Gina & Mike (The Yearbook Series Book 1)

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Gina & Mike (The Yearbook Series Book 1) Page 4

by Buffy Andrews


  Mike

  I couldn’t wait to tell Gina about my day. I was with my parents at Madison, my dad’s alma mater. I had visited before, but now that I knew for sure I’d be playing ball there on a baseball scholarship, it felt different.

  I got to meet the other recruits along with the rest of the team. I got to see the dorm where the baseball players lived and learned about some of the other cool perks we got. Like being able to register for classes first and being able to study in a special room at the library if we wanted to.

  The only bad part of going to Madison is that I would be so far away from Gina. She had decided on Theodore, a small private university on the other side of the state. We wouldn’t be able to see each other that much. Probably only at holidays. Gina had been looking at Madison, too, but in the end decided that Theodore was a better fit. Theodore was in a more rural setting and the class sizes were small. Unlike the hundreds in a lecture hall at Madison, general elective classes at Theodore had no more than 40 people.

  “So how was it?” Gina asked when I called.

  “Great. The baseball facilities are top-notch.”

  “How about the dorms?”

  “Better than I thought they’d be. There are built-in desks with shelves and closets with lots of storage space. A little small, but it’s not like I’ll be spending a lot of time in it anyhow. Probably just sleep there. What sucks is that we’ll be so far apart.”

  “I know,” Gina said. “But we can call each other and we’ll see each other when we’re home on breaks.”

  “But it’s not going to be the same.”

  Gina changed the subject. She had been doing that a lot lately. And I was beginning to think that maybe going to different colleges was a good thing. I knew deep in my heart that Gina loved me, but the divide that had started in the early spring was growing wider. To be honest, I was not only frustrated but also mad that Gina didn’t do more to stop our relationship from falling apart. I felt like I was the one trying to hold it together, and I was tired of being patient and understanding. I wanted to hold Gina, to make love to her and make her feel the way I used to make her feel. But she wouldn’t let me, and it was killing me.

  “Are we still on for tonight?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. Seven sound good?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Mind if we stop by the mall? I want to pick Coach up a card, thanking him for all he’s done for me this season.”

  There was silence.

  “Gina, are you there?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I heard you. That’s fine. We can stop by the mall.”

  I hated picking out cards. There were too many to choose from. And after awhile they all read the same. But I wanted to find a thank-you card that said exactly what I felt. After all, Coach did a lot for me, and I wanted to let him know how much I appreciated it. I held up a blue card. “What do you think of this one?” I moved it toward Gina so she would take it.

  She held up her hand. “That’s OK. Whichever one you pick I’m sure is fine.”

  I pulled the card back. “What’s with you?”

  “Nothing. I just don’t think I need to read the card.”

  “But I’d like your opinion.”

  Gina sighed and took the card and read it. “It’s good.”

  “Do you like it better than this one?” I handed her another card I had pulled from the rack.

  Gina sighed and grabbed the card from my hand. Her eyes quickly scanned the front and inside. “Either one is fine.”

  You would have thought I had asked Gina to do something horrible. All I wanted was for her to read a card I was buying for Coach. She should be happy that Coach did so much for me. I know she was happy that I got into Madison on a full ride. And since Coach played a huge part in that I would have thought she would be grateful to him.

  “I guess it’s this one then.” I put the gray one back and took the blue one to the cashier.

  ****

  Gina

  I couldn’t believe Mike wanted me to read the stupid thank-you card he was buying for Smith. He kept saying how great he was and how if it hadn’t been for Smith he wouldn’t have gotten into Madison. Wrong. If it hadn’t been for me, Smith wouldn’t have worked his ass off to get Mike into Madison. And if Mike wasn’t so good, it wouldn’t have mattered how hard Smith worked. Mike was giving Smith all of the credit and the truth was, while Smith might have helped because he had to, Mike was the one with the arm.

