by Andrew Smith
And the Abernathy joked about it. “Technically, it wasn’t you. Gravity plus your chair gave me a black eye, Ryan Dean.”
I felt sick.
I should have been kicked out of Pine Mountain for what I’d done to Sam Abernathy. And I didn’t answer him when he asked where I was going. I grabbed my book bag and left Unit 113. Then I went out to the parking lot and sat down in the shade to wait for Annie to come back.
I drew something for Sam while I waited there.
CHAPTER FORTY
I FELT A SENSE OF relief, a lightening, when I saw Seanie Flaherty’s Land Rover pull into the parking lot. Annie was with him.
It was almost as though I’d been holding my breath since Friday afternoon and now I could finally take air into my claustrophobic lungs.
And, of course, the first thing Seanie said to me was this: “Dude. Ryan Dean. Nice photo spread of you and your blow-up girlfriend on Nygaard’s blog. By the way, you’re totally hot, Ryan Dean.”
Annie blushed.
That was totally hot.
Then she said, “Yeah, Ryan Dean. What was that all about?”
Of course Annie knew this was one of those things that only—and always—happened to losers like me.
I shook my head. “Spotted John and Cotton Balls are . . . well . . . I suppose Mrs. Blyleven would insist I call them penises, as opposed to what I’d like to call them. ‘Penises’ isn’t swearing, is it, Annie?”
Talking to Annie about penises was also kind of hot.
My brain—Copilot One—was a total mess.
Annie laughed, and then we threw our arms around each other and hugged. It was one of the best feelings ever, especially because there were rarely any official eyes watching PM kids on weekends.
“I missed you so much, Annie.” I was choked up, and she could feel it. It had been one of the worst weekends of my life.
Annie bit my ear and whispered, “I love you. And those pictures were pretty hot.”
That was majorly hot. I mean, the ear-biting thing. Annie had never done anything like that before, and it was completely arousing. I pushed my hips into hers and we kissed long and deep.
I’m sure she felt the . . . um, something that was going on down there with Copilot Two. Annie smiled and said, “Oh my, Ryan Dean!”
Score one for consent!
And then, naturally, Seanie Flaherty had to ruin the moment by saying, “Dude, watching you guys make out is hot and everything, but if you’re thinking I’m going to leave my keys so you can mess up the backseat and lock up for me, you’re both high or something.”
“Oh. Uh, sorry, Annie,” I said.
We were both a little embarrassed. And Seanie Flaherty wouldn’t stop looking at me—at Copilot Two—my crotch, to be specific, which is probably an okay word as far as Mrs. Blyleven was concerned.
Seanie said, “This reminds me, I still have to do my Health homework!”
“You are so gross, Seanie,” I said.
“I’ll bet you five dollars and all those photos of you I printed out from Spotted John’s porn site that you already did yours, Ryan Dean.”
“Shut up, Seanie.”
• • •
Sometimes I could forget everything when I was with Annie Altman.
I guess that’s how you know when someone’s the right person for you, but what do I know? I suppose you could just as easily forget everything when you’re in a fistfight with your worst enemy, too, or when you’re drowning in a freezing lake at three in the morning.
It was such a warm day that as soon as we were out of sight of the campus I took my tank top off and hung it from a tree branch. Annie and I had gone out for a run up to Buzzard’s Roost, although I could barely keep up with her. I’d really lost a lot of my strength. Not eating will do that to you, I guess. I’d have to start forcing myself to do better, or I’d be toast in our rugby match coming up on Thursday.
And maybe that was the key: forcing myself to do better.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. I caught Annie staring at me when I took off my shirt.
She blushed again. So she didn’t only do that for Sam Abernathy. This was an important discovery.
Annie said, “You know, I agree with Seanie. You are pretty hot, Ryan Dean.”
That was twice in one day she called me hot.
“I blame it on the Indian summer affecting your judgment, or maybe they gave you drinks on the plane, Annie. Are you drunk?”
