Which of course is how we get to Burn and his first kiss.
My last year in middle school was not an easy one academically speaking. I had just about decided to give up on learning. My grades continued to plummet, even with a tutor, and my mom decided that I was going to have to go through more testing to see why I wasn’t learning.
It was increasingly difficult to sit and read when you knew for sure that no matter how hard you tried to get it, you could think all the facts are in your head, and then the test comes and you know that you knew more than say Bosco, but then he gets like a C+ and you get a C–.
And everybody knew Bosco was an idiot. So what did that make me?
I continued to laugh it off, but mostly it sucked. So I didn’t think it was such a bad idea, my mom trying to find another doctor who could help me study. Except she got busier at the real estate office, which meant less time around the house, which meant no way was I going to do my homework when no one was standing over me requiring it to be done.
So winter became spring and pretty much the back end of eighth grade was devoted to video games, not learning, baseball, playing with Medusa, and internet porn. And while some teachers expressed little hope for me, by some form of magic I managed to do just well enough to get through the school year, although in my mind, the only reason to go to school at all was to see my friends.
And then there was this party at Stephanie Coogan’s house in early May that changed things for most of us. Changed things because we (as in me, Evan, and Pete) got to see real breasts for the first time (this by accident, so I won’t reveal the circumstances); and also, there was alcohol there, and most of us got wasted for the first time, and also got to see weed up close for the first time, although none of us actually sampled it back then.
Also I got to actually make out with Stephanie’s sister Hailey, who was a year older than us and did it on a dare from her friends (whatever it takes . . . ).
Also April Walker apparently . . . (And I hesitate to write this since I didn’t see it myself, but since it figures into what happens next, has to be said.) April Walker apparently gave two kids BJs.
April was this gawky girl who, sometime during eighth grade, was beginning to not be so gawky anymore, and just as people were starting to notice the change in the way she looked, she was starting to be a little “out there.” She was always out there on account of having some kind of learning disability, but up until eighth grade, she was, let’s just say, not very popular (as in most people didn’t even know her name), and then suddenly, there was a buzz, as in, did you see April, did you see what she was wearing?
And now, she apparently chose Stephanie’s party to change her image.
Problem was, word got out. Which meant that like every parent in town was doing the twilight bark the next day until virtually every adult heard about the party at the Coogans’ house.
My mother called me into her room, one hand still holding the phone, and asked, was I there at Stephanie’s house? (She didn’t know since I slept over at Pete’s that night.) What did I see? (I wasn’t about to tell her about the actual naked breasts.) And was I involved in any drinking or sexual activity? Of course, I told her hell no (even though I probably drank the most of my friends and actually got a make-out kiss). And surprisingly, she dropped the entire conversation after that, apparently because my name didn’t come up during her phone call.
As to the making-out, it was no big thing as Hailey basically just did it to me for like ten seconds when I ran into her alone in her kitchen, and by the time I knew what was going on, it was over. Still, it totally left me spinning with new possibilities. So much so that the day after the party, all I was pretty much thinking was, how was I going to even talk to Hailey again, since she was older and not even in my school. I couldn’t call her, couldn’t IM her, couldn’t ask Lindsey, who was, in fact, a year older than Hailey, so I had to put it out of my head, or tried to, but it was difficult because the story about the party and April’s antics was superbig news, and even the principal got involved and decided to have a meeting with parents to talk about what they called “adolescent experimentation.”
Which happened on a Thursday. All of the parents, including my mom, went to the meeting and came back with questionnaires and pamphlets for us to read (right, as if every kid was going to stop being a kid because of some kind of magic brochure, ha). My mom tried to sit me down to talk about this, but a few eye rolls later, she gave up, saying that she knew that she had to “choose her battles” with me.
Yeah, whatever. By then, most of the time when we argued, my mom gave up, saying that she had to choose her battles.
Then the next night, a Friday night, was some kind of big basketball event at the high school. I wanted to go since I was hoping to be on the high school team, even though my game was struggling in middle school and I didn’t have many minutes of playing time during actual games.
It was a warm night, like summer, so we were outside, and a few of Lindsey’s friends came over, saying that they heard I was a good kisser and did I want to try it with them. So we went around to the side of the school and I hooked up with two of them, each for not long, one of which tasted like cigarettes.
Lindsey found out on Saturday. “Stay away from my friends” was all she said to me.
But her friends were always at the house and apparently wanted to practice kissing with me, so I worked out an arrangement that they could if I could, you know, get to second base. And most said no, but one said OK.
So a few weeks later, I was on the baseball field, another game. Actually, it was the fourth inning against the Red Sox, and after pitching the first three, I was benched, so I left the dugout and wandered over to the Porta-Pottys, and guess who shows up?
No, not Burn . . . Actually, technically, a Burnett though, as in Roxanne.
“Heard you’re a frickin’ make-out machine, Kirshunsky.” Another intentional mispronunciation, which I found entirely entertaining. I wondered whether she ever did this to Lindsey.
