Storky

by D. L. Garfinkle

  I told her our football team is supposed to suck this year, even worse than last year. But that just kept her in Hunk mode, how he asked her to watch his practice, how he worked out all summer so he could make varsity, blah blah blah, and I said I had to go. A guy like me doesn’t have a chance with a girl like her. Yeah, I’m Gina’s dream date—Brillo pad hair, beak nose, and all.

  Thursday, September 9

  MY MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENTS IN LIFE 1. What happened today.

  2. Puking on the bus up to Camp Mount Laguna.

  3. Wandering into the girls’ bathroom by mistake the first week of middle school.

  4. When I dove into the pool at Erica Sung’s swim party and my shorts fell off.

  5. Crying in homeroom the day after Dad moved out.

  6. Amanda walking in while I was exercising Rex.

  In Honors English today, Ms. Dore was droning on about The Great Gatsby, how it’s supposed to be this great romantic book. Yawn, yawn, yawn. All the sudden Ms. Dore shut up, walked over to Heather Kvaas, and snatched a note right out of her hand. After she read it, she marched down the aisle and gave it to me. Gina let out this loud gasp and everyone laughed. Ms. Dore went back to the chalkboard and continued droning.

  Gina had written “Gina Harrison” 9 times on top of the note. Like she’s going to marry Hunk Harrison and it takes so much preparation to get used to the name, she’s got to write it 9 times a day. Underneath she wrote, “Heather, should I tell Mike P. (Storky) about his fly?”

  I looked down and there it was, unzipped. My briefs were poking out. One of the pairs dyed pink in the laundry last month. I shot a look at Gina, and she was totally staring at me. But she turned away as soon as I looked at her. I closed my fly so fast it’s lucky Rex didn’t get caught in the zipper.

  How long was my fly open? All day? Through lunch? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Maybe no one noticed. Who noticed, I wonder? Gina did. Why was Gina looking at my crotch anyway? Maybe that’s a good thing. But she called me Storky. I hope she never ever brings this up, ever. I don’t think I can talk to her for a long time. Not that we speak much anyway.

  Friday, September 10

  Mom’s on her date. She already broke one of Amanda’s Cardinal Rules of Dating. She’s out with someone who didn’t ask her at least a week in advance. According to my sister, asking a girl out for less than a week before is like telling her you know she has nothing else to do. If Justin Timberlake asked Amanda out for 6 days from now, she’d probably turn him down.

  That’s not a problem for me, considering I’ve never asked a girl out. And I guess it’s not a problem for Amanda either, being so hot. But Mom hasn’t been on one date since the Divorce, so if she said no, she might have to wait another 2 years.

  Another Cardinal Rule of Dating is never let a guy be more than 15 minutes late. Twice I saw Amanda refuse to answer the door when a guy exceeded the 15-minute limit. I know I’ll never be late to pick up a girl. Well, like 5 minutes late. Amanda says it’s wimpy to get there exactly on time.

  Dr. Vermin came 19 minutes late. Even with aftershave on, he still smelled like dental office. He wore his hair all slicked back like he’d fallen headfirst into a vat of motor oil.

  I saw Aunt Marsha give Mom a thumbs-up sign behind Dr. Vermin’s back. No way did he deserve that. Aunt Marsha had come over with June to help Mom get ready for the date. Supposedly. I bet they just wanted to check out Dr. Vermin.

  I’m sort of used to seeing Aunt Marsha and June holding hands now. If I lost my virginity to an older woman, I’d definitely pick June. Except that she’s a lesbian. Maybe she’s bi though? Maybe one night with me and she’d become a total hetero? Sure.

  Dr. Vermin didn’t stay long. Mom made me vacuum the whole house for nothing. He just went, “Hi, everyone. Are you ready, Geraldine? You look like a queen.” Mom shot Aunt Marsha a look, like, Is that good or bad? After practically taking Mom’s closet apart, they had finally decided on this white pantsuit. I didn’t see anything queenly about it. Not even royal. Amanda did this big phony smile and Dr. Vermin took Mom’s hand and they left. At least he didn’t mess with my hair again.

