even raise an alarm. I brought my head down and saw her eyes close just before mine. Pressing my lips gently against hers I kissed her a single time.
I pulled back momentarily to see her reaction. She opened her eyes and they told me to do it again. I did. We kissed softly at first, then deeper. I didn’t have much to compare it to, but I was certain she was the best kisser in the world.
You did it! You found the best possible ending (although there are other cool endings). The real goal was to hook up with Jackie and you’ve done that, you bad-ass.
What about the other weird shit that happened earlier, like the bike being wadded up, the sounds in the drainage tunnel or what really happened to Carl’s face? Well, the story line you followed to get here is actually the first few chapters of a book called The Girl I Knew. Things get a lot stranger and wilder after that first kiss. You can get it here. https://www.amazon.com/Girl-I-Knew-John-Alexander/dp/1511758759/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1499147087&sr=8-1&keywords=the+girl+i+knew
My shyness usually overrode any desires my heart held and tonight would have been no different except that Jackie Spears had been the girl of my dreams throughout high school. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in several years. She was still number one in my mind by a mile. For all I knew she could be in town for the weekend and then I’d never see her again. If I was ever going to speak to her and avoid a lifetime of regret, it had to be now. If I waited a minute or an hour longer, I knew I would lose my nerve.
As I re-entered the screen room Ron and Clancy were positioned to see me. Clancy opened his mouth, undoubted to sling a smartass arrow my way regarding my quick return, but stopped, jaw silently open when I walked past the group. I tried to think fast as I approached Jackie. She was in a group with Carolyn, a heavily made up girl named Becky, Donna Moyer and two of the more popular guys from school.
I should have thought this out before charging back in here. It’s social suicide to blunder up to a pretty girl without something to say. But it was too late. I stepped up to the group. Jackie and the others turned to as I approached and of course I was staring directly at Jackie. The muscles throughout my body slightly contracted as panic set in, making my fingers audibly crease the plastic cup of disgusting beer in my hand. That tiny sound triggered and idea and as I naturally stopped my forward progress I turned to Carolyn and asked, “What kind of beer is this? I can win $5 if it’s Blue Moon.”
She and several others in the group looked annoyed. “Coors Light,” she said flatly.
Right. The primary shitty watered down beer for people in their teens and early twenties.
“Oh, rats,” I said, ignoring the eye roll. “Oh hi Jackie!”
Becky looked neither happy or unhappy that I broke into their conversation. Don Buzjack didn’t look unhappy either. He looked, as his name implied, happily buzzed. The only one who appeared to be responding positively to my appearance was Jackie. She wore a soft, sweet smile. “Hi Brandon,” she said.
“Did you move back to California?” I asked.
Unfortunately she was not able to respond. The unhappy male in the group, Billy Owens, spoke first. “We’re in the middle of a conversation. Jackie was saying something and you rudely butted in.”
“Oh, that’s okay-” she started to say, but Billy wasn’t finished.
“No Jackie. I’m from the south and my mama taught me to not let jerks cut a girl off mid sentence. You need to step on back, pal.”
“Hey, I wasn’t trying to cause trouble-”
“Too late!” Billy stepped forward. I was caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. Compared to me his was a little bigger, way more athletic and worse of all, better looking. My friends would break things up if I started getting badly beat up, but until that time I had to deal with Billy myself.
Luckily, Buzjack, spoke up. “Come on Mr. Owens,” he said to Billy in his jokingly semi-formal vernacular. He almost always addressed people, even children, by their last name preceded by Mr., Mrs., Boss, or Master, as he felt applied to the situation. It was a curious way to talk and when he drank he seemed to mix in a bit of an Irish accent. “You’re killin me buzz.”
“It ain’t my fault!” Billy looked sideways at his friend. I noticed Jackie had used the distraction to step away and make her way back into the main house. “He brought it on himself.”
“Okay!” I said with my hands up in front of me. “I’m going.” Without giving him a chance to say more, I turned and tried to walk as smoothly as possible out of the room. All eyes were on me and I was well aware that I looked weak. My only bright spot was that Jackie left the room before me and didn’t see my total wuss out. She would undoubted hear all about it later though.
I looked for her when I walked back in the house, but she was nowhere in sight. I then checked over my shoulder to make sure Billy wasn’t following and was pleased to see he wasn’t. She wasn’t in the kitchen or the garage so I made my way to the front room. It was empty except for one person. Nicole Johnson was in the process of getting up from the floor. My entrance startled her and she snapped a look in my direction. It was clear she had been crying and a drop of blood showed under one nostril.
Nicole’s boyfriend, Carl, was easily the biggest, meanest and strongest guy in school. Even if someone was inclined to do so, no one would dare do anything to make her cry because the wrath of Carl would be swift and horribly painful. No one that is, except Carl. There were rumors that he slapped Nicole around from time to time although I had never witnessed it.
Without a word she wiped her eyes and quickly left through the front door. I stood there wondering what to do.
