Two days after I
realize that I…ulp…like Sven, I'm sitting on the side of the
road, drinking a huge cherry slurp from Quality Dairy (QD) and
trying not to look at Kendra, who's sitting next to me.
"Guess who I
saw downtown today?" she whispers excitedly.
"Uh…Robert?"
I ask dully. Thank god I don't say Sven, even though that's the only
name in my head.
"No."
She rolls her eyes. "Silas. You know, Silas Bukanho? Forward
on the football team?"
"I really
don't care." I haven't told her. I can't. She'll hate me
forever, be utterly appalled and enraged. I'm stepping into what's
been her established territory for years, territory she's claimed
with a kiss. For all I know, she still wants him. If she doesn't,
she'll still hate me because I gave her such a hard time about the
exact thing I now want her sympathy for. That's, like, the
dictionary definition of hypocrisy.
"Penelope,
what's eating you?" She grabs my shoulder and gives it a little
shake.
"You know I
don't give a shit about buff guys," I say crossly, which is
true.
"Yea, but
you usually make fun of the fact that I do."
"I've
learned not to make fun of you."
Now she looks
even more concerned. "What is going on? Is this about
Robert?"
"Yes and
no."
"Stop being
evasive. I'm your best friend. You better trust me." I say
nothing. "I know you played your stupid D&D game the other
day."
"How do you
know that?"
"Sven told
me."
I eye her warily.
"What else did he tell you?"
"Nothing
really. He said it was very nice."
"Okay,
Kendra, you played the best friend card. This is what really
happened." Sourly, I mutter my story to her, then grit my
teeth. Here it comes and, predictably, she immediately starts
bouncing up and down and squealing. "I knew it. I knew it,"
she shrieks.
"Oh, shut
up. If you hadn't known it so much, it might not have happened. You
may think this is funny but it's serious for me."
She contains
herself with difficulty, then looks straight at me, dead serious. "I
am ecstatic for you," she says, slowly and deliberately. "I,
sort of, think he wants you. Every time he says something about you
around me, he looks guilty. If you kissed him he would enjoy it."
It takes a long time for all of this information to register in my
brain. I'm so relieved that Kendra isn't trying to kill me that I
almost miss the second half of what she's saying.
I swallow several
times before I can speak. "Do you really think so?" I ask
faintly.
"I wouldn't
say it if I didn't," she cries in exasperation. I think I can
trust Kendra when she says stuff like this. She certainly wouldn't
lie to spare my feelings. I mean, when I liked Robert, she said
right away, "You have no chance. Give up." But, at the
same time, I'm so firmly convinced that NO guy will ever want me that
I can't believe her in spite of this. She's not lying but she's
probably mistaken. But, Kendra's still talking. "I know he's
around tomorrow, so you should, like, call him or something."
"Maybe,"
I say doubtfully, not really sure what we would talk about.
"Come on.
You call him all the time anyway to set up your D&D games."
"This is
different."
"Yea,
better. Look, it doesn't matter what you do as long as you can end
up somewhere alone so you can kiss him." I feel frightened.
Probably look it too. Since I touched a guy for the first time only
about forty-eight hours ago, it seems very soon to think about
kissing. "It's easy," says Kendra in exasperation. "Just
toy with him a little first. He likes it." I have only the
vaguest understanding of what that phrase even means. "Now,
promise me you will." I do promise to call him tomorrow but I
don't say anything about kissing because (A) just grabbing and
kissing people is not what I do and (B) now that it's an issue, I'm
starting to realize that, while I may like Sven, I also don't want
Kendra's sloppy seconds.
*******
I’m going to
vomit. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. Even the time I
was persuaded to jump off the high dive platform wasn’t this bad.
I’m holding the phone in my (very sweaty) lap but I just can’t
force myself to dial. Okay. Breathe slowly. Think rationally.
Kendra’s right. You’ve been calling Sven all summer and he
hasn’t had a problem with it. He can’t read your mind
(especially because he doesn’t have one of his own) so he can’t
magically know that the last time you called him you didn’t like
him and this time you do. Yes…that makes perfect sense…but I’m
still freaked out!
