List of Ten

by Halli Gomez

  We walked to the corner, made a right, went down the street for a few minutes, then uphill to a wooded park. Smart move to hand me the napkins. After the ten-count-bend-downs, the sodas would have been extra shaken.

  We turned into a park, which was really a forest with a few worn paths. The only light was from the moon, and even that was dim. We stuck to one path and crunched on dead leaves as it led us deeper into the woods until the trees cleared and we stood in front of huge rocks. It was like the Stonehenge of Virginia.

  Diego put the pizzas on a short rock, then climbed the bigger ones. I climbed up behind him to the top. It was corny, but I spread my arms, lifted my head, and let the cold air settle around me. For a second, I felt free.

  Jay put the drinks down and pulled out the bag. I jumped down and watched as he broke dried leaves off the twigs and sprinkled them in the crease of a rolling paper. Then, like a pro, he rolled it into a perfect cigarette.

  We sat in a preschool version of a circle. Me and Khory, Diego and Rainn, and Jay close, but not too close.

  “Okay, who’s first?” Jay lit the joint, took a drag, and held it to Rainn.

  She took a drag and passed it to Diego. He took one, then gave it to Khory. I studied how they did it. I didn’t want to be like the kid in the movies who barfed on his girlfriend’s shoes. Khory took a small inhale, held it for a couple seconds, then exhaled. Seemed easy enough. She held it out for me, and I did what she did. Smoke went down my throat. I coughed, then turned away and cleared my throat. No puke. Hooray! I passed it to Jay.

  “You’re going to like this,” Khory said.

  I pulled her close to me. The joint came back to us. I did better this time, no choking or coughing. When I leaned forward to pass it to Jay, my head felt fuzzy, lightheaded, and more so after each turn. The rocks appeared to be soft like pillows, and the trees swayed even though the air was still. I studied my friends and started to giggle.

  “How you feeling, dude?” Jay asked.

  I inspected myself, studied my fingers and hands, and stretched my neck. It didn’t hurt. My shoulder blade, nothing. I lifted my arms. They were weightless. I was pain-free.

  “Awesome,” I said.

  I tried to squeeze my hand into a fist, but it didn’t want to. A tic didn’t want to. My hand fell open on my leg. I leaned against a rock, and the rest of my body went limp. Having no control over my muscles was nothing new, but most of the time they were tense and in motion. Now all my body wanted to do was relax and be still. This was an entirely new sensation.

  Khory snuggled next to me. I breathed in coconut mixed with the sweetness of pot. That made me giggle, too.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Just smelling your hair,” I admitted, then put my head down. “It’s nice.”

  She tilted her head to me. Not caring who was watching, I bent toward her and kissed her.

  “Get a room guys,” Diego said.

  “If your dad knew what you were doing Troy, he’d lock us all in jail,” Jay said.

  “Maybe just you guys. He’d kill me.”

  Khory’s muscles tensed. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay. We’re here.” And nothing could hurt us.

  . . . . . . . . . .

  On the way home, Jay and I drove with the windows open while I sprayed air freshener. It was eleven fifteen. Hopefully Dad and Terri were asleep, or at least in their room. Our efforts didn’t completely mask the smell, and I was sure they’d recognize it immediately.

  I opened the front door, ran to my room for my pajamas, then locked myself in the bathroom.

  Knock, knock. “Troy?”

  Phew! Just made it. “Yeah, Dad. I’m home, just getting ready for bed.”

  “Okay, see you in the morning.”

  I sighed and stared in the mirror. My neck twitched. My hands clenched together, fingernails dug into my palm. Repeat. I counted to ten, bent down, and touched the tile floor. Then I grabbed my hair and pulled as hard as I could. They were back in full force, and all at one time.

  Trying to hurt yourself was like tickling yourself. It never worked. No matter how hard I dug my fingernails into my palms, they wouldn’t bleed. But that didn’t stop me from trying. I bent my finger back waiting for a crack. That didn’t come either. The only thing that did was tears. A lot of them. And the realization that those wonderful pain-free hours were all I would get.