  I wanted to tell the world what Smith had done. It killed me that Mike thought he was such a great person when I knew the truth. Mike had put the bastard on a pedestal and I wanted to knock him the hell off. But if keeping silent meant Mike was getting what he wanted, than that was the price I had to pay.

  I kept thinking about Pastor Greg’s wilderness sermon, and I wondered how long I’d be in this wilderness. I just couldn’t see through the dense underbrush and thicket to find my way out. Each time I thought I found a bit of a clearing, trees would fall around me, blocking my path and causing me to sink deeper in the mire. It was like those dreams I used to have as a child where I was running away from a monster but no matter how fast my legs moved I didn’t go anywhere.

  It occurred to me that I could report the rape after baseball season was over. Smith couldn’t take it out on Mike. But what proof did I have? Again, none. It would be his word against mine.

  I knew that Mike was getting frustrated with me. We hadn’t gone the whole way in weeks. I wanted to, I really did. But every time I thought I was going to be OK, I’d freeze. I’d see Smith’s bushy brows and bald head and smell his nasty beer breath. And that damn dime-size mole between his belly button and pubic hair.

  I know that I really freaked out Mike the night I flipped out. He playfully placed my hand on his crotch and it sent me into a sobbing rage. I kept thinking about Smith and how he forced my hand on his bulging crotch and said that his was bigger than Mike’s and how much I would like it. Poor Mike, about all he could do was hold me. And the worst part was that he knew something was really wrong and that I wasn’t sharing it with him. I’ve always told Mike everything. There have never been any secrets between us – until now.

  Before the crotch incident and me melting into a puddle of tears, Mike asked if I was pregnant. I had wished out loud that I was. Being pregnant with Mike’s child would be so much easier to deal with. The timing would be all wrong, but at least it’s something I want to happen – eventually.

  I was mad at myself, too, for not getting over what happened quicker. I know I can’t be the only person who’s gone through this. Normally when bad stuff happens, I can shake it off. But I couldn’t shake this off, and that made me mad.

  We were on our way out of the card store when we ran into Julie hanging on a guy neither of us knew. Julie went to our school but the guy looked older. Julie went through boyfriends like I went through packs of orange sugarless gum. She was tall and tan and lean and it seemed like guys were always tripping over her.

  “What number is that?” Mike whispered as we walked away. He was referring to the guy Julie was with.

  “I’ve stopped counting,” I said.

  Just a few days before, I had found Julie crying in the bathroom at school. Black mascara stained her cheeks and her hair was a mess, like she had been pulling it in every direction.

  “Julie, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Everything,” she said. “My life sucks. I’m tired of being used.”

  I put my arm around her and she fell into my shoulder. “Then stop.”

  She pulled back and looked at me with swollen raccoon eyes. “You just don’t get it. I’m not like you. Smart and all.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said. “You just have to work a little harder. And I can help.”

  The next day I saw her with a new guy. And now today, with yet another one. I knew she wouldn’t call me for homework help as sure as I knew that this new guy wouldn’t last.

  I knew that Julie was in her
own wilderness and that she was going to have to find her way out just like I was going to have to find the way out of mine. It made me realize that you never know what someone might be going through, you never know what their wilderness stories are or if they’re stuck in one. We each have crosses to bear, I suppose. The trick is not to get weighed down by them.

  We were the last couple to arrive at Jeremy’s house. Unlike Jeremy’s usual parties, this one was just for couples. His parents both traveled and were never home so we always had a place to hang out. It was me and Mike, Sue and Ron, Jeremy and Ellen, Becky and Bill and Amy (aka Cookie) and Keith. Dave wanted to bring the ninth-grader he was seeing but Jeremy told him that he better hadn’t because the rest of us would kill him. We were still all sore that he broke up with Diane right before our senior prom.

  Jeremy got his older cousin to get us a couple of cases. It felt good to just hang out with everyone. I knew we wouldn’t have many more moments like this. In two weeks, we would be graduating and everyone would be going their own way. Becky would be leaving for basic training in the Air Force and the rest of us would head off to college.

