by Bert Murray
“Are you kidding me?” Jasmine said to no one in particular.
“We need more water!” yelled one girl.
Her friends joined in, all demanding more water. A guy holding a hose came over and placed one end in the pool. He returned to the far side of the room and turned on the faucet. Once the water began to flow, one of the girls picked the hose up and seductively let the water run down the front of her shirt. She was wearing a white T-shirt, and it clung to every curve of her breasts. It was impossible not to look.
“Wet T-shirt contest by the bar!” yelled some unseen guy, and the room erupted into cheers.
The girls from the pool squealed and got out of the plastic pool. Sand stuck to their feet as they headed to the bar. Big Ty walked back over to Jasmine and me and put his arm around my neck.
“Isn’t this a blast? You can thank me tomorrow for this,” he said to me. “No offense, Jasmine.”
“Let’s go right now,” Jasmine said to me.
She seemed really pissed. I’d probably have to leave even though I didn’t want to.
“Don’t be like that, Jasmine. They’re just having fun,” Big Ty said. “It’s not like anyone is making you get up on that bar.”
“I so didn’t need to see this,” said Jasmine, pursing her lips and standing up.
“Just hang with me for a few minutes more, Jas,” I said. It would just be a little while longer. I didn’t want to leave just when the action began.
“Why? Why do you need to see this?”
I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just touched her shoulder gently.
A crowd of people had formed around the six scantily clad girls standing on top of the tiki bar. From below, a guy sprayed each girl with the hose, sending cheers throughout the crowd.
Jasmine turned red with anger. “I won’t stay here and watch these pathetic girls reduce themselves to pieces of meat just because they’re desperate for attention.”
Before I could speak, Big Ty did. “No one’s forcing them up there, Jasmine.” He stared at the girls.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Colin, I’m going to get nauseous if I have to watch this much longer.”
Big Ty turned to Jasmine. “Look at their faces. Don’t you see how happy the girls look standing on the bar?”
“Why don’t you get up on the bar and I’ll hose you down? That would be quite a show,” Jasmine said to Big Ty. She had an acid look on her face.
“Don’t give him any ideas,” I said, trying to lighten things up.
“Jasmine, you take life too seriously. These girls are really enjoying all the attention,” said Big Ty.
Jasmine cut in. “I totally disagree! I happen to think these girls are being exploited.”
I knew that I should support Jasmine—she was on the right side—but I couldn’t take my eyes off the action at the bar. The blonde all the way to the left had tied a knot in her pink T-shirt, exposing a tight stomach. She had a pierced belly button, and the silver charm glittered under the bar’s lights.
The next girl didn’t have a good body, but her breasts were fantastic. She made a show of unhooking her bra and maneuvering it so that she was able to get it out one of her sleeves. The spray of the water revealed breasts that were shaped like watermelons and nipples that were extremely large.
“Man, look at those things,” said Big Ty. “Are they not ripe or what?”
Guys began to hoot, and the girl swung the bra over her head like she was at a rodeo. She let it fly into the crowd and three guys fell to the ground lunging for it. One hopped up covered in wet sand and held it over his head in victory. The crowd cheered.
“This is utterly ridiculous,” said Jasmine. “Colin, I really want to leave now, right now.”
The cute Asian girl on the bar didn’t have much to show off. She was extremely flat-chested, but the cold water had stiffened her nipples. It was erotic and I couldn’t stop myself from staring.
“Damn, those things could cut glass,” said Big Ty.
Jasmine stood up. “Colin! Are you even listening to me? I told you I want to leave immediately.”
“OK, OK, let’s go.”
Big Ty shrugged, knowing I had no choice.
“Thanks for stopping by, Prep,” Big Ty, said, grabbing my hand and pulling me in. He slapped me twice on the back.
As we walked out of the room, I turned back for one more look at the bar. The guy with the hose sprayed water at the attractive brunette with the yellow T-shirt and double-D breasts. She thrust her breasts and hardened nipples forward and received the loudest applause of the evening.
