Sitting across the aisle from us, Charlie just stared out the window with her forehead smashed up against the glass.
“What the hell did you do to her?” Joey whispered to me.
“I didn’t do shit,” I whispered back.
Pursing his lips at me, he hissed, “Maybe that’s the problem.”
I shook my head, not wanting to share what I saw in the dressing room. I was taking that moment to the grave, and dying a happy man.
After the bus dropped us off, we went straight to Joey’s house, where Charlie showed Joey’s mom, Mrs. Graley, her dress. Both of them giggled and squealed like five-year-old kids as soon as the dress was out of the bag. While Mrs. Graley fixed us some dinner, she made Charlie try it on and walk around the room, bending every which way and pretending to dance around.
I was getting myself sick.Why the hell was she still going to go to the dance with Mason? I didn’t understand girls; I mean, didn’t we almost kiss?
Joey and I sat around the dining room table and watched the spectacle. Waiting for the girly crap to stop, we rolled an orange back and forth to each other across the table.
Then, when Mrs. Graley said in a dreamy voice, “So, tell me all about this Mason boy. What does he look like?” I squeezed the orange so hard in the palm of my hand juice squirted everywhere.
Joey howled in pain, “Holy shit, you shot that shit in my eye! Ah, that freaking burns!”
“Oh, my. Watch your mouth, young man!” Mrs. Graley came running at him with a kitchen towel and narrowed her eyes at me like I did it on purpose. Yeah, like I was the grand champion of orange squirters everywhere, able to hit any target I freakin’ wanted from five feet away.
Charlie just sat herself down on the couch and looked at me with her eyebrows all squished together and raked her teeth over her bottom lip.
I sucked my cheeks in and stood up, flicking the juice of the orange from my hand all over the floor. “Yeah, let’s hearallabout MasonLa Douche,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Damn it! Does nobody care that I’ve been blinded by orange juice?” Joey yelped.
“Sweetie, you’ll be fine. Just watch that mouth. Let’s hear all about this young man while I clean this mess and set the table.”
Then, I had to sit through an entire biography lesson of Mason La Douche. On and on, Mrs. Graley asked questions about him; I wanted to stuff an orange in her mouth to stop her.
“I still can’t freaking see, dude,” Joey mumbled.
“Hell, you think if I pour that crap in my ears I’d go deaf so I won’t have to hear how perfect La Douche is?"
I barely ate any dinner.
Hell, I barely made it around the corner to Ava’s house, because my lungs couldn’t pull in enough air.
We hung out with a few other kids from school in Ava’s backyard, all sitting on lawn chairs around a small, metal fire pit. Some of the girls were roasting marshmallows, and most of the guys were just throwing garbage in the flames to watch the burning embers burst up into the sky.
I sat and sulked.
Soon the conversation led to Mason and Charlie going to the dance together. Of course, one of the girls asked Charlie point blank, “Mason is a senior. He’s going to want to do a lot more than just dance with you, ya know? What are you going to do?”
“It’s just a dance,” Charlie offered.
“Have you kissed him yet?” Ava asked.
Charlie’s face turned bright red, but she didn’t answer.
I leaned forward in my chair, rested my elbows on my legs, and clenched my hands together tightly; the searing heat of the fire fell harshly against my skin. “Yeah, Charlie. Tell us, did you kiss him yet?” I asked, glaring at her.
She said nothing as she stared at me wide-eyed.
My breathing grew ragged. My lips pinched and tightened against my teeth, and I felt my nostrils flaring as I tried to contain my rage.
Then, she shook her head and looked down.
