by Tammar Stein
Bar had some sort of techno music blasting from his speakers and was driving to the pulsing rhythm, veering around cars, hand on the horn.
“I can’t watch,” Daphna wailed, and buried her face in my shoulder. She smelled of something that wasn’t her perfume. Seemed the party had started without me.
Dov turned and looked at her in amusement.
“What about you,” he said. Our eyes met. “Scared?”
“I’d like to see my death when it comes.”
“Ah. Brave and beautiful. I can respect that.”
“That’s a relief.” I wasn’t even blushing. Maybe because it seemed he was testing me.
He turned to face the front again.
“You’re so mean to him,” Daphna whispered loudly. I finally got a good look at her eyes. They were bloodshot.
“Did you smoke up?”
“Don’t be mad,” she whispered. “I want to have fun tonight.”
“Daphna, are you insane?” I tried to keep my voice down. “What the hell were you thinking? You’re in the army. Do you know how much trouble you could get into?”
“Maya, don’t be a drag. I know everyone at the MP station. Even if I get caught, they won’t book me. I’m totally safe.” She snuggled in next to me, pushing my hair out of her way. “Tonight’ll be great. Dov is such a hottie.”
“Did you all get high before you picked me up?” It explained Bar’s erratic driving. I knew that I probably sounded like my mother, which wasn’t cool. But I wasn’t happy with the thought of riding in the back of a sardine can whose driver was probably seeing clouds and butterflies drifting by. It was also disappointing that Dov did drugs. It changed my opinion of him.
“Just wait till you see this new club,” she said, oblivious. “Bar knows the bouncer, otherwise we’d never get in. God, I’m starving. Honey—” she called out. “Stop at the next kiosk we pass. I’m so hungry I could pass out.”
Bar swerved, slammed on the brakes, and jumped a curb, scattering the people loitering around a shacklike falafel stand. We got a lot of glares, and someone shouted, “You fucking maniacs.” I hunched down in my seat.
Daphna shrieked with laughter. I loved her and we’d been friends since forever, but I hated it when she got high.
Bar got out, tilted his seat, and Daphna crawled out. She nearly fell and Bar caught her. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. They kissed.
I looked away.
“So.” Dov twisted to get a better look at me. “You ready to have a good time tonight?”
“Not as good a time as you guys, apparently.”
“They were like that when I got here.”
I ignored the relief sneaking through me. He didn’t do drugs. So what? “Is he safe to drive? I don’t want to ride with a driver who’s going to mistake a stop sign for a grinning monkey.”
“You want me to drive?”
I thought about it for a moment. There was something very sober and steady about Dov.
“Yeah, I do. But there’s no way you’ll be able to talk Bar out of driving. No way he’ll let you. He’s a maniac about his car.”
“Is that a dare?”
I laughed. “Sure, if you want to make it into one. Let’s see you do it.”
He was out of the car before I finished. He walked over to Bar, who was kicking pebbles, waiting for Daphna to get her order. Dov threw an arm around Bar and said something. Bar laughed. They both looked over at me. I glared and looked away. When I looked back, Dov was talking again and Bar was nodding.
Dov returned to the car.
“Come on, you’re moving up front.”
“What? But there’s hardly room back there for me and Daphna. How is Bar going to fit?”
“They’ll figure out something.”
I got out. Dov and I leaned against the hood while Daphna devoured her stuffed pita. Bar kept taking bites until she ordered him to get another one for himself.
“What about you?” Dov asked. “Hungry?”
“No. It’s nearly midnight; I don’t know how they can eat that greasy food so late. Makes me queasy just thinking about it.” I made a face. “You have to tell me how you convinced him to let you drive.”
Dov looked down at me, amusement playing on his lovely face. “Oh, it’s no problem. You just have to know what cards to play.” Which of course made me wonder even more what he’d said to put that look in Bar’s eye.
