Storky (19 page)

In fact, I hope people saw. I hope they said to themselves, Old Storky isn’t such a geek after all. Maybe they thought, We shouldn’t call him Storky anymore. Let’s change his nickname to Romeo, or Smooth, or just stick to Mike.

Anyway, I’m never answering to Storky again. I’ll tell anyone who calls me that to lay off. Unless it’s like a really huge guy.

But back to the important stuff: my kissing Sydney. At first, when I put my tongue in her mouth it felt pretty gross. But then I got used to it. Her braces didn’t even hurt my tongue. More like tickled. And besides my hands getting all sticky from the hairspray or whatever in her hair, it felt awesome.

We danced so close I could even feel her nipples against my chest. I don’t think she wore a bra. I tried to remember every winner and runner-up of
Survivor
just to keep Rex in line.

Then we got some cookies. I wiped my face with a napkin, because it was all slobbery. Then we sat on the white folding chairs and started kissing again.

Actually, after a while it got kind of tedious, but I didn’t want to break it off and be rude. Amanda should add that to her Cardinal Rules of Dating: Don’t kiss someone for more than 10 minutes. Sydney turned her head away first because she had to sneeze. I wonder if it was a fake sneeze. Maybe she was bored too.

Nate didn’t go to the Spring Fling. Neither did Gina. Not that I looked for her. Well, maybe a little. Hunk went. With Heather Kvaas. They danced to the slow dances and everything. I wondered whether Gina knew, whether she was home crying or maybe even trying to call me. But it was just like a 2-minute thought. In this horrible way I thought Gina deserved it, and Heather and Hunk deserved each other. But that was only like a 90-second thought. Mostly I was thinking how great Sydney was, and how the Spring Fling ranked right up there with my bar mitzvah as one of the best times of my life.

We kissed again in the car when Sydney dropped me off. She rubbed my back under my suit jacket, and her fingernails felt all sexy, and Rex snapped to attention. It was dark, so I don’t think she noticed. Anyway, she’s already seen Rex like that once before.

When I got in the house, I took off my jacket, held it in front of my suit pants, and started listing countries in Africa. But everyone was asleep by then anyway. Guess I’m the party guy of the family now.

Well, not totally. On the way home from the dance I promised to volunteer with Sydney next week at the Boys and Girls Club. Won’t that be a wild date.

I’m getting a brother! After school Mom dragged me to her doctor. I didn’t want to go, but she said that it would be good for me, and that I had to if I wanted a ride to Sydney’s swim meet on Saturday. Amanda said she’d come out of curiosity, but she was bringing a book.

So me, Mom, Amanda, and Berm crowded into this little room. We watched the nurse check Mom’s blood pressure. Amanda read
Ravish Her Gently
the whole time. Berm asked the nurse all these paranoid questions, like whether Mom’s blood pressure was too low and if she’d gained enough weight. Earth to Berm: Mom’s turned into a blimp. She’s gained enough weight.

I didn’t have much to do except stare at the walls. Actually, I couldn’t stop staring at the chart showing how big a lady’s privates had to stretch to get the baby out. The circle that was supposed to be the actual size of the stretched privates was like the size of a Frisbee. Ow. I’m glad I’m a guy. They should just bring that circle to sex ed classes and no girl would ever get pregnant.

When the doctor finally came in, he had Mom pull her pants down a little. I looked away, but Mom goes, “Relax, you can only see my belly.” Not only is Mom’s stomach humongous, it has blue veins bulging all over it.

The doctor did a sonogram of Mom’s stomach, like a cross between a video and an X-ray. He moved the camera around Mom’s belly and we all stared at this monitor. We could see the baby.

It was the most awesome thing. He held his little johnson like he was playing with himself, and everyone in the room laughed. The doctor goes, “It’s definitely a boy,” and Berm got all mushy. I did too, but kept it to myself. Berm actually cried and shouted, “It’s a boy!” like 8 times. We got to see his tiny heart beating and count his fingers and toes. At the end it looked like he waved good-bye to us. I said, “See you in a few months,” and everyone laughed, even Amanda.

I wonder whether he’ll look like Mom or Berm. I hope Mom, for his sake. And whether he’ll get all excited when I come home from school. Maybe he’ll clap his hands or drool or something when he sees me. Maybe his first word will be Mike. That would be so cool. I should secretly teach him my name every day until he can say it.

Maybe he’ll be as smart as me, and I’ll lend him my favorite books when he gets older, and we can have big intellectual discussions about them while Sydney admires the bond between Captain Sensitive and his brother Lieutenant Compassion.

His nickname will be Lieutenant, but his real name will be Mason. Mason Pomerantz Berman sounds excellent. I’ll try to get Mom and Berm to name him Mason.

I know he’ll be a pain in the ass, waking me up all the time and stinking up the house with his dirty diapers. But seeing him today, live, made me think about the good parts of having a little brother. I won’t be the youngest anymore, not by a long shot. And I can play with him. Like give him shoulder rides. When he gets older, I’ll explain girls to him. As best I can anyway. I could even teach him about kissing now, and how to drive. Just like Amanda taught me her Cardinal Rules of Dating, I’ll think up my own Cardinal Rules of Life.

When I asked Dad to change the time he sees me so I could bowl in the league, I didn’t expect him to say no. Just like the driving lessons. I always thought that because he’s my dad he should be a certain way. That he should
want
to take me driving and stuff.

