Storky (10 page)

The other guys on our team are this bald guy Lester and his son Dan. I see where Berman got the hair-ruffling idea. Lester’s always doing it to Dan. Maybe because he has no hair of his own to mess with. I hope I never go bald. Not that having a Brillo pad on your head is so great, but it’s better than nothing. Lester’s always praising Dan. Even when he got a gutter ball tonight, Lester goes, “Nice try.” Dan just looked at me and rolled his eyes. You can tell Lester thinks he’s the greatest father in the world. Having that weekly bonding thing with Dan, and spouting off his barfulous lines about sportsmanship and teamwork and junk. At least Berm just jokes around and bowls and gives high fives every so often. Of course, he’s not my father.

I can’t believe how popular I am. Things are picking up for this old nerd. When Sydney came by our lunch table, I thought for sure it was to bring up the Rex Incident. I was all set to argue with her. Or beg.

Then she asked me to the Snowball. She stammered it, like I was important. When I told her I already had a date, I think I saw tears in her eyes. Nate’s been calling me Babe Magnet all afternoon.

Wish I could tell Duke about Gina and Sydney. Why did I have to be so jerky to him last time? I bet he’s still mad. I can’t go over there. He’d probably get all his geezer friends to ream me with their canes.

I can’t trust anyone. If I wait long enough, they all screw me. Amanda read my journal, Nate lied, Dad doesn’t care, and now this.

Mom told me to stop messing up the house. That Dr. Vermin had the TV at his condo. After all the time I spent tearing everything apart searching for it. I knew Verm wasn’t the Mr. Nice Guy he pretends to be.

Mom says it was her idea, but so what? Verm went along with it. She didn’t even apologize. She said she knew I’d look all over the house for the TV. Like it’s my fault her boyfriend took it. And what if they broke up? Verm would probably keep the TV and I’d never see it again.

I should go live with Aunt Marsha. She’s probably so lonely it would cheer her up. I couldn’t live with Dad. He wouldn’t want me. I called him to see if he could pick me up early Sunday so we could go suit shopping, and all he said was that it’s not a good plan. He didn’t even ask what I needed the suit for.

On top of everything, I can’t even yell at Mom too much because I need the money for the Snowball. We’re double dating with Nate and Heather. His mom will drive both ways. I hope she doesn’t smoke in the car. Maybe Nate can say something to her.

Mom was bummed when I turned down her offer to drive. Good. I hate her. And I hate her fat, lying boyfriend. And I hate Dad. And Amanda for hogging up all the popularity and looks genes in the family. And Osama bin Laden, of course. And the Chargers for choking all the time. And everyone else in the world. Except Gina. And Sydney. And I guess Nate’s okay. And possibly Duke.

If I was still talking to Duke, I’d tell him I was right about Vermin being a jerk. And about Gina liking me. Duke had it all wrong. I think he did anyway.

Mom gave me $200 for Hanukkah. Excellent! She taped it under a package of new socks. The pathetic thing is that before I saw the money, I wasn’t even fazed that Amanda got a CD player and all I got was socks.

Vermin came over with the TV. Said he didn’t want to be in the middle of everything. He even apologized. Which is cool. Grownup-to-kid apology is a pretty rare thing. Mom put the TV in the garage and said if I sneak it, I’ll lose it for another month.

Verm acts like he likes me. I wonder if he really does, or if he’s just trying to get on Mom’s good side. What if he’s secretly planning to march me off to military school or torture me with his dental equipment?

Dad wants to change our visits to every other week. Says he has a lot of work to do. Probably he’s just tired of making excuses every other week for why he doesn’t want to see me. I bet if Amanda came along, he’d be there every Sunday right on time.

Tonight Dad was even quieter than usual. Like he barely spoke. I knew something was wrong, so I asked how his girlfriend was doing. He goes, “We broke up.” I said I was sorry. Sure I was.