The orange streetlight washed out the color of Dov’s eyes and made them seem nearly clear. Leaning against the hood, he folded his arms across his chest and brushed against me. I tried not to jump. I felt the contact all the way down to my toes. I studied him from under my lashes. He was wearing black cargo pants and a silky gray T-shirt that molded to his body. Something shifted and tightened in my stomach.
Bar and Daphna staggered up to us, howling at some private joke. Dov opened the door and tilted the seat. Daphna crawled in first and Bar grabbed her butt. She shrieked and twisted, and Bar dove in after her.
Dov drove smoothly, staying mostly in the same lane, shifting around slower cars in a controlled way that made me feel much better about the night to come.
Once we arrived at the nightclub, we pushed through the small crowd waiting to get in until we reached the bouncer, who scanned the crowd with maddening insolence, choosing who would enter and who would wait. There were two security guards standing off to the side, checking people’s bags and coats with a handheld metal detector. Both had sidearms.
“A club down the street got bombed last month,” Bar said, leading us through the crowd. “The bastard packed his bomb with nails covered in rat poison. Killed nine people waiting outside.”
I eyed the crowd around us. It was impossible to see everyone, to notice if anyone looked suspicious. All I could see were folks dressed for clubbing, waiting impatiently to be let in and let the party start. I shivered at the thought of nails flying through this crowd, ripping through arms and legs and made-up faces.
Daphna smacked Bar on the shoulder.
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why? Because it’s true? You think some terrorist is going to hear me?”
“Just stop, okay? It’s not funny.”
He shrugged, looking amused. I was elbowed sideways by the people pressed in all around us. I stepped closer to Daphna.
Bar’s friend wasn’t that tall, which was unusual in a bouncer. He stood, trying to look bored, his oversized arms crossed across his chest, but the gleam in his eye gave him away. He was enjoying himself.
“Yo, Max,” Bar bellowed.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Max grinned. “You made it.”
“Sure.”
Max eyed Daphna, lingering on her chest and hips. “Looking good,” he said. Bar threw an arm around her and squeezed.
Max uncrossed his arms and moved the low gate that held everyone back. We walked in. The chosen.
Once inside the overloud dark club, my eyes adjusted and I could see that the hot new club was practically empty. We gave it nearly an hour, listening to Bar swear it would fill up soon, but it didn’t.
“My friend owns a club not far from here,” Dov shouted in my ear. “Let’s try his.”
“Fine, just get me out of here,” I yelled back. “This place sucks.”
Bar sulked during the quick car ride and kept saying the club had been packed last weekend. Daphna retreated into a self-protective vegetative state and didn’t utter a word. Dov and I stayed quiet and let Bar vent. I was sleepy and tried to think of a good reason to just skip this next club and go back to Aunt Hen’s to crash. It had been a long week. It was well past midnight. My ears were already ringing from the loud music in Bar’s stupid club.
But Dov parked the car and I still hadn’t thought of a graceful way to get out of going.
This new club was brightly lit on the outside and glowing with happy neon colors. The bouncers wore bright blue pants and sunny yellow shirts. I started perking up.
“Hi, Do
v,” one of them said as we pushed through the crowd waiting to get in.
“Hi. Is Asi in tonight?”
“Naw, he’s taking it easy tonight. He might be in later. I’ll tell him you’re here if he gets in. We’ve got a great turnout tonight. You should have a good time.”
“Great.” Dov smiled. The guy stepped aside and let us all through.
As we entered, passing through an airport-like metal-detector gate, a stunning girl in a hot-pink wig and a periwinkle bodysuit handed each of us a plastic test tube full of liquid. Mine was red, Dov’s was green, Daphna got orange, and Bar’s was yellow.
“What’s this?” I said. “It looks radioactive.”
“Vodka, syrup, and food coloring.” She smiled. “It’s good. Trust me.”
“Ladies,” Bar announced, sulk forgotten. “Bottoms up.”