She laughed (that was very hot too), then took off on the trail up into the mountains.
We stopped at the creek, and I washed my face and chest with the cool water. It made me think back to jumping in the lake the night before, and how that seemed like it was another Ryan Dean from some other time, that I almost couldn’t believe it was really me doing that.
Then Annie said, “You want to go swimming?”
Jackpot.
“What?”
“You know. Take off our clothes and go for a swim.”
It felt like my throat was attempting to give birth to a basketball. A square one. With really sharp corners. And coated with Velcro.
I hate Velcro.
“You mean actual skinny-dipping?”
Annie, her eyes all wet with smiles, nodded her head.
That was the first yes. An enthusiastic one at that.
“Only if you want to,” she said.
(Jump-cut to the interior of Ryan Dean West’s head, Copilot One)
RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Interesting. Someone must have had the “consent talk” with your girlfriend.
RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Shut up. She’s your girlfriend too. But is this actually happening? I can’t believe this is actually happening.
RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Stop being such a loser, dude. Tell Annie you want to get naked and go swimming with her. Dude. Score.
RYAN DEAN WEST 1: To be honest, I’m scared.
RYAN DEAN WEST 2: To be brutally honest, it looks like Copilot Two is into the idea, if you know what I mean.
RYAN DEAN WEST 1: (Looks down, mortified) God! I am so embarrassed.
RYAN DEAN WEST 2: Dude, you’ve been thinking about this for years, and now that your girlfriend is actually suggesting you both get naked together, you can’t tell me you’re actually going to chicken out.
RYAN DEAN WEST 1: I . . . I . . .
(Jump-cut to the exterior of Ryan Dean West’s head: a scene by a creek)
“I want to if you want to,” I said.
That was an awful lot of conditional wanting going on there.
I kneeled down to undo the laces on my shoes. I tried thinking about baseball and stamp collecting, with a little bit of risotto preparation and gardening thrown in just to make Copilot Two lower the altitude a bit on Ryan Dean West Airlines Flight 0001, but he was having some serious control issues, and Copilot One, like I said, was in no condition to fly my plane.
I sat on the ground and removed my shoes and socks and watched Annie Altman undress beneath the trees right in front of me.
Oh my God. This is real, and Annie is really taking off her top right in front of me, and this is the scariest and most thrilling thing I have ever done, and oh my God, I never knew Annie wore a blue bra when she ran, because I never knew what bras were actually for, anyway, and OH MY GOD, she’s taking it off and I actually see Annie’s breasts and they are so beautiful, I want to kiss them everywhere, and her tummy, too, and OH MY GOD she is taking off her shorts—and why do girls wear so many clothes when they run, because boys can get away with nothing but running shorts, if they have a support liner, that is, otherwise Copilot Two would experience some extreme turbulence, and Annie has the hottest little panties on—and OH. MY. GOD. Annie Altman is completely naked and I can’t take my eyes off of her everything and she has the most perfect pubic hair that looks so soft, and do I really have to stand up now???
I felt every pulse of my heart pumping blood as thick as mashed potatoes up through my neck.
I stood up.
It w
as embarrassing, even though I knew that Annie and I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Then I pulled down my shorts and stepped out of them, and we were both completely naked, standing there beside our running trail next to the creek.
I had never been naked in front of a girl in my life. Well, except for my mom. But I never wanted to think about that again.
I kept my hands at my sides as much as I wanted to cover myself up.
Annie took a deep breath. “Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“You’re a lot, um, bigger than I thought.”
“You thought about how big I was?”
She smiled.
“Well, you’re a lot more beautiful than I ever imagined. Way more.”
“You imagined this?”
“One or two times. Hundred, I mean. Maybe thousands. If I had some alone time in the bathroom.”
When I said “alone time,” I made air quotes.
Annie laughed and held out her hand. “Are we going in, or what?”