She looked like she needed help, but in no way did I want to get in the middle of her and Carl. And yet the idea of doing nothing seemed revolting. No one was in the room with me, so I stepped outside. She was near the street and upon hearing the door open began walking down the sidewalk away from the house. I had hoped to find that she was not alone – that a friend or even a guilty feeling Carl might be comforting her. In spite of my desire to avoid drama, I went after her.
It was an easy jog to catch up to her because she walked slowly while dabbing at her nose. I fell in beside her and didn’t say anything at first. She glanced to see who it was and then brought her eyes down again to the sidewalk before her. We rounded a corner, putting us out of eyeshot from Carolyn’s house and reducing my anxiety.
Finally I asked, “Are you ok.”
“Yes,” she said in a manner that was meant to project irritation, because she knew if we were seen together Carl would be angry with us both. But the word ended in a high, sad pitch.
“That’s good,” I said although we both knew I didn’t believe her. Changing the subject away from the obvious situation seemed like a good idea, since it was something I couldn’t fix. I hoped just talking might make her feel better. “I made the mistake of interrupting a Billy Owens conversation and thought he was going to punch me. Ha ha.”
Nicole sniffed and said nothing.
“That southern boy has a bit of a temper.” I regretted bringing up ‘temper’ as soon as I said it, since her boyfriend had a notorious angry streak, but she added on.
“He’s not the only one,” she said. “Why do guys get so upset?”
Good question, I thought. Overall I felt that it was easy not to overact and get angry, but there were plenty of dudes that had issues. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because guys are just kinda dumb.”
That caught her as funny and she made a small noise in spite of herself. This was a good subject. “We also lack in self control. Why do you think they have recess in elementary school and an extra break between 2nd and 3rd periods at high school? Guys can’t pay attention for more than two hours at a time. I think we’re a lot closer to monkeys than people.”
She laughed again.
“Why do you girls put up with us?”
“What choice do we have?”
“If I was a girl…” I paused as though I was deep in thought. “I’d bat from the other side of the plate.”
“What?”
“I’d be a taco tickler.” I normally wasn’t so crude, but gambled that it would add levity.
“Huh?”
“You know, a carpet muncher.”
Nicole took my meaning and laughed out loud this time. “I wondered what the hell you were talking about.”
“Well it makes sense right? Girls are prettier, they don’t smell bad, their hands and feet aren’t all big and gross and we guys act about 10 years younger than we actually are. I really have no idea why girls are into us at all.”
Nicole noticeably exhaled and it seemed to deflate more than just her lungs. “Sometimes I don’t know either, she said.”
We turned another corner, arriving in front of a house covered by a dull red and blue striped tent. “Termites,” I said. There were no lights coming from the house, of course, and large tree cast a deep shadow over Nicole and I. We stopped walking and looked at the house.
After a short silence I asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes… no… I mean, I don’t know.” I turned and faced her. She turned towards me, keeping her eyes down. “Sometimes I feel trapped.”
“I guess you can’t just break up with Carl, huh?”
Her head snapped up to look straight at me. She was almost my height with long black locks. “Oh, no. He would kill me.”
There was genuine fear in her face and in her voice. She once again looked to the ground and gave a small chuckle, this time out of embarrassment. We were silent again, but this time our bodies were facing each other and we were so close. It was not a comfortable silence. I felt as though I should be nice to her in some way. I raised a hand and softly stroked her arm. She instantly responded with a slight quick inhale and a barely perceivable tremor throughout her entire body – not exactly positive, but it didn’t look like repulsion either. I think Nicole was not used to being touched out of kindness. Her eyes glanced up to mine and quickly back down again.
“I’m sorry,” I said, removing my hand. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Now there was a tinge of fear in my voice that I worked to suppress. If she told Carl that I touched her, or really even that I walked with her, I was a dead man. It dawned on me that I was really taking chances here. He once broke a classmate’s jaw for simply making a poorly chosen wisecrack about Carl’s possible rough treatment of women. My punishment would be much worse.
“Wait!” she said, looking into my eyes again. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
That made sense. Carl would also be furious with her whether or not she had any control over the events of our walk. She would definitely keep it to herself.
Nicole put her hands on my chest and held eye contact. Her breathing was inaudible, but the slight rise and fall of her chest quickened. In spite of my inexperience with women, I was pretty sure she wanted me to kiss her.
What should Brandon do?
Kissing Nicole is asking for trouble. Do anything but that. Go to Chapter 22.
There is no way she will tell anyone, because she would be in huge trouble as well. Also, Carl is a dick. Give Nicole a kiss. Go to Chapter 24.
“OK, let’s go get a beer,” I said. Mine was still practically full and my real intention was to get him a little further away from Jackie’s ears. He knew I had dreamed about her since 9th grade and I was scared to death his boozy brain would stumble on this fact and immediately kick it out of his mouth at full volume.
I topped my beer off and handed the tap to Darren. “Hey man,” I said. “You were going to stay semi-sober and keep an eye out for Carl. If he shows up and I don’t see him in time, I’m dead. He’ll probably throw me in the fire.”
A flash of fear crossed his face at the sound of Carl’s name. Then it was gone.
“I am only semi-sober,” he replied, not realizing that what he said didn’t quite make sense.