Stop thinking. Just act. Kendra does
not encourage thinking and in this situation she would know.
Okay now, just like when you jumped off the diving board. One. Two.
Three. Go! I dial as fast as I can with my clumsy shaking fingers
so I won’t have a chance to change my mind. It takes several
second for someone to answer.
“Hello?” Oh
god, it’s his voice, at least I think it is.
“Sven?” I
hope I don’t sound as frightened as I feel.
“Hey,
Penelope.” He actually sounds pleased to hear from me. “What’s
up?”
Uh…now comes
the hard part. “Well…um…so…” Idiot! You’ll completely
blow your cover if you don’t act normal. “Yea, I don’t have
anything to do today, so I wondered what you were up to.” I sound
like a complete moron.
“I’m doing
nothing too.”
“What a
coincidence. So…do you want to do something then?” The
following pause seems to last forever, especially because I don’t
breath the entire time.
”Yea, sure.
Actually, I turned sixteen this week so I can drive you somewhere if
you want.”
This remark
provokes loud laughter from someone in the background. “Tell her
you’ve already gotten in an accident,” a voice squeals.
“Ben, shut up.”
“Tell her it
happened because you hit a parked car.”
“Excuse me for
a moment,” Sven says to me. I hear him put down the phone and then
there are several loud crashes and banging sounds. “My brother, an
idiot,” he says shortly, after the noises stop. “So, what do you
want to do?”
“I don’t
know. What do you think we should do?”
“Have you ever
played Magic: The Gathering?”
“Once or twice.
I’m not very good though.”
“There's a
place downtown, Tower Keep. Lots of guys hang out and play
and I've got a bunch of friends there,” he finishes with something
that sounds almost like pride. “I was sorta thinking about heading
over there sometime this week. You wanna go now?”
“Sure, that
would be wonderful,” I say faintly. I'm incredibly flattered that
he's not embarrassed to have me meet these friends he thinks so
highly of (and horribly relieved that he doesn't seem to be
suspicious at all about my sudden phone call). However, it's true
what I said. I'm not very good at Magic. I'm afraid of
making a fool of myself in front of him or his, apparently
impressive, friends. If I make him look bad to them, he might hate
me. Worst of all, there's the fear his friends will think I'm his
trophy girl or something, which is humiliating enough as it is but,
worse, they might decide to comment on it...which could be
disastrous. And I'm so shy around strangers, even at the best of
times, how will I deal when I'm already tongue-tied about seeing Sven
again?
He comes to pick
me up from my house, which is amazing in and of itself. As I climb
into the seat next to him, I realize this is the first time ever that
I've been truly alone with a guy I like. Robert was the first time
I'd interacted with somebody outside school or other public functions
and that was strictly in the context of the D&D game. Now, we
have complete and total privacy and, by extension, complete and total
freedom. We could just choose to drive away wherever we want (or he
could just take me away against my will) and no one could prevent it.
Neither of us have cell phones with us or anything else that would
allow people to trace us. Even though nothing of the kind actually
happens, the prospect is still exciting and alarming.
I keep my eyes
cast down as I situate myself and fumble awkwardly for my seat-belt
buckle. But then, as he pulls out of the driveway and (presumably)
is looking at the road, I steal a glance in his direction and feel
like I've been stabbed with lightning. He is gorgeous. And I
never saw it before today. “So, how have you been?” I ask
awkwardly.
“Oh, fine. But
I have to start this summer reading intensive next week. It's going
to suck so much.”
“A what? Why?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Because of my 'unacceptable' English grade last year.” He
takes his hands off the wheel to make quote marks in the air. I
quickly remember what his brother said about him hitting parked cars.
In a panic, I squawk and slap at his hands. I quickly realize I've
made a mistake when he gets a malicious look in response to my
nerves.
“I can't be too
careful,” I say bitingly, in an attempt to save the situation.
“After all, I hear you've been hitting stationary objects.” My
heart does a little flip at my daring. Sure, we've sparred at each
other plenty before, usually to my extreme annoyance. But, in the
new circumstances, it becomes almost flirtation (see, I told you they
were virtually the same thing). And the thought of me flirting is
like preparing to jump head first off the high dive.