  I went back to my room, crawled into bed, and pulled the blanket over my body. I inhaled, but I’d washed off Khory’s sweet smell along with the pot. I grabbed my phone and opened my list. Tonight definitely qualified as pain-free. I checked off number three.

  1. Meet someone with Tourette syndrome—COMPLETED

  2. Get my first kiss—COMPLETED

  3. Be pain-free—COMPLETED

  4. Find a babysitter for my baby brother—IN PROGRESS

  5. See the space shuttle—MARCH 20?

  6. Talk about Tourette in public

  7. Give away my Tim Howard autographed picture

  8. Drive a car

  9. Talk to Mom

  10. Commit suicide

  Then I closed my eyes and pictured Khory curled up on the couch watching the movie about kids with cancer. How would she feel when her boyfriend died?

  MARCH 15

  Monday mornings sucked more than the Batman v Superman movie, Mrs. Hill’s geography tests, and Bradley’s messy, crooked desk. I refused to open my eyes, even to pour milk in my cereal, and acknowledge whoever entered the kitchen and banged around the coffee machine.

  Milk dripped down my chin, and I breathed in the aroma of coffee that was now across the table from me. I wished I liked the taste, because a shot of caffeine would have been extremely helpful.

  “Good morning,” Dad said.

  “Morning,” I mumbled.

  My eyes were still closed, but my ears must have been wide-awake, because they caught three sighs and four throat clearings. Way more than just the normal getting your voice to work after being silent for eight hours.

  I forced myself to open my eyes. Dad’s hands were wrapped around his coffee cup, and he stared at the steam like he was waiting for it to reveal the location of the holy grail.

  Did I want to know what was on his mind? If it was good, he’d just spit it out. Did he smell the pot? I knew the air freshener wouldn’t work. My neck was fully awake now and twitched ten times in a row. My hand squeezed, and the cereal fell off the spoon.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I cleared my schedule for next weekend. I thought we could see the space shuttle and make a weekend out of it.”

  “Really? Awesome! Thanks.”

  “And what would you think about Khory and Mr. Price joining us?”

  Spending a whole weekend with Khory? “Oh yeah!” I said. Pieces of shredded wheat and milk flew out of my mouth. “Sorry.”

  “And about Khory, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  My neck twitched. I knew seeing the space shuttle wasn’t the thing freaking him out.

  “Now that you have a girlfriend, we need to talk about sex.”

  Dad kept his eyes on me like he needed to stress how serious this was, but his hands fidgeted with his coffee cup, and he had the beginning of a sweat mustache. If I wasn’t on the receiving end of this, it would have been comical.

  “Dad, let me save you the trouble.” And humiliation for both of us. “They taught us all about it in health.” And you didn’t have to actually be involved with someone to hear things. Didn’t he ever ride the school bus?

  “I know, but I want to make sure you have all the correct information.”

  “I’m in tenth grade. It’s a little too late to be questioning the education system.”

  “Please Troy, this is hard enough, if you can’t tell.”

  “Sorry, go ahead. But I have to be at the bus stop in twenty-five minutes, and I’m not ready yet.”

  Dad let out a big exhale. “
The most important thing is that you treat Khory, and any future girlfriends, with respect. Sex is not a game or a tool. You don’t use someone just for that.”

  I nodded and took another mouthful of cereal. I got it. Respect.

  “Now I’m not recommending you go out and have sex, because you are still young and this is your first relationship, but if it does come to that, make sure it’s what you both want.”

  “I will.”

  “So you know the basics right? Intercourse, penis, vagina?”

  I practically choked on a wheat square. “Dad, really? We don’t have to do this. I know what all the parts are and where they go.”

  He nodded and wiped his upper lip. “What about blow jobs? Of course that’s the slang term.”

  I dropped my spoon in the bowl and balled up my napkin. My appetite had officially disappeared.

  “We learned that, too.” I would have proved it by saying the technical names, but I couldn’t remember them.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive. And if I have any questions, I’ll ask.”