  When they walked out, me and Amanda pretended to puke. Then everyone but me went somewhere. Aunt Marsha and June went off to see some barfy art film. Amanda had a date, of course. He came to the door looking like Ken doll’s twin, in a tweed blazer and button-down shirt. When he found out Mom wasn’t here, Ken doll stripped down to a Coors Mountain Brewery T-shirt and jeans and went, “Party time.”

  After they left, I just hung around like usual, flipping the channels between MTV and Nick at Nite. I heated up a frozen pizza and ended up eating the whole thing. I’m a pig.

  I wonder when Mom’s coming home.

  Saturday, September 11

  It’s 1:33 A.M. Amanda just got back. Before Mom. When I told Amanda, she said in this loud voice as if Mom, wherever she was, could hear her, “Good for you, Mom, you’re finally getting laid.”

  Laid? No way. Gross! Admittedly, it’s possible. But for my own mental health, I cannot think about it.

  Saturday, September 11

  It’s 2:14 A.M. and I’d like to know where Mom is. What if Dr. Vermin kidnapped her? I mean, how much do we know about him, really? Just that he’s a dentist. That alone makes him evil.

  Amanda’s fast asleep, sprawled on her bed with the light on, dried drool on her chin, clutching a romance novel, Prisoner of My Desire. It’s too bad no one in high school really knows her like I do. She’s a closet geek.

  I could sneak the novel out of her room. But it’s too much work to go through all the descriptions of fancy dresses and sunrises just to get to the throbbing loins and hot pulsating flesh stuff.

  I’m going to sit on that stupid flowery couch Mom bought right after the Divorce until she comes home. I’ve been flipping between TV movies: hot babe with gun avenges rape, hot babe in tight prison jumpsuit fights off lesbians, and hot babe stalked by madman slowly loses clothes.

  My brain is exploding with worry about Mom, but Rex at least is happy. Especially when that hot babe’s skirt got caught in the door, and to escape the madman she had to rip half of it off.

  Saturday, September 11

  WHAT MOM TOLD AUNT MARSHA ON THE PHONE TODAY 1. Dr. Vermin’s a good listener.

  2. They didn’t do the deed.

  3. She never thought her teenage son would be waiting up for her on a Friday night.

  4. I’m all shy and still coming into myself.

  5. She’s meeting him for lunch on Monday.

  WHAT I’D LIKE TO TELL MOM EXCEPT THEN SHE’D KNOW I WAS EAVESDROPPING 1. He’s only a good listener because he wants to do the deed.

  2. Thank God you didn’t do the deed!

  3. I never thought I’d be waiting up for my mom on a Friday night either.

  4. What does coming into myself mean anyway?

  5. Don’t meet him for lunch Monday. Don’t meet him again for anything ever.

  Sunday, September 12

  Dad took me and The Thighmaster to this Japanese-Mexican place that just opened downtown. I asked Dad if maybe we could go to a high school football game one Friday instead of out to eat or whatever on Sundays. He said, “Let’s just stick to Sundays.” No explanation or anything. If I played football, he’d probably sit in the bleachers every Friday wearing the school colors and tooting a giant horn.

  In the middle of dinner, right when Dad had a piece of carne asada in his chopsticks, I go, “Mom stayed out all night with my dentist.” I wanted to shock him. But he didn’t even drop the meat. He just goes, “Oh, good for her.”

  No big deal to him, I guess. He’s always got a bimbo delight. And Amanda says he had tons of affairs when he was married. She won’t even talk to him anymore. Mostly because the marriage breaker was Amanda’s assistant gymnastics coach.

  If Amanda ever showed up on Sunday nights, Dad would ask her where she wanted to go. If I was popular like her, I bet he’d ask me once in a while. Maybe Dad w
ould be all proud of me, and say, Hey, you pick the restaurant this time, and remind me to buy you a car next year so you can drive to all those parties you keep getting invited to and take your girlfriend Gina out for steak and french fries. He might call them pommes frites, but I’d forgive him.

  Monday, September 13

  Wow! A girl actually talked to me today. Not Gina, but still. A 10th grader!

  I was walking out of Spanish class when it happened. This girl, Sydney Holland, goes, “Did you understand what Ms. Padilla was saying? Because I only got like half of it.” And I said, “That’s twice as much as I got.”

  It’s bad enough Ms. Padilla won’t use English on us, but she speaks Spanish like an auctioneer on speed. Half the time I’m sitting in a daze, hoping she didn’t just say something like, Anyone who doesn’t understand me will automatically fail my class.