As anticipated, my
comment sours him quickly. “It wasn't a parked car,” he mutters.
“It was pulled up outside of the parking lane and I was coming
around the corner so I couldn't see it.”
“Sure, I
understand perfectly.” I give him a knowing look while, at the
same moment, realizing just how little (less than nothing) I know
about what I'm doing. “Anyway,” I go on, getting myself back on
familiar ground, “I took third level English freshman year so, if
you ever get stuck on anything, I'll probably know how to help.”
“Thanks, I'll
keep that in mind.” He actually seems genuinely grateful and I
can't help feeling optimistic, at least for the moment. I guess
there are some advantages to liking someone who isn't so bright. I
could never have gotten away with offering help to Robert. It took
all my brain power just to not look dumb compared to him
As I reflect on
this, we pull into the parking lot behind Tower Keep, so I'm
spared having to come up with more topics to discuss. It actually
ends up not being so terribly awkward after all. Random people of all
ages come from all over the city to play here so a lot of people are
total strangers, not just me. Plus, lots of people, especially
younger kids, are just staring out so I'm actually better than
some of them. Yea, I don't come close to measure up to Sven's “cool”
friends, who don't actually seem to treat him much different from
everyone else there but still... Besides, there are lots of game
variations with groups and teams and stuff that are pretty effective
at hiding my relative lack of ability, so I don't end up standing out
like I feared.
Well, except for
one thing. I should have have said Tower Keep hosts random
guys of all ages and skill levels from around the city.
During the four plus hours we're there, I don't set eyes on another
living being who lacks a Y chromosome. Strangely, no one comments on
this and I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I'm
glad potentially embarrassing or enraging situations are being
avoided. But...I strongly suspect that if there was a “hot” girl
here someone would notice and, since no one does, it just serves to
drive home to me even more strongly that I'm so not that.
As might have been
expected, Kendra doesn't think much of my first post-infatuation
outing with Sven. “Oh, come on,” she cries in exasperation.
“You didn't even have any privacy together.”
“Sure we did,
while we were in his car. Isn't shit supposed to happen in cars?”
“It doesn't
count if he's driving.”
“Not like he
ever drove you anywhere,” I mutter under my breath. “I'd say
that counts for something.”
“And you didn't
do anything suggestive either,” she barges ahead, either not
hearing or ignoring my comment. “You spent the whole time in a
gaming store.”
“Yes, doing nerd
activities,” I snap. “Well, we happen to both like them and...”
“But they won't
get you laid.” I value her friendship so I decline to point out
that her approach didn't exactly get her laid either (thought it did
get her further than me), which is why I'm back on the phone, dialing
Sven's house again. This time I'm not quite as freaked out. Nothing
bad happened last time. I still feel horribly daring doing it
though.
I ask him if he wants to go back to
the gaming store but he says that Jeff wants him to go to a movie in
the afternoon. Well, crap. "I guess you could always come
along if you want."
"Is that
okay?" I ask hesitantly.
"Jeff's
paying for it, so of course it is."
That was totally
not what I meant, plus, now I feel a bit miffed that he's implying he
would object to paying for me. "Are you sure Jeff won't have a
problem?"
"He better
not because I'm driving." I don't even bother to ask what movie
we're seeing. It's really not important. But, when I find out its
Cosmic Courage, a semi-soap-operaish sci-fi movie based on a
popular TV show, I'm not so thrilled, though I'm careful not to show
it. Kendra and Julia wanted to see that movie and I refused. Oh
well, they'll never know.
When Sven comes
to get me, I notice Ben's in the van too, along with one of his
friends. Is Jeff going to pay for all of us and does he even
know it yet? When we pick him up, he does look rather surprised
about the extra people but doesn't say anything, perhaps because Sven
starts driving away before he's even had a chance to shut the door.
"Hurry up
and close the door, you idiot," Sven yells. "You're
letting all the air conditioning escape." As if that was the
only reason he wouldn't want the door open while driving. Jeff tries
to lean out and shut the door but, when we pass too close to a
telephone pole, he quickly pulls back inside.
