by Anne Pfeffer
Mom was asleep, as usual. The only light shone in through the windows from streetlamps, and the place was scary cold. I took my icy shower in the dark, shivering, then rustled through the dufflebag that served as my closet to find a sweatshirt and sweatpants.
Wrapped in a blanket, I lay on the sofa thinking of long platinum hair and gray eyes and a low musical voice. I wondered if my life would ever be any good. I thought of Zoey in her little home and could almost feel her in my arms. Sleep wouldn’t come.
Finally I got up and, by flashlight, found a piece of lined notebook paper. Sitting at our little table, light coming in the window from outside, I folded it into neat strips and tore it carefully along the folds. I did the same with a couple of more pieces of paper.
During the next hour, I took each strip and wrote something on it in my neatest printing, then folded it into a one-inch square. I put the squares into a clean envelope from the trash, one that had previously held a utility bill.
Then I went to sleep.
##
Over the next few days, I bombarded Zoey with a blizzard of small folded squares of paper. I sneaked up behind her and slipped them into her hand. I hid them in the outer section of her purse, in the pocket of her hoodie, inside her gym bag. I attached them to the papers in her clipboard. I even got the others to help me. Terra, Hilda, Johnnie, and even Charlotte, all went to bat for me, presenting Zoey with squares of paper, saying “This is from Travis.”
The strips said things like:
I miss you.
I want you.
You’re beautiful.
Give me a second chance.
You’re driving me crazy.
Go out with me.
“Travis likes Zoey!” Hilda chanted, clapping her hands.
“He does not!” Zoey’s cheeks flamed.
“Come on, Zoey!” Charlotte hissed at her. “He’s dreamy! What are you waiting for?”
What was she waiting for? For three days she ignored me. Finally, she pulled me aside as lunch was ending. She wore these little cut-offs that ended just below her ass. Did she know how cute her ass was and how tempting her thighs were, ending the way they did in that sweet V at the top? If she wanted me to leave her alone, she shouldn’t walk around like that. In shorts, for God’s sake.
“Why me?” she asked. “You can get plenty of other girls. Do you just want an unbroken record of wins? Is that it?”
“I like you.” I said it without the cocky self-confidence, the you-know-you-love-me bravado. “I want to be with you.” I took her arm and started off on our usual walk through the park, pulling her along with me.
“I’m not ready to date. It’s too soon,” she said.
“So you did break up with him?” When she nodded, I controlled myself from whooping with joy. We reached the little fountain and stopped to sit on its edge, the sound of tinkling water behind us.
“Don’t flatter yourself that it was on account of you. It was a long time coming.” She fastened her gaze on a far off tree, as if she was memorizing every leaf, but I could see a smile trying to burst its way out.
“It was a long time coming, but it just happened to come along when I did.” The cockiness was back.
She frowned at me, although the smile still lurked in the background. “You don’t help your own case when you act like a butt.”
I calmed down. “Okay, you’re right.”
Today they had a band playing in the park, kind of a Dixieland jazz group. We got up and walked in the direction of the music.
After a minute, she said, “It’s not technically a break-up. It’s more of a … vacation.”
“From each other?”
“Just to take a break, you know, and see if this is really what we want.”
We arrived where the musicians were playing. They weren’t entirely together or on key—at least, I didn’t think so. A whole crowd of people was standing or occupying the nearby benches, listening, while a few courageous people danced.
“So then, you’re going to need to date other people for a while, right? To have a basis for comparison.”
She laughed. “You think of everything, don’t you, Travis?”
“Not everything,” I said modestly. “But seriously, I’m helping you out here. How else will you know whether Josh is right for you? You need to go out with me.”
Her eyes sparkled, but she gave an elaborate shrug. “I’ll go out with other guys!”
I motioned to indicate the sizzling hunk of manhood standing beside her. “And let all this go to waste?”
Her laugh rang out as the banjo player plucked bravely away at his solo.
I reached out and took her hand. “Go out with me. On Saturday?”
She made me wait a few beats. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go out with you, Travis.”
“Great!” I tasted victory and happiness in the same moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can talk about what we want to do.”
In the parking lot, I opened her car door for her and watched as she drove off, while immediately my problem unfolded before my eyes. What would we do on this date? A quick inventory of my pocket reminded me of the one dollar there.
Light sweat broke out on my forehead. Anything that cost money was out. Restaurants, movies, plays, museums, arcades, sporting events, amusement parks, concerts—all out. What else was there?
I started my car. We could go for a walk. Fighting back shame at having so little to offer her, I decided we’d drive up into the hills and take one of the many hiking trails where you could see amazing canyon and city views, and even all the way to the ocean.
I left the Community Center parking lot behind a slick new Mercedes, a glaring contrast to my old heap. I reminded myself that even if I didn’t have a good job or the money to take Zoey places, I did know how to romance a girl. And I’d never been hotter for any girl than I was for Zoey. I wanted our first kiss to rock her world.