  So in the hallway Sydney Holland and I compared notes. She seems smart and very nice. Plus she has big round breasts.

  Wednesday, September 15

  I finally made a friend today. Nate Karnowski. I was sitting by myself in the crapeteria, and this other guy sat down diagonal to me and started reading Waiting for Godot. Encouraged Reading book. I figured I could either spend another lunch period staring at my tray and wishing Brian was here, or I could try to talk.

  It took me 3 minutes to come up with something to say. Finally I go, “You like the book?” He smirked at me. So then I said, “I read it last month, just came out of the coma.”

  The smirk turned into mega-smirk and he passed the book across the table to me. Taped inside some of the pages were these playing cards with naked ladies on them. Totally naked. Except some had on necklaces or boas or hats. One wore a gold belt. Just the belt.

  I smirked right back at him and said, “Great book. Where’d you get that stuff?” And he says, “Reno. My dad bought them.” His dad. Cool. Which is what I said. “Cool.” And he shrugged like it was no big deal and stuck out his hand to shake and goes, “Nate Karnowski, I’m in Honors English with you.”

  So we’re friends now. He’s into football too. Watching, not playing. I’m pretty sure he’s a couch potato like me. We might go to the game together next week. I’d like to see the Hunk fumble the ball and lose the game, or at least get knocked on his ass real hard.

  Saturday, September 18

  I think everyone on the planet went on a date tonight except me. Amanda and her best friend Bulimic Michele are out with these twins who are supposedly the hottest straight guys in the whole school.

  Doctor Vermin took Mom out again. I swear he smells like dental office even in our house. First thing he does is rough up my hair. Second thing he does is call me Mikey. Third thing he does is ask How’s school. Lost 3 points right there, all in a row.

  Mom wore a new green pantsuit that made her look like a stalk of celery. Verm had this expression on his face. If he was a dog, he’d be panting and wagging his tail. Actually, if he was a dog, he’d be one of those smelly fat ones that always lies on the chair you wanted to sit on.

  I headed toward my room. “You’ll be okay?” Mom asked. She still isn’t used to going out at night. I reminded her that I’m 14 already.

  Then Vermin says, “You want to come with? Any movie you want to see?” I told him I liked horror flicks, just because adults never go to those. Mom sighed like I’m such a disappointment. She did that thing where she goes, “Oh, Mike,” and she sounds just like Carol Brady on those rare episodes where she isn’t all chipper. Mom goes, “You like other stuff too.” Verm butts right in, suggesting all these movies, like he’s already part of the family.

  What if someone from school saw me at the movies with my mom on a Saturday night? Total patheticity. And who would want to smell that Novocain or whatever it is all night? And watch him put his chubby arm around her?

  I tried to think up something polite to get out of it. Then Vermin started stroking Mom’s palm with his thumb. I just said, “Nah.”

  After they left, I called Gina, hoping maybe the Hunk had stood her up and she’d be home. That’s really mean, hoping like that. I guess I’d have felt pretty bad if she’d answered the phone all disappointed. No, I wouldn’t. The phone just rang and I hung up before the 6th ring when the machine picks up.

  So he probably didn’t stand her up, but I still bet I’m much more sensitive than he is. I’m Captain Sensitive. Like if I ever had a date with Gina, I’d bring flowers and/or chocolates and I’d ask her where she wanted to go. Even if she suggested some dumb Mandy Moore movie, I’d say, What a great idea.

  And I bet I’m smarter than Hunk. A guy named Hunk can’t be smart. My brain could probably eat his for lunch and still want dessert. I’ll invite Gina over for Scrabble so she can make the Mike/Hunk brain comparison.

  Sunday, September 19

  Dad canceled on me tonight. Says he has a cold.

  Meanwhile, Mom’s been a total nag. Threatening to make me volunteer at Golden Village Retirement Home with her. She gave the old lecture about joining clubs and stuff instead of vegging around the house all day with the remote glued to my hand, feeling sorry for myself about Gina.

  “Thanks for the idea of gluing the remote to my hand. Hadn’t thought of that one,” I said. You could just see her face burning up. I’m never having kids. We’re such brats. You can almost understand why Dad moved out.

  How does she know I like Gina?