Maybe I’ve been watching too many
Brady Bunch
reruns. Maybe that’s the real problem with TV. It’s not the sex and violence. It’s that there aren’t any crappy parents on the air. So anyone with crappy parents in real life thinks they must be doing something wrong.

But they’re not. It’s not their fault. Look at Nate. He’s not a bad guy, but his dad practically disappeared on him. And even Mom. She gets all stressed cleaning and cooking every time Grandma comes over, but Grandma disses her no matter what.

So I realized something tonight. Not just tonight. It was dawning on me for a long time. Duke helped me figure it out. This is what I know now: It’s not about me. About how I am. It’s just how he is. It’s that Dad is selfish, not that I’m unlikeable. I bet even if I was star pitcher of the varsity team, he’d still say he couldn’t switch times to see me, that Sunday at 6:30 was the only time he could do it.

So I’m joining Berm’s Sunday night bowling league. If Dad can’t find another time for our visits, then he’ll have to wait until the league is over. I told him that too. When he said, “I don’t know if I can arrange that, Champ,” I just answered, “Then it’s your loss.” Which I know now is true.

I also know that even if he moves the visit times for me and leaves his bimbo delights at home, things won’t change that much. He’ll still show up late and take me to trendy restaurants and not bother to learn the names of my friends. I know that’s just how he is.

Strange, but as I’m typing this, I’m feeling better. Like I was in the smoggiest part of L.A. and now I’m breathing ocean air in San Diego. Or like I felt last week after I got up the nerve to kiss Sydney and she kissed me back. Like I really am the star pitcher of the varsity team and Dad’s some assistant coach who didn’t want to let me play.

Mom’s getting married tomorrow. I guess you’re supposed to feel pissed off when your mom gets married to someone who’s not your dad. But I’m not mad. I kept trying to feel pissed off today, but I couldn’t. I guess Berm’s grown on me.

 

 

I don’t know what it is. Probably a combination of things. Old Berm just got to me during the last 9 months. Like
Invasion of the Body Snatchers,
but in a good way.

Mom and Berm tied the knot today. It wasn’t a big fancy wedding. They had the ceremony in the backyard and lunch afterward in the house. The only people there were the rabbi, our family, Nate, Formerly Bulimic Michele, Aunt Marsha and her girlfriend, Grandma, Lester from the bowling league and his wife, and Berman’s older sister, who flew in from New York.

Berm’s sister is kind of chunky like him. I wonder whether Mason will get Berm’s fat genes or the Pomerantz skinny genes. Hopefully he’ll get a mixture and be just right.

Last night I had this deranged dream that when Rabbi Markowitz did the Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace speech, Dad jumped over the backyard fence and said he wanted Mom back, that he wanted all of us back, that he missed living with Mom and me and Amanda. Then Berm took out a giant dental drill and nailed him right in the forehead, making Dad fall backward into the wedding cake.

I woke up all sweaty. I guess you never totally get over wanting your parents back together, even if you just have bizarro dreams about it. The rabbi didn’t even do that speech. Maybe he was worried Grandma would scream out a ton of objections.

I don’t think Grandma smiled once. Amanda said it was hard to tell what freaked Grandma out more—Mom waddling down the aisle in her maternity dress, or Aunt Marsha dancing with her girlfriend after the ceremony.

Amanda stayed in her room with Formerly Bulimic Michele until right before the ceremony started. But once she came down, she acted pretty decent. She didn’t even bring a paperback with her. Me and her were Beast Man and Maid of Horror, as Amanda calls it.

After lunch, she made a toast. She said how Berman was good to Mom, and even though they were both old, they seemed like teenagers in love.

I wonder if it was just bull. Maybe Amanda decided that since she’s leaving for college in a few months anyway, she might as well act nice.

After Amanda’s toast, everyone stared at me. So I stood up and wished Mom and Berm luck. Then I joked that they wanted to make sure of their fertility before they tied the knot. That didn’t go over too well. Grandma even closed her eyes and put her hand on her forehead like she had a migraine. Then I said how Mom seemed real happy now, and I gave her a hug.

I was about to sit down, but something came over me. I went over to Berm and hugged him too. He hugged me back like I was his long-lost son just returned from the war.

Then something else made me do more of the toast. Maybe it was just a way to get out of that long hug. Not really though. I faced everyone and said, “And as for Dr. Berman, if I had to have a stepdad, I couldn’t do much better than Berm.” It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but people did that isn’t-he-a-cute-kid laugh. Totally annoying. It’s true though. I really doubt I could do better than Berm. If I had to have a stepdad.

After all that, it was a relief to go to my room with Nate and drink the leftover champagne he’d swiped from the kitchen. Nate wants me and Sydney to fix him up with someone on the swim team. Not a diver. According to Nate, 87% of all divers are lezbos. But swimmers are supposed to be easy.

I doubt Sydney is easy though. I think she’s a virgin. I hope she is. What if she isn’t, and she’s sick of just making out with me? Probably once you do the deed, you can never go back to just kissing. She seems to really like just kissing. I bet she’s a virgin.

I’m going to call Sydney right now and tell her about the wedding and stuff. We’ve talked to each other 7 out of the last 9 nights. Tomorrow we’re going back to the Boys and Girls Club. I’m teaching this 7th grader Scrabble fundamentals. I wonder if Sydney could be considered my girlfriend. That would be cool.