To be honest, I would have preferred the “or what,” considering there weren’t too many whats out there involving the two of us being alone and naked together, and the “going in” part meant water. Cold water. Again. I took Annie’s hand, and, carefully, we walked to the edge of the creek.
We got in up to our ankles. Honestly, that was deep enough for me.
“This water is so cold, it hurts,” Annie said.
“I’d guess that going all the way in is going to hurt a lot, then.”
“Well, this counts as skinny-dipping together, right, Ryan Dean? Because you’re the first boy I’ve ever skinny-dipped with.”
“It counts for me,” I said. And I was so relieved I wasn’t going to have to endure Copilot Two making a water landing. There had to be icebergs in that goddamned creek. And the cold water . . . just, no. Copilot Two’s jet would have become a hang glider. Maybe a box kite. Copilot One did not want to deal with that.
Then Annie said, “I love you.”
“I love you so much, Annie. Who else in the world would I ever get naked with and stand in a freezing creek?”
“Probably anybody, Ryan Dean.”
I shook my head. “Not Spotted John.”
We both laughed.
Annie Altman and I stood in the water, completely naked, holding hands. I realized I trusted her more than anyone I had ever known.
“Annie? Would it be all right if I kissed you?”
Consent Boy, great American superhero.
“Yes,” she said.
That was enthusiasm as far as I was concerned.
So we kissed. Our assorted parts touched. In fact, I touched her everywhere, and she touched me everywhere too.
And I forgot everything in the magnificent wonder of this pinpoint moment.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I’LL COME RIGHT OUT AND say it: Annie Altman and I didn’t actually have sex that day.
Well, to be honest, we kind of did, but it wasn’t the kind of sex that could bring about what might have been a June6 surprise for us and our parents, and for everyone else attending the Pine Mountain graduation ceremony for that matter. Don’t get me wrong, we definitely wanted to have that kind of sex, but since condoms are not something you normally carry along in your running shorts (Annie did have ChapStick, though), we both agreed that that kind of sex was out of the question.
Consent Boy strikes again.
But Annie taught me things about places where girls like to be touched, which I never knew about, and we both liked that part very much. And I showed Annie how to give me a TE (without the S). Don’t judge—it was a lot more fun and felt much nicer than doing the S version alone in my shower room. That was something Mrs. Blyleven and the cartoon TSE Fox failed to point out to us boys in Health class. But when Annie put her hands on me, it made Copilot Two order an emergency evacuation of the passengers, so afterward there was a bit of washing off in the icy creek that couldn’t be avoided.
It was fun. It was the nicest thing I had ever felt in my life.
So there. I told you.
We lay on our backs in the grass beside the creek, staring up at the sky through the treetops. Annie rested the back of her neck in my armpit, so her hair tickled my chin. We didn’t bother to put on our clothes yet. Neither of us wanted to.
“Thank you for that, Annie. I’ve never . . .”
Annie put her fingers on my belly. “I never have either, Ryan Dean. It was nice.”
I said, “Next time, Copilot One is going to remember to bring some condoms.”
“Copilot One?”
I pointed at my forehead. “My upstairs brain.”
“You have condoms?”
“Yeah. Remember? My mom gave them to me last year. Awkward.”
“My mom gave me a box of them just this weekend,” Annie said. “We had a long talk.”
So that’s where the whole let’s-go-swimming-naked-together idea came from. Thanks, Doc Mom (which is what I called Annie’s mom)!
“You had a safe-sex talk about me? That’s superawkward, Annie.”
“Not about you. Just a talk. In general. But I knew my mom was really talking to me about you, Ryan Dean.”
“Generally speaking,” I said.
Thinking about Annie and her mom—who was incredibly hot—talking about condoms and having sex and me was really hot, but I wasn’t about to say that to Annie. Copilot One was back in charge, while Copilot Two took a well-deserved nap.
“I like you very much, Ryan Dean West,” Annie said.
“Thank you, Annie Altman. I think you’re pretty swell.”
“I’d be so lonely here without you.”