  “Then just one more thing.” He put three square plastic wrappers on the table. I prayed they were the hand wipes that came with rib dinners, but we hadn’t had ribs in weeks. Dad was sharing his condoms with me. This was something I’d never recover from.

  “So to be clear—”

  “Respect and condoms.” I stood up and brought my bowl to the sink before he decided I didn’t get it and needed more details. “Thanks for the talk Dad, but I have to finish getting ready.”

  He sighed and took his first sip of coffee.

  “And thanks for making time for the trip. It means a lot to me.”

  That brought a smile to his face. At least someone would have happy thoughts this morning.

  . . . . . . . . . .

  After Terri left for work, I sat by the living-room window and waited for Mrs. Price to drop Khory off. Her parents said she could come over for a few hours after school today. To work on homework only. If we didn’t get all our homework done, they’d know we wasted our time doing who-knows-what, even though they knew exactly what that was, and Khory wouldn’t be allowed to come over again.

  My stomach was queasier than if I’d ridden a roller coaster. I wasn’t sure if it was from her coming over or the visuals from Dad’s sex talk that continuously invaded my brain.

  The silver Mazda pulled into the driveway. Khory got out of the front passenger seat, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and practically skipped to the front door. I let her in and made sure to lock it. As soon as her mom drove away, she let me know the rest of the rules.

  “Make sure all the doors are locked, no going out, except to the backyard, and absolutely no going in your bedroom.” Khory winked at me. “So that means I want to see it.”

  A girl in my room? I would have bet a million dollars against myself of that ever happening. My neck twitched ten times. Twenty times. One, two, three, four, five, six. Did I just say sex? Seven, eight, nine, ten.

  “Let me check it first to make sure there’s no dirty underwear on the floor.” I was getting better at this conversation thing, and it helped hide the fact that I was freaking out. Except the tics didn’t let me hide anything. And did I count out loud?

  I ran to my room. Of course, it was clean. I had no idea what a cool room looked like, but I bet it didn’t involve posters of the solar system and rockets put up by an eight-year-old.

  “Knock knock.” Khory walked in, stood in the center, and turned in a circle. “It’s like outer space in here. This is great!”

  “Well, I figured this was the next best thing to being there.”

  Khory moved to the bookcase. “I didn’t realize you were such a big reader.”

  “I used to be. I didn’t go out much, so I read a lot. I still don’t go out much, but now I play video games.” I took her hand and pulled her close to me. “Video games are very important for hand-eye coordination, problem-solving skills, and teamwork.”

  She laughed and stared in my eyes. I kissed her before my body melted into a pool of sludge, then rubbed my hands on her back. They squeezed her shirt. If she noticed, she didn’t mind.

  Her body fell into mine, and then . . .

  Jude cried from across the hall.

  “Damn,” I said.

  We moved away from each other, and Khory followed me to his room. He peered over my shoulder and smiled a big four-tooth grin.

  “Khory’s going to hang out with us today.” I lifted him out of the crib and laid him on the changing table.

  “Hi, Jude. Did you have a nice nap?” she asked.

  I changed his diaper and grabbed the blanket. We went to the family room. Khory sat on the floor next to him and took trucks and blocks out of the toy box while I got our backpacks. We had to get our homework done. Our parents would never believe we spent the whole time playing with a baby. Their minds were really inappropriate. I sat with my math book open on my lap and watched them stack blocks.

  “I wonder if my parents would let me babysit,” she said. “Do you still want to find one?”

  “Yes. I was thinking that same thing. About you babysitting.” It wasn’t just for me, but it seemed no shadow could dim the light that covered her face right now. One step on her list for survival and another step on my list for death.

  “You never told me why you can’t babysit anymore. Are you bored with this job, or is there some hidden terror you’re not telling me?”

  I rubbed Jude’s hair. I’d never get tired of being with him. “Well, one time he had explosive diarrhea. But that’s it. Really.”

  She crinkled her nose.

  “I’m going to see my mom, but the plane tickets are serious money, so I’m going to work some odd jobs. Walk dogs, cut grass kind of thing.”