  Monday, September 20

  Gina came over to play Scrabble. She hasn’t been here in 37 days. We used to play like every weekend. Then last year she was always at someone’s party or at the mall with her pretty girls group, or worst of all, at the movies with a guy. Arranging a Scrabble game with her nowadays is an ordeal. It’s worth it though.

  She takes forever to put down her tiles, but that’s okay. While she’s frowning over them and rearranging them a zillion times, I stare at her boobs. I wonder if Gina likes them. Do they throw off her balance? Did she have to buy all new shirts?

  She won the game. So much for impressing her with my brainpower. It’s not really fair, because I couldn’t concentrate and keep Rex under control at the same time. Just to calm him down, I had to stare at the wall and take 3 all the way to the 6th power. Then Gina swiped an eyelash off my cheek with her little hand, and Rex rose like pizza dough. I was forced to list the 13 original colonies in alphabetical order.

  After the game we ate vanilla ice cream at the kitchen table. As soon as we sat down, Mom decided she had to empty the dishwasher. What a coincidence. I had my usual Godzilla-sized bowl, while Gina ate about a teaspoonful.

  Out of masochism or something I asked how her date went, and that set her off. I had to hear how the Hunk brought her a rose, and about his cool truck he drove with one hand, holding hers with the other, and how he held her hand the whole time over dinner, and how she hated having a curfew.

  What did she want to do with the Hunk late at night anyway? I don’t want to know.

  While Gina jabbered about the Hunk, Mom gave me pity stares. At one point, Mom held this big pile of knives in her hand, like to stab Gina if she said one more stupid thing about the Incredible Hunk. I guess it’s obvious I have a crush on her. Or maybe Mom read my journal.

  MOM, IF YOU’RE READING THIS RIGHT NOW, I HOPE YOU KNOW YOU’RE TOTALLY VIOLATING MY TRUST AND SCREWING UP MY PSYCHE, AND IF YOU EVER DO IT AGAIN, I’LL RUN AWAY FROM HOME OR SOMETHING. ALSO, DUMP DR. BERMAN.

  Thursday, September 23

  In my quest to show Gina what a nice guy I am, and to get Mom to stop nagging me, and because Amanda was blaring Bridges of Madison County on TV tonight, I went with Mom to Golden Village.

  I got to play Scrabble. Against an old geezer in a wheelchair though. Called himself Duke. His real name is probably Wilbert or something. Within the first 6 minutes, he put down two 7-letter words I never heard of. After I challenged him on wych and lost my turn, he did an annoying laugh involving a lot of head bobbing. I just sighed.

  He said, “You
seem glum.” Glum. Geezer expression meaning bummed. I said, “You’re kicking my butt.” Then he goes, “But you seemed glum when you got here. Not that you’re exactly at Disneyland.” He leaned his wrinkly face into mine and said, “Don’t listen when people tell you high school is the best time of your life. It’s mostly crap about popularity, and jock worship, and tests on subjects you have no use for.”

  And I’m like, “Don’t forget pimples. Zits can really make a person glum.” And he nodded like one of those bobble-head dolls.

  Great pep talk. But, I don’t know, I guess it was good to hear someone else say high school sucked. Even an ancient guy.

  He ended up winning the game. Beat me by more than 100 points. Afterward, I had to shake his hand. It felt like a peach that you forgot about in the refrigerator for 3 weeks.

  Mom’s pretty great, I guess, to go over there every week. Duke said if I come back, he’ll give me some Scrabble tips. I don’t think I have it in me.

  Saturday, September 25

  I’m so busted. Nate says Mom looked like she wanted to kill me on the ride home last night. But I’m still alive, so it was worth it.

  What a night. Went to my first high school football game. We got there really early because Nate wanted to sit right in front of the cheerleaders. We could see their nipples all perked up in the cold air. We bought some 7UPs at the snack stand, and then Nate took out this bottle of vodka from his jacket pocket. He said he swiped it from his mom. At first I felt like my mouth was on fire, but after a few sips I sort of got used to it.

  Gina sat right next to me. First she came up behind me and covered my eyes. As soon as she said, “Guess who” in her sweet high voice, I knew it was her. I said, “Principal Craterface,” and Gina cracked up. When she laughed, her boobs moved up and down against my back. I think it was her boobs. I’m pretty sure I felt them.