We drank.
The music was pulsing, the beat was good, and the dance floor was packed.
“Come on.” I grabbed Daphna’s hand. “Let’s dance.”
I dragged her to the middle of the floor so that we were surrounded by bodies on all sides, and then we danced, trusting the guys would find us if they wanted to.
I danced for hours, throwing my arms, shaking my hips, and letting the skittering beat carry me on its back like riding a wave to the shore. I was vaguely aware that Daphna had left to find Bar, but the floor was full of dancers pressing against me and I didn’t care if I didn’t know them. I kept on dancing, mesmerized by my bare arms undulating in the flashing lights, illuminated for split seconds, bright green or glowing white.
My face was damp with sweat and my hair clung to it as I shook and shimmied and twisted away from the week that passed and the week to come and any unpleasant thoughts that tried to creep into my mind.
I felt large hands settle on my swaying hips. I turned around, sure it was some stranger who wanted to dance, but it was Dov. I looked at him through half-closed eyes, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t. A new song started up and I danced to it, arms twisting in front of me like a belly dancer’s, like I was casting a spell. He stepped closer.
He leaned in and I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me. I dropped my arms and grew still. But his mouth went past my lips to my ear.
“Bar and Daphna want to go home,” he yelled.
Not what I expected to hear.
“Not yet,” I yelled back, peeved. I danced out of his grip. “A few more songs.”
I thought he’d leave, but he stayed with me and we danced together. He was a sexy dancer, coming up close, almost touching but not quite. My heart was thumping pleasantly and I realized I really wanted to kiss him. Or rather, I really wanted him to kiss me. I thought about leaning in, tilting my head back, giving him the unmistakable invitation to kiss me.
Then Daphna found us. Even in the dark club with its blinding flashes of strobe lights, I could see she looked bad.
“Maya,” she whimpered. “I wanna go home.”
Dov drove again, but Bar sat in the front seat and Daphna and I were once again together in the back. She fell asleep, her head heavy against my shoulder. Bar was out too, his head resting at a funny angle propped up against the window. It was strangely comfortable with only Dov and me awake in the dark.
“Where should I drop you off?” he asked quietly.
“My aunt lives on Levi Eshkol.” It was one of the most chic streets in Tel Aviv, of course.
He nodded and was silent for a while.
“I hope you had a good time,” he said.
“You know I did.” I didn’t feel like being coy. “You’re a good dancer.”
“You’re not bad yourself.”
“I love dancing.” I looked out the window, watching the streetlights smear by. I gently readjusted Daphna’s head on my shoulder. “I just get away when I dance. It’s the only time I totally relax.”
He didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride. Maybe he thought I’d fallen asleep. My head was in the shadows. I was tired, but I liked watching him. I’d never seen anyone drive so smoothly.
He reached my aunt’s building. He shook Bar awake so he could let me out of the car. I eased Daphna off of me and once I was out, she stretched out on the back seat.
Dov got out and walked me to the main door.
“I like dancing with you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe as I dug for my keys. “We should do it again.”
I looked up, hand still in my purse.
“Okay.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Okay.” Then he leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. I stayed perfectly still. He straightened and I couldn’t read the look on his face. He ran a finger down the bridge of my nose, the way you would to a child.
“Sweet dreams,” he said, and headed back to the car. I watched him get in and drive away.
Yeah.
I found my keys.
Good. Okay.
I entered the building grinning. I wasn’t tired at all.
Chapter Five
VIRGINIA
I crept back to bed from my walk near dawn, exhausted. When the alarm rang at seven, I woke up with a start, not knowing where I was. There was a moment of panic and then I saw Payton emerge from her bed like a butterfly out of its cocoon.
“Morning,” she rasped, and swallowed.
“Hey.”
I rubbed a hand over my half-numb face and tried hard to fully wake up.