  “Too bad Dad won’t let anyone touch the grass. Just think, if we both made money, one day we could go on a real date, you know, to the outside world. Somewhere nicer than Taco Bell.” She sighed and brought her knees to her chest, but the light didn’t fade. “Being allowed to go places without a chaperone feels really good. I love the freedom. I don’t want to be all talk like, yeah, I’m going to travel the world but not actually do it.”

  “It’s good to start small. Restaurants. Movies. Work up to the big things.”

  “You’re right.” She sat up straight. “I’ll be brave. I’ll be like the Katniss of babysitting.”

  Her attitude was addictive. “Yeah, and I’ll be like the Peeta of . . . something.”

  Khory pulled Jude onto her lap. I leaned against the couch, pulled out my phone, and opened to my list.

  “Don’t take my picture. I look terrible!” Khory grabbed the phone from my hand.

  I gasped. My list. I lunged at her and snatched it back.

  She stared at me. Eyes wide. Her mouth open. She probably wanted to ask what the hell I’d just done. I prayed she didn’t. How would I explain it? I dropped my arm by my side and clicked the button to close the notes.

  “You have an actual list? I thought it was just ideas, like one day I want to see the space shuttle.”

  “Well, you know I like organization,” I said and bowed my head. That was the first time I used my obsession as an excuse.

  She reached her hand out. “Can I see it? The list?”

  “No way, too embarrassing.” I didn’t care how many times she flipped her hair. “It’s really no big deal. I already told you the stuff on there. See the space shuttle, find my mom, those kinds of things.”

  “Then show me.”

  I stuck the phone in my backpack. Her eyes followed it until it was out of sight. She frowned.

  I put my head down. It wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t thrilled for her to know that in my entire life I never expected to get more than a kiss.

  “Okay, fine, don’t show me,” she said. “But at least tell me what brave act you’re going to do?”

  Even I knew that “okay, fine” meant something different when sai
d by a girl with her lips pressed together. Just like she knew I was hiding something. And for a girl to think her boyfriend had a secret was deadly.

  I went through the list in my mind. Driving. Telling people about the Tourette. I’d already missed a bunch of opportunities for that one. Really, how difficult could it be to talk to a bunch of smart-phone-addicted kids who didn’t pay attention anyway?

  And Khory. We sort of talked about it already when I mentioned Mom. So why was it so hard to say, “Hi, I’m Troy. I have Tourette syndrome.”

  “I’m going to drive,” I said instead. Chicken. “And what makes that list-worthy is that my Dad won’t let me.”

  I grabbed my math notebook and flipped to our assignment. “We have to get this done, remember? I want you to come back.”

  Somehow, between playing with Jude and distracting her from my list, we got our homework done. Okay, we squeaked it out at the very last minute, but everything was finished. At least for her. My dad didn’t give me that ultimatum, so I saved my work for later.

  That wasn’t a good idea now that I was trying to read A Farewell to Arms. I couldn’t stop thinking I’d missed another opportunity to cross something off the list. And it should have been an easy one. If I couldn’t actually say the name Tourette with Khory, what hope did I have with anyone else?

  I sighed. Despite my fear, it had to be done. It was on the list for a reason, and I had to stick to the plan. There was no choice but to stop being a baby, suck it up, and do it. Who cared what the kids said or did? I wouldn’t be around to hear it for much longer. And that concluded my pep talk for this evening. I shut off the light and lay in the dark. Rah, rah, cheer, cheer. I was getting closer.

  MARCH 17

  Khory was going to be the perfect babysitter. She knew it. It was obvious the night she met Jude. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my choice.

  Which brought up two problems. The first was money. Everything came back to that. Money to find Mom, money for Gravity Redefined, and I guess money for my funeral. Not that I needed one. I wouldn’t be there.

  To solve problem number one, Dad had to agree to pay someone to babysit. I didn’t know the current rate, but it had to be more than an iTunes gift card and the occasional twenty-dollar bill he gave me. Which led to the second, and equally humongous, problem.