"Stop the
van first," he cries angrily. "I'm not closing the door
until you do." Sven floors the breaks and the van lurches to a
halt so that the door slams violently, almost catching Jeff's foot in
the process. Now, he's really pissed. "No, I wanted you to
gradually apply pressure to the breaks," he yells in
exasperation.
"Sven
doesn't understand how to gradually apply pressure to anything,"
I say smugly. For some reason, Ben concludes that this is a
suggestive comment and starts cackling maliciously. Fortunately,
this distracts Jeff from his anger although I remain slightly worried
that someone will call more attention to my apparent interest in Sven
but no one does and we reach the mall without further incident.
After we've
claimed our seats, everyone else wants to go buy refreshments. Since
I don't want any (popcorn slathered in butter and cheese is so
disgusting) I'm left behind to guard the seats. I'm gazing back over
my shoulder at Sven as he goes up the aisle when who do I see pass
him on the way in but Kendra and Julia? I make myself into a very
tiny ball and hope they won't see me.
After several
minutes of sitting with my shoulders hunched and my hair carefully
combed across my face, I think I've succeeded. Then, I hear Julia
shriek, "Oh my god, it's Penelope." Immediately, they both
rush to my side. There's no point in hiding any more, so I push my
hair back out of my face and weakly say hi
"What's
Penelope doing here?" asks Kendra, sounding rather put out. "I
thought she said she didn't want to see this move?"
"Maybe she
just didn't want to see it with us," sneers Julia. "Maybe
she thinks she's too good for us."
"No, it's
not that at all. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"Well...you
see..." I don't really want to tell them why I'm here. I don't
think it will pacify them at all and, besides, I don't want them
hanging around trying to make trouble. "I really don't want
to see this movie . I'm here because of the personal advantages I'm
getting from it."
"That makes
no sense at all," snaps Kendra.
"Wait,
wait," Julia squeals excitedly and begins jumping up and down.
"Wasn't that Sven we saw on our way in here?"
"Now that
you mention it, it was." Kendra turns and gives me a sugary
smile. "Is that who you're here with?" she asks.
I desperately
want to deny it but know that it won't do any good. "Among
other people," I say, trying to sound casual.
Julia gives
Kendra an exaggerated nudge. "It wasn't very nice of him to
leave her here all by herself, was it?"
"They're
getting food," I say defensively, "and I didn't want any.
I chose to stay here." Though now I wish I hadn't.
"Look at her
trying to make excuses for him," cries Kendra in disgust, "even
when he's being so rude to her. I should give him a piece of my mind
about this."
"Please
don't do anything to embarrass me," I say feebly.
"Don't
worry," says Julia with mock sympathy, "We'll leave you
alone with lover boy. We have way more important things to do than
try to pay attention to what Sven Plotz is doing. And we'd better
hurry because here he comes now." They walk off together,
cackling so loudly that there's no way Sven (and everyone else in the
theater) can't hear them. I make myself very small as he drops into
his seat. I'm terrified that he'll say something about Kendra and
Julia but, either he doesn't feel like talking about them or he's so
clueless that he really didn't notice. Instead, he offers me some of
his food. The thought of sharing with him is completely
overwhelming, so I quickly pick out the least objectionable item:
M&Ms. As he tilts the bag to pour into my palm, his hand brushes
against me and my hand trembles, almost spilling the candies in it.
As predicted, the movie is horribly boring and makes no sense at all,
but I'll never be sorry I went. Just feeling the heat of Sven's body
next to me is wonderful, but that's not all. He isn't really into
the movie either and doesn't understand the plot much better than I
do. So, throughout the movie, he's constantly leaning close to
whisper to me about how ridiculous a lot of the things that happen
are. The breath of his voice moves my hair and tingles against my
ear. I feel weak, knowing he's so close to me and thrills race over
my skin when I think that he's doing it voluntarily. I try to
whisper back from time to time, but mostly I'm too shy to say
anything. As we leave the theater after the movie, I glance around
nervously for Kendra and Julia but see no sign of them. Maybe they
hung around to watch the credits or something.