  I tasted the homemade salsa Ellen made. She was a terrific cook and was excited about culinary school. “This is so good, El. I especially love the chopped avocados.”

  “You know what they say about avocados,” Becky said. “They’re an aphrodisiac.”

  Ron dipped a chip into the salsa and held it up to Sue’s mouth. “In that case, eat a lot of it.”

  “I don’t think she’ll need that,” Jeremy said. “Just give her another beer.”

  Jeremy’s remark made Sue cough and she spit the salsa all over Ron.

  “That works, too,” said Ron, wiping the salsa off his shirt. “And maybe it’s not quite as messy as the salsa.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Do you know that the Aztecs called the avocado tree “testicle tree?” Becky asked.

  “How do they get testicle out of an avocado?” Jeremy asked.

  “They thought that a pair of avocados hanging together on a tree looked like a pair of testicles.”

  Jeremy scrunched his nose. “I will never look at an avocado the same way again.”

  “You eat bananas, right?” Becky asked.

  “Yeah, so.”

  “That’s another aphrodisiac,” Becky said. “The shape alone is sexual.”

  I squirmed in my seat. All of the aphrodisiac talk was making me a little uncomfortable. And the more beer that my friends drank the looser they became. After awhile, there were only a few couples in the room; the rest had left to make out.

  Cookie pulled the tab on another Miller Lite. “Have you seen Karen lately? She’s getting big. She’s not supposed to have the baby until the end of June, but she told me the other day that she could go early.”

  Karen was our classmate. She got pregnant to an older guy. She claimed she was on the pill and got pregnant anyhow. She was planning a fall wedding, and said she didn’t want to look like a white elephant waddling down the aisle.

  “But she looks good,” I said. “And you know Karen, with all the sports she plays she’ll have it off in no time.”

  I thought for sure that Karen would go to college and become a gym teacher. She was the best female athlete in our school and lettered in track, basketball and field hockey. It sucked that she got pregnant especially if she was on the pill. I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if I would have gotten pregnant after what Smith did to me. Carrying his kid would have been horrible.

  I looked at Cookie and Keith, kissing on the couch. Keith was the first boy I ever kissed. We were in sixth grade and playing Spin the Bottle in Becky’s garage. I spun the empty beer bottle, and when it stopped, it was pointing at Keith.

  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to open my mouth when we kissed. The girls and I had talked about it but I realized we hadn’t made a decision. My heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest. I wiggled over to Keith and I leaned in and he leaned in and we kissed. It was as quick as a firefly’s light.

  Funny the memories that come rushing back at odd times. But being at Jeremy’s, hanging with my friends, knowing that graduation was only a couple of weeks away, made me retrospective.

  Mike leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Wanna get out of here? Go to the woods?”

  I nodded. I was going to try to be the old me, but I didn’t want to do it at Jeremy’s house. I wanted to be alone with Mike under our tree in our woods. That’s where I wanted to be, more than anything. And I hoped that I could relax enough to let down my guard and let the one person I loved more than anything in.

  Chapter 6

  Gina

  The woods where we made out were part of Mike’s uncle’s farm. His uncle Jim cut a road into the woods so he could easily access the trees when he needed to cut firewood. Mike said it was a safe place to make out because no one, except his uncle, ever used the road. And Uncle Jim wouldn’t be using it at night.

  I’m pretty sure Mike told him that we went there, just in case he ever saw car lights going down the lane.

  We passed the lane going back to the farm and shortly after turned down the dirt road leading into the woods. I bounced as we navigated the bumps and potholes.

  Mike glanced over at me. “Feeling OK?”

  I smiled. “Yeah. Just thinking about graduation. That reminds me. Mom wants to have my graduation party on the Saturday after we graduate but I told her I wanted to check to see when you’re having yours.”

  “Mine’s on Friday night,” Mike said. “Everyone’s supposed to come back to the house afterward. So it looks like that will all work out.”

  Mike turned off the car. “There’s a lot of stars out tonight. I bet we can find the Big Dipper.”

