How to Ruin My Teenage Life (22 page)

“To be honest, my body's only thinking about one thing right now.”

“Me, too. Aren't you going to take your shirt off?”

As his hands reach for the hem of his shirt he says in a strained voice, “Your dad's gonna kill me,” then he lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the drivers seat with his eyes never leaving me.

Brushing the tips of his fingers across my abdomen, my body tingles in response and I shiver. “Are you okay with this?” he asks, his face serious.

I nod and give him a small smile. “I'll let you know when I'm not.”

As I lean down to press our bodies against each other, his hands reach around under my open shirt and pull me toward him. “Your body … so warm.”

His hands are like a fire, consuming my body with his touch. I lean my head on his chest, hearing his heart beating in the same erratic rhythm as my own while his hands move up and caress my hair, my bare back, and my breasts.

I reclaim his lips and my raw emotions and new wonderful feelings whirl in my consciousness. I'm fully aware I'm not ready to have sex, but I'm ready to experience more … “Avi,” I say, letting my tone say more than my words. I want …

As if he understands, Avi shifts again, this time moving our bodies so he's on top of me. “Ow,” he says.

“What?” Did I do something to hurt him?

“I just banged my head on the mirror.”

“I think the seatbelt is digging into my back,” I tell him. Or maybe it's the handcuffs digging into my back. Or both. All I know is that we're both uncomfortable right now.

He puts his forehead against mine and groans in frustration as he attempts to stretch his legs out so they're not pinning mine under his. I think one of his legs is under the steering wheel, but I can't be sure.

My hands are on his shoulders, my feet scrunched under the dashboard, and I think Avi's elbow is stuck in the cup holder.

And now my cell phone is ringing again.

“This isn't working, is it?” he says.

I scan our position, the awkwardness of it all. “I guess you're right,” I say, totally frustrated.

He leans into the back seat, retrieves the ringing phone, and hands it to me.

Flipping it open, I say, “Hey,
Aba
.”

Avi twists himself and ends up sitting in the driver's seat.

“Are you okay?” my dad barks on the other end of the line.

“Yeah.” More than okay.

“Then I'm going to kill you. Where are you? I've been calling and calling. Why get you a cell phone if you won't answer it?”

“I didn't hear the phone,” I lie, interrupting his tirade. “I must have been in a bad cell area.” That is such a lame answer, but I'm not too good at coming up with lies on the fly.

“Where are you? I asked Nathan, but he's keeping his lips tighter than a submarine door. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“I'm with Avi,” I finally say while tossing the handcuffs into the back seat so they're not pressing into my back anymore.

“I thought he went to stay with his friend at Northwestern. You told me it was over between you two.”

“It was … but not anymore. He's coming back home to stay with us.” I say the words, then look over at Avi hoping he'll agree to sleep at our condo tonight and every night until his plane leaves.

“Are you with him now?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

I look out over the empty parking lot, the deserted beach, and the frozen Lake Michigan water glittering in the moonlight. “Yes,” I say.

“Put Avi on the phone. Right. Now.”

“
Aba
, don't embarrass me.”

“Let me tell you this much, Amy. If you don't put him on the phone, I'm taking away your cell phone, your computer privileges, car privileges, and that boy is not allowed in my home. Got it?”

My dad is a total buzz kill. I hold out the phone to Avi. “He wants to talk to you.”

Avi takes the phone with all seriousness. “
Ken
,” he says. Yes.

I only hear Avi's part of the conversation, but it doesn't even matter because he's in full-blown Hebrew mode.

“
Ani shomer aleha. Ken. He beseder. Ken, ani rotze lishmor al kol chelkay hagouf sheli
.”

“What's he saying?” I whisper.

Avi holds his hand over the mouthpiece. “He's going through a list of my body parts he'll rearrange if I ‘compromise' you.”

I slap my hand over my eyes. Seriously, my dad could drive any guy away from me, even a commando in the Israel Defense Forces.

“Ron,
ta'ameen li … ani ohev et habat shelcha ve lo ya'aseh cloom lif'goah bah
.”

After Avi said that last part, there's silence on the other end of the line for a second. I can feel the tension ebb and flow between the two men in my life.

“
Beseder
,” Avi says.

“
Beseder
,” he repeats.

“
Beseder
,” he says again.

The suspense is killing me. “What does
beseder
mean?”

Instead of answering me, he collapses the phone, disconnecting the line. Then he tosses the phone into the back seat. “It means ‘fine', or ‘okay.'”

“Did he really threaten you?”

“Especially after I told him I loved you.”

Heart palpitation here. “You told him you loved me?”

He nods.