She looked unusually out there, even for Roxanne. She had dyed a blue streak in her hair, and she was dressed in all goth clothes and Converse sneakers.
“I guess.”
“Cool sunglasses. What are you, a pitcher or a catcher?” She laughed, like she was finding herself funny, which she usually was.
“Sometimes,” as in baseball, I was both.
“Oooooh,” she said, “that’s hot.” And of course, I didn’t know what was so hot about it.
“You promised I would be your first,” she continued. “And now I find out about Hailey Coogan.”
“She told you?”
“We are in the same high school.” Which wasn’t an actual answer. “Are you any good at it?”
“OK, I guess.”
She stepped in toward me and, with a graceful sweep of her hand, knocked my baseball cap off and pulled me close to her, with her hands around my back. Then she opened her mouth into mine and pulled me closer, so I could feel the warmth of her entire body. And the curves, all of them. With her tongue practically dancing in my mouth at the same time.
And then letting go.
“Forget it. Hailey is a much better kisser,” she said, wiping saliva off her face. “You might want to practice some more before I catch you again.” She laughed.
I couldn’t figure out what to say. I was spinning from the closeness and my body’s intense desire to continue what we had been doing. This was an entirely different version of making out than I was used to.
And then she added, “David’s coming back next week. He’s going to be really pissed off when he finds out that you kissed me.” She reached down, swooped up my cap, and tugged it down over my eyes. “Just kidding, Crishansky.” And then she was gone and it was just me and the Porta-Pottys. Spinning.
What was up with that family?
More importantly, when my head finally cleared, I had to wonder, what was up with Burn coming back? Was she kidding about that? Or ab
out telling him about the kiss?
After that experience, making out with Lindsey’s friends was pretty much pointless to me. Although I still kind of liked it, all I thought about during was the way Roxanne moved and whatever her tongue did when she did it.
Anyways, about Burn, I got to find out two weeks later, when Pete’s mom drove me home after baseball. New car in the driveway, a Prius. I eyed it suspiciously, thinking that I overheard my mom talking to Lindsey the night before about her having a date with some guy.
I didn’t expect it to be Mrs. Burnett, sitting at the kitchen counter with my mom. I hadn’t seen her in a long time. She looked different, weird. Short, wavy hair, overly made up, like she was the one with the date. Skinny and fat at the same time.
“David’s up in your room,” my mom said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Heard you made out with my sister,” he said while playing the Indiana Jones game. He looked even older than he did the last time I saw him. Hard core. Short hair, like a marine. He had clearly been working out, was jacked, like, too jacked.
On the screen, Indy was involved in some puzzle that I hadn’t made it to yet, beyond my saved points. Burn was always ruining my saved points.
“Not exactly made out,” I answered him, “as she kind of attacked me.”
“Either way, if it happens again, I will kill you.” This without missing a beat, without looking up from the screen, as Indy swung from vine to vine across treacherous terrain.
By that point, I was used to him telling me that he was going to kill me, and it hardly got my attention this time. However, I wondered which Burn I was dealing with: Too Up? Too Down?
“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again,” I said, although I knew that, given the opportunity, I could not possibly resist, even considering Burn’s death threats.
“Just kidding, Crash. If I had to kill all of the guys Roxanne’s made out with, I would need an M-sixteen,” referencing one of the assault guns that he would later obtain, although neither of us could have possibly guessed that at the time.
“One other thing,” he said. Indy now, strafing along a ledge high above the earth, climbing higher still. “I have to make out with one of your sisters.”
“Take Lindsey,” I said without missing a beat.
“Yeah, right,” he said, still playing. “No, seriously. If not one of your sisters, then one of your girlfriends. Seriously. Roxanne told me you are, like, superpopular with older girls.”
“Where have you been?” I tried changing the subject.
“You don’t want to know.”
“How long are you here for?”
“For good. I’m going to Meadows next year with you,” he said, referring to our high school.
“How come?” I must not have sounded happy. I was thinking that the Burn on my bed was closer to the Burn in elementary school than to the seemingly normal guy who returned for a short while in middle school, only to turn crazy in the lunchroom a few weeks later.
“You seem disappointed,” he said, still playing. He always fucking knew. You had to be careful with every word you said to him, and every single gesture, because he could read something into everything.
“Just surprised is all.” Which was mostly true. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“Moms ran out of money,” he said. “Still waiting for World Trade Center distributions. Plus I am, apparently, certifiably sane now. Point is, I am back. And you still owe me big-time for saving you from the life I have had for the past two years. Plus you made out with my sister. What kind of guy would do that to a friend? And I don’t want to go to high school with people thinking I haven’t made out. So you owe me.”
I looked at this jacked monster on my bed, calling me his friend, and wondered would I have looked like that if Jacob had sent me to military school. I didn’t respond to him, and he took my silence as a yes, because he said, “Good. We start tomorrow night. There’s the play and the party. Do you think kids remember me?”