"What
happens now?" asks Ben, once we're all out in the hallway.
"We're going
to Bounce, Pop, Spin," says Jeff and immediately takes
off through the mall.
"What's
that?" I ask, as we hurry to catch up with him.
"They sell
Frisbees, super-balls, yo-yos, stuff like that," says Sven.
"And I need
to buy a new yo-yo," Jeff yells back over his shoulder.
The store is
filled with every sort of item made of rubber, hard plastic, or
styrofoam, that can fly, roll, or inflate, all in bright primary or
fluorescent colors. It's vaguely interesting but my back soon starts
to ache. Unfortunately, the yo-yos take up one entire wall so there
is little hope of a quick resolution. Jeff takes what feels like an
hour as he picks up and tests them all. Finally, he grabs one in
clear red with silver trim.
"This is the
one I want," he cries eagerly.
Sven squints at
the price. "But it costs thirty dollars," he objects.
"But its so
awesome." Jeff doesn't seem to care about the price. "Now,
we go to the arcade." He goes racing off again as soon as he's
paid. Ben and his friend, who have been happily throwing plastic
darts at each other, appear excited by the prospect and hurry after
him. I follow more slowly, hands pressed to my aching back, dragged
onwards by the lure of Sven's dark, shining hair. As soon as we
arrive, Sven challenges Jeff to a game of Mortal Kombat. Jeff
is busy playing with his new yo-yo and doesn't notice. Sven punches
him in the shoulder.
"Put that
thing down and come get your ass kicked."
"I do not
believe it is my ass that will be kicked," sniffs Jeff, as he
saunters over to the arcade machine with his nose in the air and
slams his yo-yo down on the top of the control panel. In almost
perfect unison, they squat down to drop their quarters in the coin
slot and then the battle is on. In addition to constantly trash
talking, they also step on each other's feet and elbow each other, or
even shove with their shoulders in what is almost a body check. I'm
completely riveted with fascination. The pain in my back is totally
forgotten in the rush of sick jealously. What I wouldn't give to be
able to do what they're doing. Not only would it be wonderful to be
able to touch Sven that much (and to have such a convenient excuse so
no one could point fingers at me for doing it) but, most of all, I
want to be able to fight, to compete. Just seeing them so totally
locked into it gets my blood up. I wish I could experience the
thrill of battle as well. I want to prove I'm just as good as a guy
and, specifically, that I'm good enough for Sven by beating him. But
I've never played this game before. I wouldn't last five minutes and
would just humiliate myself.
Since I'm denied
any hope of personal glory, I focus my attention on admiring Sven,
the look of concentration on his face, the way his hair flies about
him as he moves. It's only the second time I've seen him since...and
I'm still wrestling with the fact that the face and body, the voice,
gestures, and expressions that I've been familiar with for over a
year now and which have seemed perfectly commonplace and
unremarkable, have suddenly been changed into magic things of power
and light. It doesn’t take me long to realize I’ve never felt
this way before. I’ve had attractions before, of course, a few
anyway. In addition to Robert, there was the depressed artist
prodigy, and the gawky actor who played the prince in our community
youth performance of Snow White who made me cry because he had
to kiss the princess and she wasn’t me. Actually, I didn’t have
a part at all. Ugly Penelope didn’t even qualify for the evil
queen. My job was to work backstage…conveniently out of sight.
Now I am fascinated by hair and flesh. I’ve always admired hair,
the artist’s butterscotch curls, the actor’s golden silk hair,
but of skin I’ve only ever noticed the surface qualities, smooth
flawless white or the pink of a cheek, picture perfect like a
mythological figure in a Waterhouse painting and just as three
dimensional and caressable as a painting (for the record, I like
Waterhouse because his women have small breasts and pouchy stomachs
like me).