As soon as we were outside, Jasmine shook her head and grimaced. “Colin, I thought you had some intelligence. But you’re no better than Karl or Big Ty. How could you stand there and watch those women be treated as sex objects? I’m really disappointed in you.”
“Oh, come on! It was harmless wasn’t it—just fun.”
“No, it wasn’t. Not at all. It was totally gross.”
I took her hand and said nothing.
“Don’t take me to any more frat parties.” She dropped my hand and picked up her pace.
We got back to the dorm and began arguing in her room. She told me that I was immature and that she’d lost a lot of respect for me. What a bummer. I thought I was in for a night of great sex. With the way things turned out, she wouldn’t even let me kiss her.
18.
I HAD AN idea. It was a pretty damn good idea if you ask me. I went down to the basement to tell Chester that I was going to help him out. It would be like Lennon’s Instant Karma. Saving one person, I’d read, was the same as saving the whole world.
“Chester, I’ve been thinking. Do you want me to set you up with Susan Mason sometime?”
“Set me up with Susan? Yes! You’d do that for me?” Chester grabbed his stomach.
“What’s wrong?”
“I sometimes get cramps when I talk about girls. Hey Jude—so you’re a Beatles fan, huh?” he asked, pointing to my T-shirt.
“Yeah. Totally.”
Chester scratched the stubble on his chin and pulled a plastic baggie out of his backpack. “Peace and love and all that ’60s stuff. Is that where you’re coming from?”
“Exactly, yeah, that’s it.”
“I’m into classic rock, too. I’m crazy about Pink Floyd. I like Dylan and the Grateful Dead and the Beatles also, of course.”
“Cool.” We really had the same taste in music.
Chester removed some stems and leaves and gently picked up the thin piece of white paper with both hands and started rolling a pinch of grass. He licked the edge of the paper and lighted it.
“Where are my manners? Want one?” he asked, smiling shyly. “It’ll take you to Disneyland.”
“No thanks.”
He whispered. “Do you ever wonder who Mr. Jones really is?”
“Who?”
“You know, Mr. Jones from Ballad of a Thin Man? Who was Mr. Jones?”
“I guess only Bob Dylan knows.”
“I’ve spent the last three days trying to figure it out. It was someone who was really into Fitzgerald books. That’s the clue,” said Chester, taking small drags on his joint. “I can’t think about anything else. It’s always on my mind.”
“Did you know the Beatles mention Ballad of a Thin Man in Yer Blues?”
Chester continued puffing on his joint. “Yeah, you’re right. I forgot that. All of this stuff is connected. You just gotta pull the threads together.”
I was really happy when I could find someone who liked to talk ’60s music as much as I did. Not that many people did. Karl, for example, was out of touch. He told me not to talk about John Lennon so much. “Find somebody alive,” he said. I tried to explain that nobody could be more alive than John. His songs were bringing truth and love everywhere. But Karl couldn’t hear me. A total waste of my energy. Chester got it. Yes, Chester was a little off key, but he knew his classic rock.
“I just can’t believe you can
set me up with Susan,” he said. “Me going on a date with her!”
Chester’s face lighted up when he talked about Susan.
“I said maybe. I still gotta ask her.” I hoped I could get them together and make it work for them.
“I have never seen anything like the size of her tits. They are huge. Like grapefruits.” Chester stared ahead as if her breasts were right in front of him.
“Chester, do you ever go to class? Or do you just sit here all day doing nothing?”
“Honestly, I only go to creative writing class. The rest don’t matter to me. I’m working on a play about Napoleon’s exile at Elba. He’s my hero. Napoleon. I haven’t typed anything up yet. It’s all up here,” he said, tapping the side of his head.
“Why is Napoleon your hero?” I wasn’t sure whether Napoleon was a hero or not.
“I’ll tell you why. For starters, he was short like me, so we have a lot in common. And he ended up emperor of the whole damn world. I think that’s pretty amazing.”