“I . . .” And that was all I could get out of my mouth, because I was so strangled by emotions that nothing else would come.
Why did Annie have to say that? It was almost the exact thing Sam Abernathy had said to me yesterday before I melted down, and now all I could think about was the black eye I gave the Abernathy and about Nate wanting to suffocate me at night, and how afraid of everything I’d become. I also was suddenly self-conscious and ashamed of what Annie and I had done together.
It was happening again, another panic attack out of the blue at the worst possible time—while I was lying down naked in the grass with Annie. I forced myself to concentrate on not being scared.
Think about Annie. Think about Annie.
I was shaking.
“What’s wrong?”
Annie could feel the tightening spasms in my chest.
I am not going to cry in front of Annie. I am not going to cry in front of Annie. I am not going to cry in front of Annie.
It all came rushing at me: I was terrified at the thought of trying to go to sleep that night, and especially of having to face Sam Abernathy again. I was such an asshole. And I was an asshole to Annie, too. I was going to ruin her life, and I couldn’t let myself do that to her.
“Ryan Dean. Are you crying?”
I squirmed out from under Annie’s head and sat up. I took a deep breath.
“I don’t know what’s up with me. Um. I think we better get dressed.”
I rubbed my eyes and kept my face turned away from her while we put our clothes on.
Annie said, “Did I do something wrong?”
“You’re the most perfectly right thing in the world for me, Annie. I’m sorry I’m such a disgusting mess.”
The run was over. We held hands and walked out of the woods, toward the trail leading back to school. Holding on to Annie’s hand was like a lightning rod for me—it kept me safe and grounded so I didn’t get lost in the panic.
I could breathe again.
“Well. When my mom and I weren’t talking about you and about having sex and using condoms, I told her I was worried about you, Ryan Dean.”
I felt myself tightening up again. I knew where this was going, and I did not want to talk about it.
Annie continued, “You know, we have a psychologist
here at school. Mrs. Dvorak. Lots of kids go to see her. You can imagine how tough it is for some kids to adjust to being here.”
I shook my head. “I’ll be okay, Annie.”
“She’s really nice, you know. I’ve gone to see her.”
“About what?”
I couldn’t imagine Annie Altman ever needing help from anyone.
“Last year. It was about you. Mrs. Dvorak helped me trust how I felt about you.”
I’d never met her, but I thought I owed a silent prayer of thanks to Mrs. Dvorak.
We stopped at the tree where I’d hung my tank top. Now we were both just as dressed as when we’d left—like nothing had ever happened. Even if what Annie and I did was the biggest thing that had ever happened in my pathetic life, and now I was all confused and embarrassed—guilty—about what we’d done.
“So. What do you think? Do you think you’ll go see her?” Annie asked when we were back on the main campus grounds.
“Could we just not talk about this right now, Annie? Today was so nice, and I don’t want to do this right now. Please?”
Annie let go of my hand. She folded her arms across her chest. I imagined seeing her without her clothes on. I would never get that picture out of my mind.
But Annie was mad.
“Fine, Ryan Dean. Fine.”
And just like that, Annie Altman turned her back without saying another word and walked off toward the girls’ dorm.
“Hey! Annie?”
She kept walking.
What could I say? I felt like I’d been kicked in the balls, and I was scared to go back to Unit 113.
* * *
6. It was September. So I think I’m doing the math right.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“THANKS FOR THE COMIC, RYAN Dean! It’s awesome!”
I was hoping—unreasonably—that the Abernathy wouldn’t be there when I got back to our room. I’d left a note for him—the comic I’d drawn while waiting for Annie—as some kind of means for apologizing beyond just saying I’m sorry, which didn’t feel adequate.
So I’m not sure if it was knowing that Sam Abernathy had read my comic, which was kind of personal (and it was thumbtacked to the wall above his bed), or thinking about what Annie and I had just done an hour ago, and being here in the same room with a twelve-year-old kid, but I felt my face getting hot and damp with embarrassment.