When someone says, We broke up, that always means he got dumped. Otherwise he’d say, I broke up with her. Another one is, It didn’t work out. That also means, I got dumped. Amanda told me that. She also said taking Gina to the Snowball is a violation of Cardinal Rule of Dating #6: Never date someone on the rebound. What does she know?

Dad gave me a Hanukkah present. He drove over to the ATM and takes out 5 twenties. He hands them to me and goes, “Here’s a Hanukkah present so you can buy a suit.”

When he did that, I thought about the latkes we used to make. Before the Divorce. How we’d all cook latkes together the first night of Hanukkah. Dad would come home from work early and he’d wear that dorky apron Amanda made him in 7th grade. We’d use a huge bag of potatoes and some onions and take turns grating and frying, and everyone would pig out. It was just our family.

Mom tried to do it with me and Amanda a couple years ago, but Amanda said she was on a diet, and I started a grease fire, and Mom ended up yelling at us.

Dad never asked why I needed a suit. I didn’t even mention the Snowball. Like he’d be interested. I sure didn’t tell him Mom already gave me money. Maybe I can buy some decent computer games now. Or I could use it to take Gina out again. Only 6 more days until the Snowball.

I don’t even care that Dad’s cutting back on the visits. Well, not much, I guess. Was Duke really saying Dad deserved a better son than me? Not that I deserved a better dad, right? I’ll never know now.

Haven’t seen Sydney at my locker since she asked me to the Snowball. I miss her in a weird way. In Spanish class she stares somewhere else every time I turn to look at her.

Nate wants to go to Romero’s on Saturday. It’s right down the block from school, so we could walk to the dance from there. He found these 2-for-1 coupons. He says girls always go to the can after dinner because they have bean-sized bladders (lima? kidney? green bean?) and have to redo their makeup after any kind of movement like eating. So Nate can just slip out the coupon while they’re in the john and they’ll never know. I don’t want Gina thinking I’m a cheapskate, but I bet we can pull it off. 3 more days until the Snowball.

I’m all set for the Snowball. I’m going to bed right after I write this entry, which will be short. I should be finished by 9:50, asleep by 10:00.

I sort of know how to dance now, I guess. Aunt Marsha says I’m a natural. She’s probably just trying to build up my self-esteem. I don’t think I totally suck. People won’t be pointing and laughing. Anyway, it’ll be dark in there.

Glad I got up the nerve to call Aunt Marsha and ask for help. I totally trust her. She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone what we were up to.

Aunt Marsha taught me some cool dance moves. And it gave us both something to do on Friday night. Beats my usual routine of watching MTV and eavesdropping on Amanda’s dates. Since June dumped her, I bet Aunt Marsha hasn’t done much either.

It’s now 9:48. I’m going to bed. I’ll be completely rested for tomorrow.

It’s 12:09 and I’ve been lying awake for 2 hours and 19 minutes. What if Aunt Marsha taught me to dance like a lesbian? Maybe she goes to gay bars and the women have their own style and everyone at school will think I’m a lesbian. That doesn’t make sense. Guys can’t be lesbians. But what if she never goes dancing anymore and she taught me old dance steps that no one does now?

What if Hunk is at the dance and beats me up? Or what if Sydney’s there and starts crying when she sees me with Gina? What if Sydney beats me up? She’s pretty big, and she’s on the swim team. She could probably take me.

I have to go to sleep. This is nuts.

It’s 1:32. My stomach is killing me. It’s like someone’s kneading dough in there. How old was that tofu-prune casserole Aunt Marsha gave me for dinner? That thing was barfulous. How can you tell if tofu goes bad? Maybe it’s the prunes. With my luck I’ll have the runs at the dance tonight.

 

 

 

I can’t write any more tonight of what was supposed to be like the best experience of my pitiful life. I’m too mad to try to sort it out. I’d probably start yelling. Or call Gina and yell at her.

Tonight I really am going to sleep. I wish I could just keep sleeping until I’m out of high school.