“You seem pretty drunk to me.”
“Well professor,” he started and then paused to catch his balance. “We clearly havz a disagreement on what the word ‘semi’ means.”
“Oh really,” I said incredulously.
“Yes,” he continued. “For exsample: the first time you, Brandon Wheatley, are naked with a woman, she will laugh at you because you can’t give a full salute, only a semi.”
To this Darren roared with laughter. The fact that he was laughing so hard actually made his joke a little funny. The people around us turned their attention to the comical drunk. After almost a minute, he calmed down enough to add, “and then I will come in and show her what a real man is with my super-hard side of beef.”
“Yeah, too bad you have to think of Justin Timberlake to get it that way,” I said.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” He replied in mock anger as the others around us laughed. He raised his hand – pretending he was going to hit me – and spilled almost his entire beer onto the sand. “Aaaaahhhh!”
While he refilled his cup I took the opportunity to slink away. Moving out of the circle of light cast by the fire, I walked around to the opposite side of the flames. Naturally I scanned the crowd. Yes, I had an eye out for Carl, but my main interest was Jackie. I found her in the same place she was before. She was standing up, brushing sand off her jeans and miraculously was by herself.
I couldn’t believe Billy left her side. The guy clung to Jackie like a starfish holding onto a big rock. Quickly looking about I spotted him trudging off towards the tree covered hillside. ‘Full bladder,’ I thought. She was by herself and no one else had noticed yet. If I was going to talk to her tonight, it had to be now.
My feet shuffled forward while the logical part of my mind shouted that this was a bad idea. ‘You have no idea what to say to her,’ it said. ‘The smart thing to do would be to take a few minutes and plan it out. Think of something witty. Don’t just walk up to her. You’ll say something dumb!’
My feet nearly stopped because the brain was right, but at the same time it was also full of crap. Listening to it for most of my life had kept me relatively safe from hurt and humiliation, but it never led to anything particularly good. The events of the party last week made people think differently about me although I more or less still felt the same as always.
Suddenly it dawned on me that I was a little different. Something had changed inside me that night. It wasn’t a big change, but it was enough to keep me moving toward Jackie. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her.
She knocked the last of the sand off her pants and looked up to see me. “Hi,” she said in a pleasantly surprised tone.
“Hi,” I said back.
OK, good start. Now what? At this point my brain realized it had not prevented this meeting with all its dire potential, and quickly switched to conversation mode. Finding nothing witty laying around in the dark corners of me head, it tried a delaying tactic. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Jackie said, smiling a little bigger. “How are you?”
“Oh, ya know…I’m good,” I replied. “My friend Darren is pretty drunk though.”
Yes! I thought of something to say. As pathetic as the conversation was, it was going far better than I had anticipated.
“Yeah, I can tell,” she said with a little laugh. “I hope he’s not driving.”
“Ha ha no way,” I said. “Eric Walton will drive him home. I just hope Darren doesn’t fall asleep on the beach before we leave. When we wake him up he’ll be out of it and really hard to get back up the hill to the car.”
Before she could respond, Billy returned.
‘How quickly does this guy pee?’ I wondered. It seemed like he had been gone less than a minute.
“Hey thar, Brandon,” he said. There was no malice in his voice, but no joy either. He obviously wished I was talking to anyone but Jackie.
“Hey Billy,” I replied, trying to keep a little happiness in my demeanor as I spoke. “How’s it going?”
“Real good,” he said. “Jackie and I had some McDonalds earlier. I guess I had ta pee after drinking dat big coke.”
Jeez guys are dumb. His point was to tell me that he and Jackie came here together and had eaten together before hand, but even I knew better than to mix it with a story about taking a squirt. I guess most people would also mock him for taking such a beautiful girl out to fast food, but the truth was my wallet couldn’t have done any better.
Before I could reply – and who knows what I would have said – I heard Tony Choi voice something that was quickly repeated by several other guys.
“The trucks!”
I looked down the beach. Sure enough, four dots of light in the far distance were slowly making their way in our direction.
Pete immediately started shouting directions. “You know the drill, people! Grab your stuff and get out of sight. And we need help carrying the wood!”
Everyone went into action. Blankets and other belongings were snatched up and carried away.
I looked back to Jackie. Billy made sure he spoke before she or I had a chance. “I guess we betta hide,” he said and reached for her hand.
This annoyed me. I was pretty sure they were not dating and I also felt comfortable in my thinking that they had never even kissed. Yet here Billy was, monopolizing access to her.
I had to admit it was well played though. By speaking first he laid out a course of action that would keep him and Jackie together for the immediate future. Then he grabbed her hand, making it clear that he would be the one guiding her along that course and blocking me out in the process. It was bold and mildly clever and naturally got under my skin.
He was bigger, stronger, better looking and more athletic than I was, but for some reason I found it less daunting than I would have a week earlier.
If Brandon ever wants to ever get anything going with Jackie, this might be the time to do something. But what?
Tell them that you will go with them. Go to Chapter 7.
Ask them to help you carry firewood off of the beach. Go to Chapter 36.
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