But now I have
become aware of the flesh beneath the skin, the shape and consistency
of Sven’s tricep. How would it respond to the pressure of a
finger? The faint dips and swells of his chests that can be vaguely
seen through his clothes represent a solid entity I could,
theoretically, press myself against, and the curve of his neck, from
jaw to shoulder, forming an intimate crevice into which I could slip
my hand or even my chin. Yes, we’ve touched before, but the hard
bones of ankles and toes give me little hint of the richness there to
be explored. This is not love, I know this. For me, love is soft
and reverent. All my attractions have included a fair amount of awe.
I was in awe of Robert’s intelligence, the artist’s talents. I
dreamed about making him famous, bringing his work to the world and
curing his depression by showing him what a valuable gift he had.
That seems much closer to love than this. There’s awe here too but
it isn’t soft or reverent. More like, “with my body I thee
worship.” But this worship of the body, that seems to come so
easily to people around me, like Kendra, is beyond me. I've seen him
and spoken to him a hundred times before and felt nothing, often
immediately forgotten about it (or wished I could). Nothing has
changed and yet the exact same things have now become the center of
the universe, to be memorized and analyzed.
I'm pleased when
Sven does finally end up clobbering Jeff. Even though the victory
will make him arrogant, I find myself liking the prospect. I have a
mini-fantasy that he's won me in a tournament or something like that.
But it doesn't last long. As Sven continues to rub Jeff's loss in
his face, Jeff sulkily accuses him of purposely picking a game that
he was better at. At this, Sven immediately drags him off for a
rematch on another game. I don't want to look completely pathetic,
just following Sven around, so I make myself go in a different
direction and pretend to be interested in what Ben and his friend are
doing. By the time I feel it's safe to go back to Sven, he's managed
to beat Jeff several times at the new game. What a shame I missed
it. Having thoroughly demonstrated his superiority, Sven suggests we
go get something to eat, an idea I heartily approve of since I ate
hardly anything during the movie. Jeff doesn't raise any objection
but, as we make our way out of the arcade, he reaches into his pocket
for his new yo-yo and it's not there.
“You must have
forgotten it after you set it down on the Mortal Kombat
machine,” I suggest. Realizing this is exactly what he did, Jeff
goes racing back in a panic with the rest of us trailing behind.
But, by the time we arrive, the yo-yo is gone. Jeff turns abruptly
on Sven.
“You. This is
all your fault,” he accuses.
“What are you
talking about?” Sven looks genuinely confused.
“My yo-yo. You
made me put it down and then just walked away. I'm out thirty
dollars from your carelessness and selfishness.”
“You're full of
crap,” Sven says, starting to get angry. “If you waste your
money and then can't keep track of what you buy, how's that my
fault?”
“Because you
made me put it down so you could show off. You ought to replace it
for me.”
“You must be
kidding. I'm not replacing anything.” They square off again for a
fight, not in a video game but against each other.
I figure things
have gone far enough and quickly step between them. “You're both
acting like idiots,” I snap. Jeff's expression shows clear
annoyance at the interference of the “stupid, pacifist, girl.”
I'm careful not to look at Sven. I don't want to know what he's
thinking. “Your memory is obviously very poor,” I say, matching
Jeff's contempt with my own. “Sven may have asked you to put it
down but you were the one who suggested playing a different game and
ran off without picking it up.” This jogs Jeff's memory slightly
and he looks less sure of himself.
“So I didn't do
anything wrong,” says Sven smugly.
“Except act like
a total dick,” I reply shortly.
He seems taken
aback. “I thought you were on my side, Penelope.”
“And why would
you think that?”
He steps closer
and gives me a sideways look. “Because you really like me?” He
lowers his voice almost suggestively. I feel my knees start to
buckle and put my hand on the arcade machine behind me to steady
myself. Does he know? Help! Panic! Maybe not flat out but, even in
this short time, he's sensed, maybe subconsciously, that something's
changed in me, something that would make me receptive to this kind of
manipulation. The honeymoon is over. I can no longer focus solely
on winning him(unlikely as that was in the first place). I
must devote at least as much effort to defending myself at the same
time. If I have to choose between being myself and being someone
Sven likes, I need to know I'll make the right choice. My rather
grim train of thoughts is interrupted by Jeff demanding that we go
back to the store so he can buy a replacement yo-yo.
©Amanda Hamlin 2024