I tilt my head to the side and say with a smile, “You know you're supposed to declare your love to the girl before you tell her father. Unless it's the olden days, in which you'd be giving my dad goats, gifts, and gold in exchange for permission to marry me.”

“My family owns half of the goats on the
moshav
,” he says, lifting his eyebrows. “How about I offer our half to your dad?”

I was at the
moshav
over the summer. My uncle owns the other half of the goat farm. “That's a lot of goats,” I say. “How do you know I'm worth it?”

Avi looks into my eyes. “You're worth it, Amy,” he says, once again cradling my head in his hands. “Trust me, life with you would be an adventure,” he whispers.

As I'm about to pull him closer, I feel him tugging my shirt together. “What are you doing?”

“Buttoning your shirt,” he says as his hands deftly move up and button my shirt back up.

“Why?”

“Because I'd rather have you not tell our kids their dad declared his love in the back seat of a car.”

“We're in the front seat.”

“Yeah, well … and as much as I think I could take your dad on and give him a pretty good run for his money, I'd rather not get into it with him.”

Avi puts his own shirt on, covering that six-pack and bronzed chest I once thought didn't affect me. It does.

“Let's take a walk on the beach.”

I look out the window and know it's a cold, breezy night in northern Illinois. “It's freezing out there.”

“Stay close, then. I'll keep you warm.”

We step out of the car. Avi puts his arm around me as we walk down the dark, sandy beach. He's right. His embrace does keep me warm on this chilly night. After a few minutes, Avi halts his steps and turns to me. He takes my hands in his, weaving my fingers through his own. “Amy,” he says, his voice laced with seriousness.

My eyes are filled with emotion. He's going to say it … I know it's so hard for him. His brother died in a bombing and Avi's been struggling with his emotions ever since.

He squeezes his eyes shut as if trying desperately to pull out the words. “Wait here.” Taking my car keys from his back pocket, he runs to the car and back. “Here,” he says, holding out my cell phone. “Call your voicemail.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I dial my voicemail number. The first call was from five o'clock … before I kidnapped him.

“Hi, Amy, it's Avi. I've, uh, been thinking a lot this week and the truth is … well, I miss you. Too much. It's killing me inside not being close to you. I mean, I understand if you want to never call or see me again because I left like a wounded ass, but … well … if you find it in your heart … or even your mind … to forgive me for having an ego as big as the Sears Tower I visited yesterday, call me back on this number – it's Tarik's cell.”

I press nine on my cell and turn to him. “That was so sweet,” I say. And it means so much to me that he called before I kidnapped him.

“Wait, listen to the next message.”

The next message? I put my ear back on the phone to hear the next message.

“It's Avi again. Did I tell you your eyes remind me of blown glass? I can see your soul through those eyes, Amy. They get darker when you're trying to be sexy and they shine when you smile. And when you think you're in trouble you blink double the amount that you usually do. And when you're sad, the corners of your eyes turn down. I miss your eyes. And I don't want the sad ones to be my last memory of you.”

I save the second message, too, then look up at Avi. “There's another one, isn't there?”

He nods.

I press the button and forward to the next message.

“It's Avi. And I want to say something to you. Not because I want you to say it back, either. (
deep breath
) I … I love you. It's not that kind of conditional love … it's the kind that'll be around forever. Even if you don't call. Even if you like Nathan or any other guy. We can be friends. We can be more. Just … call me back.”

I press the forward button. Avi looks like he wants to bite his nails right now, he's so embarrassed.

“
Did I mention when I first met you I was so attracted to you it scared me? Me, scared. I still am when I'm around you, because now I want you in my life forever. How long is forever, Amy?”

I shut the phone off.

“Don't you want to hear the rest of the messages?”

I slip the phone into my back pocket while tears well in my eyes. “No.” Well, actually I'll listen to them when I'm alone in my room at night and want to hear his voice before I fall asleep. Right now all I want to do is be with my boyfriend and enjoy the small amount of time we have left with each other.

“Avi?”

“Yeah.”

“Now I have to tell our kids you declared your love over a cell phone.”

He smiles wide, then laughs. “How about this, then … ” he says, then picks me up effortlessly in his strong arms and lays me gently down on the sand.

I have to say, I'm much less worried about the sand in my hair or stuck to my designer clothes than the words about to come out of Avi's mouth.

He leans over me. His hands once again take mine in his and he weaves his fingers through mine. “I love you, Amy Nelson-Barak. From the moment I laid eyes on you I couldn't stop looking at you. From the moment we talked I couldn't stop arguing with you. From the moment we kissed I couldn't stop kissing you. And from the moment we shared our hopes, fears, and insecurities I couldn't stop loving you.”

Oh, that's good. Twice.