The middle school production of West Side Story was scheduled to open in the middle school auditorium the following night, and there was supposed to be an after-party in the school gym, supervised, of course, given the town’s new awareness of the “adolescent experimentation” going on in my grade. Virtually everyone was going to be there, which meant that Burn would be an obvious attraction for people who hadn’t seen him since he was escorted out of school, almost two years ago now, a not necessarily positive attraction.
So I quickly figured out that he was counting on me to be his wingman, and a way for him to be accepted by the kids in our grade. My mind flashed back to elementary school, to the kid clutching the fence and Principal Seidman telling me to go over and talk to him. This time, though, I was obsessed with trying to get some girls in my grade to hook up, as this had become an addiction for me after my intoxicating experience with Burn’s sister, driving my desire to find someone else who could duplicate that experience. No question, he would interfere with my plans. But then again, he did save my life, as he reminded me over and over again. So I owed him.
“My mom agreed to drive us,” he said.
“I was going with a couple of the guys.”
“Not according to your mom,” he said. “You have to take Jamie.”
Thing is, I wasn’t actually planning to stay for the entire play, since none of my good friends were in it, just get there, stay until the lights went down, and duck out until the after-party. And while we had Jamie with us, that wasn’t going to be an obstacle, because when Mrs. Burnett dropped us all off at the school, I immediately took care of my obligations by finding some of Jamie’s few friends in the crowd and suggesting that she sit with them. She didn’t seem unhappy about it, and I felt I did my job well, because I noticed a random mom sitting with those other girls, which meant they had supervision.
Well covered, I turned to Burn, who was following me around like a shadow, and said, “Let’s bail.” He said no, we have to stay. Then I spotted a bunch of guys in a cluster, including Leeds, Feinblum, Evan, Kenny, and Mark Duncan. They all nodded at Burn—how’s it going—him nodding back, no one looking him in the eyes. Then they looked at me, with a “what’s he doing here?” look. I figured I should have warned them, but also figured that if I had, they would have bailed on me.
Duncan said he was depressed because there were no good movies coming out for the entire summer, which pretty much meant no Adam Sandler movies since that was all he liked. Feinblum said that he had just seen Shrek 2, and Kenny said he had to take his sister to see Mean Girls, because all of the girls in middle school were all about Mean Girls and she hadn’t seen it yet, and I said that Jamie already saw it and ever since she had been walking around the house talking like one of the Plastics, memorizing entire speeches from the movie, and Feinblum said which one did she imitate, and I said the stupid one and he said Karen.
Burn just stood behind me, looking out of place.
Then Pete came over and right away started staring down Burn, and I totally forgot about the possibility that things were over between them.
“How’s it going, Dave?” Pete said, no letup on the hate stare, no fist extended for the obligatory fist bump.
Burn smiled back. “Learn anything new about panthers since I last saw you?” Totally nonthreatening. This wasn’t much of an apology, but it made us all laugh and things were going to be fine, at least for the moment.
We argued, do we stay, or do we go and come back for the after party?
I can admit now that we all secretly wanted to stay, but, being boys, we couldn’t admit it to ourselves or to each other.
So the play starts, and we are all sitting together when Jamie shows up in my row and wants to sit with me. Only there’s no extra seat so we find a way to share, which means me pushing against Burn on one side, her pushing against Pete on the other, which is OK for her since she likes Pete, but notsomuch for me having to touch Burn.
The lights dim, and the o
rchestra kicks off playing.
And the Jets come out and there’s Richie Krane (forgot he was in it) and a few other kids and Gerry Earnshaw (this was way before his official “I’m gay” announcement, like there was any doubt) and the rest of the Jets, coming out onto the stage, snapping their fingers. And the orchestra is playing along and it all sounds pretty professional to me as they walk across the stage snapping, where on the other side is Ed Wexler, playing Bernardo, looking more gay than menacing.
And this goes on for a while, and Gerry now has to get his buddy Tony (played by equally gay Billy Cobb), and now Billy is just singing for like hours and I whisper to Jamie, “Shoot me, please,” but Jamie is into it and so apparently is Burn, as I look over at him and his eyes are wide open and so is his mouth.
And next scene is Annie Russo playing Anita arguing with Maria. Maria is played by Christina Haines, the kiss-ass from McAllister, and she looks great, but all I can think about is Annie Russo, who is looking freshly sexy in an adult way.
So the next scene is this big dance scene and like every kid who ever wanted to be in drama is now on the stage at the same time, and it goes on and on, and my ADHD is starting to kick in, because my leg starts vibrating and I need to get up, and without thinking about it, I keep kicking the chair in front of me and Jamie asks me to stop.
So does the lady in front of us.
And then suddenly all of the dancers move back behind a screen, except for Christina and Billy, and she steps forward toward the front of the stage. The lights are only on her, and without saying a word she has stopped even me from squirming.
She was no longer Christina to me. She had actually morphed into Maria, the Puerto Rican girl, and she was staring at Billy like he wasn’t Billy and like she recognized him but didn’t know him at all.
And beside me, there was a noise, a snorting noise coming from Burn. Like a bull sound was what I thought. What the fuck was up with him?
Crash and Burn Page 14