I sat through my nine o’clock class, and when it was over I had no idea what the professor had said. It was raining outside, which made me even sleepier. The hems of my jeans had gotten wet on my way to class and they stayed damp and clammy against my ankles, irritating me every time they brushed against my skin. By the next class I was more alert and my pants were a little drier.
The professor stood at the podium in front of the auditorium. The hall quieted and the rustle of students settling ceased. “Stellar evolution,” the professor began, “is crucial to stellar survival. If a star cannot adjust itself to a stable configuration, it dies. Sometimes with a whimper. Sometimes with a bang.”
I wrote his key points in my notes. “Even a stable star must change. It cannot continue to produce the same amount of energy indefinitely. Its surroundings change. Its energy needs change. A star must be able to adapt. To handle change. Stars that cannot change die.”
I wondered if it was that simple for people too.
By the time I had the discussion section with “Just-in-Case,” my jeans were dry and I was functioning at nearly full speed, though still in somewhat of a foul mood. Justin called on me twice, forcing me out of a pleasant stupor in which I daydreamed about a warm bath and a long nap.
No one said anything profound during class. Justin asked if anyone thought the military had a private agenda during the Bay of Pigs incident.
“They probably did,” I piped up.
“Why do you say that?” he asked, his look sharpening in interest.
I felt the class’s gaze shift to me. I’d blurted that out without thinking. Justin nodded, urging me to speak.
“The military is bred for action,” I said, hoping I’d say this right. “On the one hand, no one understands the cost of going to war better than soldiers, because they’re the ones who actually put their lives on the line.” I paused, looked at Justin, who nodded again in encouragement. “But on the other hand, generals don’t like sitting around and feeling useless. Without an active engagement to justify their training, I think they start feeling restless.”
“What about Vietnam?” someone asked.
“That didn’t really gear up until after Kennedy,” I said. “The generals only had Korea, and the fighting there ended years before. Maybe they felt it was time for something new.”
A couple of people actually nodded their heads in agreement, and I felt a warm glow from finally saying what I meant to say.
“If we consider what Maya said to be true, what role does the president, the head of the military, play?”
Someone raised a hand.
The rest of the class went by pretty easily, and it was over by the fifth time I checked my watch.
As we were filing out, a slender blonde came in and started chatting with Justin. He was leaning slightly away from her, his arms folded across his chest.
When she noticed me eyeing her as I zipped my bag, she shot me a cool smile.
There was something about her smile that grated on my nerves. I didn’t bother smiling back. I was thinking about taking a nap after class, trying to decide if it was worth skipping cafeteria lunch and wondering whether we had any apples in the room that I could eat instead. I hefted my bag and walked out, leaving the two of them alone.
As I pushed open the main doors heading back to my dorm room, I heard the metronome sound of the eaves dripping and it reminded me I left my umbrella in class. With a sigh, I turned around and trudged back to the classroom and walked in just as Justin was leaning in for a kiss. Her head was tilted back, eyes closed, lips ready for landing. But Justin’s eyes were open and at the sound of my footsteps, hesitating at the door, he looked at me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I forgot my umbrella.”
They separated.
“Seems like you’re always leaving things behind,” Justin said, maybe to fill in the uncomfortable silence.
“Only when you’re around.” The devil made me say it.
He grinned, and Blondie narrowed her eyes.
“Maya,” he said, remembering his duties as host. “This is Brook Maxwell. Brook, this is Maya Laor.”
“Hey,” I said.
“Nice to meet you.” To her credit, she seemed only slightly embarrassed by all this.
“Right.” I stooped down and grabbed my damp umbrella, leaving a wet smear on the floor. “Sorry to, ah, interrupt.” I waved my umbrella. “See you next week in class.” I hurried out.
“Wait, Maya,” Justin called after me, and jogged out of the classroom.
She won’t like that, I thought. I pictured a preppy huff. The thought of someone else having a bad day was so cheering that I smiled as Justin caught up.
“It’s not what you think.”