Is today Tuesday?

28

King Solomon didn't ask God to be rich or to live long. He asked for wisdom and knowledge (Kings 3:9). I have to be honest … I'm more selfish than King Solomon. Abercrombie & Fitch is having a sale next week and, well …

It's after midnight when we get back to my condo. We had to retrieve Avi's duffle from Tarik's dorm at Northwestern before coming back home where my dad has been waiting for us like an overprotective lion waiting for his precious cub to return from her first hunt.

My dad situated one of our dining room chairs right in front of the door so his face is the first thing we see. His hair is all messed up, no doubt from running his hands through it a million times.

“Hey,
Aba
,” I say, giving him a peck on his cheek while trying to keep the atmosphere light. Mutt jumps over to me, totally excited and wagging his tail furiously. I pet him, then look back at my stoic dad.

His eyes are narrowed at Avi, who is standing in the doorway with his duffle in hand.

Showdown time.

I put my purse on the table, wondering how long these two can stare each other down. “Avi, why don't you come in while I get the sheets for your bed.”

Avi looks to my dad for approval. Oh, no. I seriously think my dad might just kick him out right now.

Is anyone else going to talk? Or are the two guys going to stand here staring each other down until one of them gives in and looks away? They're like dogs.

“If you loved my daughter you'd have her home at a decent hour.”

Avi opens his mouth as if he's going to say something back, but then closes it. My dad seems content with the silence coming from Avi, as if he's not even expecting a response. I go to the hall closet to get the sheets because I'm too embarrassed to witness my dad going off on my boyfriend and know I can't stop it from happening.

When I walk back into the living room, the scene has changed. Avi is sitting on the couch while my dad has moved the dining room chair into the living room. He's sitting in the chair, facing Avi and watching him.

While Avi and I arrange the sheets, my dad doesn't change expression or flinch. When I hand Avi a pillow and our hands lightly brush against each other, I wonder if my dad can tell how electric that instantaneous touch was.

As soon as the couch is transformed into a bed, my dad barks, “Time for bed.”

I change into pj's in my room and pass Avi in the hallway when I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Looking at myself in the mirror, I see a happy person who's content with her life. It's not perfect, that's for sure. But I'm getting there.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I notice my dad has moved the chair from the living room into the hallway, directly between my room and the living room where Avi is sleeping.

“
Aba
, how long are you going to be sitting there?” I ask him.

“All night.”

I can't even get mad at him. I know he just worries about me and questions his own effectiveness as a father. After all, I've only lived with him a few months and he's still getting used to having a teenage daughter around. He's probably wondering what to tell my mom if she grills him on my life. Considering last year I didn't even want to talk to him, I understand why he's sitting on a chair in the middle of the hallway and isn't willing to budge anytime soon.

Moving past him, I say, “I just want to say goodnight to Avi. Does that meet with your approval?”

“That depends on how long your goodnight will last,” he says, abandoning his post to follow me.

Okay, so three's a crowd in this scenario. It's not easy saying goodnight to the guy of your dreams when your dad is standing over your shoulder.

“Well, goodnight Avi,” I say sheepishly when I get to the living room and wish we were still on the beach … without an overprotective chaperone.

Avi is sitting on the sofa, wearing baggy shorts and … well, that's about it. As much as I hate people staring at my chest, I have the hardest time not staring at his. I think he sits there half-dressed to tempt me.

Two can play at this game.

I can't do it now, but tomorrow I'm going to taunt him by wearing something extra low-cut and tight. Let's see how he reacts in the morning.

He's got this huge grin on his face. He has no clue I have ideas spinning in my head. “
Lyla tov
, Amy,” he says, telling me goodnight in his native language.

I want to say more, but not with my bodyguard behind me, so I stroll back to my room. Although, one backward glance at Avi and I know I don't even have to say the words. He knows how I feel and what I want to say.

“Seriously,
Aba
, do you know how embarrassed you're making me?”

“Seriously, Amy, do you know I don't care?”

I roll my eyes. In bed, I wonder how long he'll stay perched on that chair in the middle of the hallway. I hope he falls asleep in that chair and gets a crick in his neck.

I cuddle under the covers of my bed, wishing I was cuddling with Avi instead of my Care Bear.

Two more nights until Avi leaves. How is my heart not going to crush into a million pieces? And how am I going to sleep tonight when I'm too excited to go to bed? I'm replaying the evening in my head, focusing on the “I love you” parts and conveniently skipping over the embarrassing parts on the Northwestern campus.

Because that can easily be erased from my memory.

Although … I wonder if Jess, Nathan, and Miranda are okay. If you want to get technical about it, I did ditch them tonight.