Since yesterday was my first date and the worst night of my life, I’m forcing myself to write about it. If I ever want to blow a ton of money on a girl again, I’ll look back at this entry and buy a bunch of computer games instead. In 20 years, when people ask why I never got married, I’ll let them read this and they’ll understand.

So here goes. The night started off fine. After Mom took a zillion pictures, she dropped me off at Nate’s and we told each other how hot we looked. I got to sit in back with the girls on the way there. Nate already called the backseat for the trip home. He figured Heather might make out with him by then.

First we got Heather. She looked sexy. No bra. Just her body and this little thin black dress with no straps or sleeves or anything to hold up her boobs. Not that she has much.

Then we got Gina. She looked beautiful. She wore these little butterflies in her hair, barrettes, I guess, and a powder-blue dress with a long slit up her leg. All night I got to see flashes of her leg through the slit when she moved the right way. She gave me a hug at her door and I had to remember the last 10 American presidents to keep Rex in line.

Nate’s mom didn’t say anything the whole way there, which made her the ideal driver. The disasters started after she dropped us off at Romero’s. All these people were waiting for a table. The hostess goes, “You have reservations?” Nate and I looked at each other. Nate whispers no, and she goes, “There’s an hour wait unless you want to eat at the bar.”

So my first dinner out with a girl, we sit on these high barstools where our feet can’t even reach the floor. Real mature. Right next to me, this older lady, like Mom’s age, was totally plastered. Her boyfriend or date or whatever he was kept asking her to go to his apartment, and she kept laughing at him like a mule and begging the bartender for one more drink. Sad.

Gina and I hardly talked to each other. It was too loud. The food was decent, but I kept thinking I could have bought tickets to a Chargers game for what our chicken parmesans cost.

I stressed the whole time because the girls didn’t go to the bathroom like Nate said they would, and we needed to give the waiter the coupon. Plus I didn’t know whether to order dessert or not. I didn’t want to look like a pig and be the only one eating, but I didn’t want to look like a cheapskate either.

It turned out that no one ordered dessert. The waiter gave us the check, but the girls didn’t make any kind of moves to go to the can. Finally, Nate just hid the coupon between our twenties and the bill.

The waiter picked out the coupon, held it up, and stared at it like it was a UFO. He got all attitudinal. He goes, “Present Coupon Upon Ordering. It says it right here. Now I have to recalculate the bill.”

I caught Heather and Gina shaking their heads at each other. I bet the Incredible Hunk never uses coupons on a date. Even with the discount, the dinner set me back $37.50.

So after all that, the girls decided to go to the bathroom right as we were leaving. When they left, Nate told me he could see right into Heather’s dress and he thought he even got a peek at her right nipple.

Oh, man, I typed all this and I didn’t even get to the dance yet. I’ll just say that we walked there and Nate held Heather’s hand the whole way. She had him hold her purse too. Wish I had a picture of that. With her other hand she kept pulling up the top of her dress. Gina held her purse with the hand closest to mine, like letting me know
not
to take her hand.

The dance itself sucked because of Gina. It started to suck right away. As soon as we got in line at the auditorium, with the security guards checking everyone for weapons and drugs, we saw Hunk. He stood 2 people ahead of us. He had his arm around this really tall skinny girl. Actually it rested on her butt. She looked old—18, maybe—definitely older than Gina. When she turned around, I saw she wasn’t that hot. Her face was too long, like that actress who played Phoebe on
Friends
.

Gina kept staring at them. It got to the point where Heather had to ask if she was okay. She nodded, but I knew right then that Amanda was right about Cardinal Rule of Dating #6. I shouldn’t date a girl on the rebound, even Gina. To her I was just an escort, someone who bought the tickets so she could go to the Snowball and show off her butterflies and her new dress.

This is hard to write. I’m so totally bummed, my fingers feel all slow and heavy on the keyboard.

But I’ll keep going, for the record. As soon as we got in, the girls headed for the bathroom again. Nate was too psyched about holding Heather’s hand and seeing her right nipple to care about my problems with Gina. We stood at the refreshment table pigging out on the cookies.