Star
Fire raged through Los Angeles and Ventura Counties, gobbling up huge tracts of raw land and destroying homes. The Santa Ana winds did their part, screaming through the streets at night, downing power lines and tearing signs off buildings. The winds were an equal opportunity destroyer, rattling the old windows in a warehouse in Perdido until they shattered and sending a loose deck umbrella through a sheet of plate glass in a Liberty Heights living room.
Many of the fires were further north, in Ventura, but the Santa Alicia mountains were under a fire warning, as was most of Los Angeles. On Saturday morning, we were lucky to have class at all. They seemed to be in between fires. Garret was still out on sick leave, so Perkins stepped into his place. He stood before us in the training yard, holding a chain saw.
He was neat and groomed as usual, but his face looked gray and dark circles had formed under his eyes. All that stress and responsibility would be hard, I thought, but it would also be awesome to be so important, so needed.
“Anybody here ever used one of these?” he asked, pointing to the saw.
I put up one finger, trying to keep a low profile. Bad enough being the obvious favorite of the battalion chief, but knowing it was all built on lies and likely to blow up in my face made it a million times worse
Perkins counted the hands that went up. “A few of you, I see. Good! Today we’re going to learn a basic skill for use at a fire scene. Who knows,” he looked around at the kids seated on the ground, “one of the first things the firefighter does upon arriving at a burning building?”
Andy Adams raised his hand. By now, he was seriously chasing me for the spot of number one student in the class. “Cut a hole in the roof! To ventilate.”
“Right! So we’re all going to give it a shot today.” Perkins got us up on our feet and led us to sections of plywood that lay elevated on blocks in the training yard.
The class was pretty used to me by now, so when it took me only five minutes to rev up the saw and slash out a four by four foot hole in my sample roof, triumphantly kicking the cut-o
ut square through with the heel of my boot, they just groaned and rolled their eyes. Most of them were still figuring out how to hold the saw.
“Outstanding!” Perkins barked. “Now that’s the way it’s done!”
“I use one of these every day at work,” I explained, exhilarated by the sheer awesomeness of being good at something and praised for it.
I was still feeling good when I got home that afternoon and picked up the mail. Most of it was Past Due notices, but today there was a large envelope from Perdido High School. At first I thought I was in trouble, but it turned out to be the stuff from Ms. Val about the GED.
If I had a GED I could take the firefighter’s exam. I sat down next to a window and read Ms. Val’s materials by the daylight coming in. If I went to a different donation center, I could sell blood again. With that money and part of the rent, I could pay for the test prep books and registration fee, study for the test, and take it in January.
Then, I’d be done with this high school bullshit once and for all, and I could become a firefighter. And have a real job that I liked and that paid decent money. It seemed like a good plan.
The room was getting dark as the sun set. I found a pen and, working by flashlight, began to fill out the forms.
First Date
As I drove the two miles from my home to Zoey’s, the crumbling apartment buildings and dying lawns of my neighborhood gave way to little, modest houses with fresh paint and flower gardens. At her address, the grass looked super green and the house looked extra blue to me, but maybe it was just because I had a date with Zoey. I took the exterior stairs two at a time to reach her room above the garage.
She opened the door. “Hi.”
Damn. She looked great in cut-offs and a white t-shirt that showed off her body without trying too hard. Thighs I wanted to kiss and breasts that begged for my undivided attention. But no, I would take her hiking.
“Hi.” I stepped into her home. “So this is the crib, huh?”
Her gray eyes zapped me with a jolt of electricity.
“Yeah. You can tour the whole place from where you’re standing.”
One corner held a kitchenette, another a small table, and a third a big bed with a quilt. A door led to a tiny bathroom, the only other room.
Simple and uncluttered, with white walls and green plants and a big, soft- looking rug.
“Nice place.” A lump entered my throat. It felt safe and comfortable here. “Ready to go?”
She brought along her windbreaker, since the day was cool—finally, after weeks of unseasonal heat. “I thought we’d go to the Ridge,” I said. The state park there was full of hiking trails.
At the Ridge, the winds had blown away any smoke or fire smell, and the mountains stood crisply outlined against a blue sky. Zoey and I started off on a well-marked trail, she ahead of me, walking slowly so we could talk. Feeling like a kid again, I jumped up to hit a leaf on a branch hanging across the trail.
“You must not have gone to Perdido Elementary,” she said over her shoulder to me. “Or I’d have known you.”
“I didn’t. Before LA, I lived in Modesto, and before that… let’s see. Bakersfield, Portland, Boise, and some town in Ohio when I was little.”
“Wow. Is your Dad in the military?”
No, he’s in the penitentiary. “No, but his work kept us moving around.”
“He’s not living with you, is he?”
Damn her good memory and listening skills. She obviously remembered me saying I needed food for just myself and my mother.
“He’s up north right now.” Soledad Prison, to be exact.
“And your mom?”
Ordinarily I would have said she’s fine, but I found myself telling the truth. “She’s too sick to work these days. We were told it was depression, but I don’t know. The pills don’t seem to help her.” I took a deep breath, feeling lighter.
We came out onto a wide, paved path that offered shade and let us walk side-by-side. Other than passing an occasional walker, we were alone.