  I smiled because I remembered what one of my best friends, J.R., had told me.

  “Did you know that the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper aren’t constellations but asterisms?”

  Mike shook his head.

  “J.R. told me that.”

  Mike wasn’t fond of J.R., mostly because he knew how J.R. felt about me. J.R. was in love with me and had been for a long time. I never had any romantic feelings for J.R. He was the brother I never had. Mike knew this but it didn’t stop him from being jealous.

  Mike stared straight ahead. “I read what J.R. wrote in your yearbook.”

  I reached over and touched his hand. “When?”

  He turned and looked at me. “You gave it to me to sign after he had signed it. I didn’t go looking for it. But it was hard not to miss. It took up half a page.”

  “We’re just friends,” I said.

  “But he’d like to be more,” Mike chimed in. “And he said something about an incident. What’s that all about?”

  I wasn’t about to tell Mike that J.R. tried to kiss me one night while we were playing pool at his house. He backed off as soon as I turned away. J.R. apologized over and over and I told him to just forget it. I was OK. Everything was cool.

  “Come on, Mike,” I said. “I don’t know what incident J.R. was referring to, and I’d much rather talk about us.”

  “You’re right,” Mike said. “I’m sorry I even brought it up. Let’s find our tree.”

  We walked hand-in-hand into the woods and found our tree. I ran my hands over the words we had carved in the rough bark. “Mike and Gina forever.” I smiled. I’ll always remember that night. It was the first time we told each other that we loved one another. Mike wanted to record it for all eternity. So he dug out the pocketknife he had gotten in Scouts and carved our names, enclosing them in a heart.

  “It’s never going away,” said Mike, unzipping the blue sleeping bag. “Just like I’m never going away.”

  Mike spread the sleeping bag out with the plaid liner facing up. He grabbed his T-shirt at his shoulders and pulled it over his head. There was just enough moonlight to see the ring of thorns that wrapped around his right bicep.

  “Looks like the weight lifting is pay
ing off,” I said, reaching out to touch his tattoo.

  Mike sat down on the sleeping bag and held out his arm. “Come here.”

  I sat down beside him. He brushed my hair off my face. “You’re so beautiful.”

  I closed my eyes as he outlined my lips with his thumb. I opened my mouth and his finger slipped inside and I playfully bite it and circled it with the tip of my tongue.

  I tried to focus on Mike, his gorgeous, thick curls and beautiful smile. I ran my fingers through his hair and I heard him moan softly. I played with his ear and let my fingers trail down to his lips. I rubbed my fingers over his lips and down to his chin before I pulled his head toward me and found his soft lips. Playful kisses led to deep kisses and I felt the familiar tingle I hadn’t felt since before the rape. So far, so good. I rubbed my hand over Mike’s chest and down his arms. He slid his hands under my shirt, unhooked my bra and slipped my shirt over my head. We hugged bare chest against bare chest. He was warm and it felt good being next to his skin. I reached down to unzip his jeans.

  “I’ll take care of this,” he said, and wiggled off his jeans and boxers. I saw his boxers in the moonlight and it sent me reeling back to the rape. His boxers were the same blue boxers Smith had worn. I could see the Fruit of the Loom tag.

  I was squirming on the cold vinyl floor. Tears flooded my face. The gag hurt my mouth. I felt the panic. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to escape but I didn’t know how. I could smell Coach Smith, the beer and stale smoke. I could feel him tearing me apart inside. It hurt. I could hear his skin slapping mine as he rammed into me and told me how much I liked what he was doing. I watched his hips move back and forth as he violated me.

  Heavy sobs wracked my body and Mike held me in his arms. “It’s OK, Gina, baby. Everything’s OK. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  Mike got dressed and dressed me and kissed me on the forehead and we laid there on the sleeping bag under our tree.

  “Gina,” Mike whispered after awhile. “It’s OK. We don’t have to try that again. I’m all right just laying here beside you and holding you.”

 

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