“Antidepressants don’t always take effect immediately,” Zoey said. “I’m helping Hilda remember to take hers, but I don’t think they’ve kicked in yet.” She sighed. “It’ll be easier once I get her into The Haven.”
I was multi-tasking, listening to her talk while enjoying the slight bounce of her breasts as she walked. “You want to save the world, don’t you?” I teased.
“Not the world. A few people maybe.” Smiling, she put her hand on my arm and gave me a small, playful shove. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Never.” I grabbed her hand and wove my fingers together with hers, then held on when she tried to pull away.
“Are you going to give me my hand back?”
“No.” We stopped walking. Teasingly, I drew her slowly toward me.
“Travis,” she said, trying to act mad.
“In fact, I think I’m going to kiss you.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” I drew her closer.
She yanked her hand from mine. “You have to catch me first!”
If the way she took off was any indication, she must have been a sprinter when she ran track in high school. But I was in great shape, with much longer legs than hers. And I was motivated.
I pounded after her, passing a couple of dog walkers and slowly shortening the distance between us. “Give up,” I panted as I drew up behind her.
“No!”
One more long stride and I was close enough to reach out an arm and grab her around the waist. I pulled her to a stop, both of us stumbling a little as our feet tangled together, but managing to stay upright.
“We almost fell!” she said into my chest, while I held her up.
“Never woulda happened,” I said. “Not with this core.” I pointed to my six-pack abdomen.
“Spare me,” she groaned, but I was not going to be sidetracked.
“I caught you. Now I get to kiss you.”
She got that impish look. “That’s not how it’s going to happen.”
“No?” She was so close to me, I could feel her breath on my face, the warmth of her body. My arm tightened around her waist.
“I’m going to kiss you,” she said.
Instant turn-on. Talk about getting my attention. I’d never had a girl give me the first kiss. Later kisses, yes, but not the first.
“Okay,” I said, marveling at the awesomeness of this girl.
It felt really strange to stand there, waiting, passive, getting harder by the second, as she ran her hands up my chest and rose up on her toes. Her lips came nearer and nearer to mine until they met in this soft miracle of a kiss that had me instantly on the edge, breathing hard, needing her, gathering her up and holding her as close to me as I could.
She responded, pressing her body to mine, her heart pounding against my chest. She tasted like vanilla, and her hand stroked the back of my head . A strange ache settled in my throat, an intense emotion that made my eyes prickle. Her lips went away for a second and then came back, and our mouths opened and now I was exploring her mouth with mine while my hands longed to do some exploring of their own. I let them wander safely along her back and through her hair.
I’d kissed so many girls. I’d liked doing it. But this was in a whole different league. I was on fire. We started to walk, slowly, leaning against each other, but had to stop every few steps to make out. Zoey pursued kissing with the same single-minded intensity she did everything else. I wondered what she was like in bed, my mind running wild with possibilities.
The sun was setting, and the wind had picked up, sending Zoey’s long hair streaming out behind her. The two of us laughed as I helped subdue her windbreaker, which billowed and flapped like a living creature, holding it so she could slide her hands into the sleeves and zip it, capturing her hair beneath its collar. “Don’t you have a sweatshirt or something?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Nah.”
“Let’s go back to the car then.�
�
Exhilarated, we ran through the wind, holding hands, and jumped into the car, which felt warm and comfortable compared to the air outside. As I circled my chilly arms around her, I had a fleeting thought of my mom, stuck in that apartment, all alone, with no heat or light, while I was out on a date.
I deserved to have some fun. I put Mom out of my head.
We watched the sun set as I drove home. As trees whipsawed back and forth in the wind, the sky’s angry salmon color faded until all we could see were lights twinkling against the black background of the city.
In the distance, a faint wail grew into a siren, got louder for a moment, then softer until it disappeared. Then a second siren started up.
“There must be a fire somewhere,” Zoey said.
I thought of the guys I knew at the station, thought of them leaping into their gear and rushing off, leaving behind half-eaten plates of spaghetti and unfinished card games. A part of me tingled with excitement, wishing I could go too. “They’ve got a long night ahead of them,” I said.
I headed the car back to Perdido, sorry that the day had to end. My eye fell on the gas gauge. It was empty—really empty. Fortunately, I knew a cheapo independent station that was on the way to her house.
“I’m gonna stop for gas real quick, okay? Then I’ll take you home.”
“Hey, I cooked for my family this weekend and have all this extra food. Do you want to come in for a while?”
I grinned at her.
“For dinner,” she added pointedly.
“Yeah, dinner’d be great.” I was stoked. It wouldn’t happen tonight, but it would happen. It was just a matter of time before Zoey fell for the Travis Walker charm and I would get the girl I was crazy about.
I pulled in at Vince’s Gas, wheeling up behind a car that was using the station’s single pump. A girl had just put the nozzle into her car.
“Might as well wait in here,” I said to Zoey, running my finger across the palm of her hand. She pulled me toward her and we made out across the cup holders, my hand on her face, touching her silky cheek, not caring who saw us, going in for a deep, mind-blowing kiss that I never wanted to end.