“Is that what you really want? To rule the world?”
“Yeah, why not? I need to get out of the basement. You know what I mean?”
“Sort of.” I could see there was anger buried in Chester. He knew he was a loser. That had to be a terrible thing. It was probably eating at him. I wondered whether a bomb was ticking inside him.
“Listen, man, you’re going to feel a hell of a lot better after the date,” I said.
Chester scratched his red hair again. “I’ll buy the deodorant. I promise I won’t smell. And by the way, if I see Lucy around I’ll say hello for you.”
I was puzzled. “Lucy? Oh, you mean Jasmine?”
“No, I mean Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds. And you call yourself a Beatles fan?”
I smiled. “Oh, right. Of course.”
At Dalton I had never fit into any of the cliques. I always prided myself on trying to make friends with different types of people. A lot of them were way out. But Chester was really a piece of work.
19.
ANOTHER FIGHT. THIS one was a hell of a lot worse. It started when I forgot to pick up tickets to the 7 o’clock showing of Back to the Future.
Jasmine squinted her eyes and squeezed her lips together. Her face flushed. “Shit. You’re just so irresponsible! I can’t count on you!”
“Stop yelling. Let’s talk about this calmly.”
I leaned against my desk and folded my arms. I didn’t want to fight with her. I took a few deep breaths to calm down. “I don’t understand where this is all coming from. Is it your time of the month?”
Jasmine threw her arms in the air. “Oh my God! Why does every guy think that if a girl is upset about something, it’s because she has her period? Maybe I actually have a reason to be pissed off!”
“It’s not like I was fucking around and just forgot to get the tickets. I was studying and lost track of time. It’s just a movie.”
Jasmine frowned and shook her head. “It’s more than just the movie. Today you showed me that if I want something done, I have to do it myself.”
“Are you listening to yourself? You sound crazy.”
She took a pillow off my bed and threw it at me. I deflected it with my hand and it fell to the floor.
I was getting angry. “Don’t throw things at me.”
“You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” she shrieked.
“I can tell you not to throw things at me.”
“Oh yeah?”
She grabbed a half-empty bottle of beer from off my dresser and threw it. She just missed me. It slammed against my poster of John Lennon in a leather jacket and crashed to the floor. Beer dripped down the wall.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck?”
Jasmine’s face was still bright red. Her fists were clenched at her side as she walked over and stood in front of me. “If you say something, I need to know that you really mean it. If I can’t count on you, we’re done.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a promise.”
She turned and started walking toward the door.
I was furious. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
Jasmine whipped around to face me.
“I’m not the one with the problem,” she said sharply.
I was sick of her criticism.
“You walk around with this holier-than-thou attitude and just expect me to take it. But I’m not your piss-boy, Jasmine,” I said.
“No, you’re not. Just an asshole.”
I pointed my finger at her. “Don’t call me an asshole.”
“Why not? You called me crazy.”
She was maddening. “Because you threw a bottle of beer at my head!” I walked over to my bed and flopped down on my back. She was a total drama queen. There were moments with Jasmine when I’d thought I was the luckiest guy in the world, but at this moment I thought I was cursed. I was afraid Jasmine was going to drive me crazy.
“Jesus. You’re always furious at me about something.” I dropped my head into my hands.
A look of resignation came over her face. She got up, walked to the bed and sat next to me. She started to rummage through her bag. She pulled out a joint and lighted up.
“I’m sorry that I forgot—” I said.
She cut me off. “The bottom line is that we’re too different for each other. You’re just not my true type. I don’t even know why I’m with you. What was I even thinking?” Jasmine took a drag of the joint and watched me through the smoke.
I was momentarily stunned. I needed to process what she’d just said. I got off the bed and paced. “What? Why’d you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut. I turned my desk chair toward her and sat on it. “I don’t understand. Are you still just trying to get back at me? I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again. I’ll try to remember. Why keep stabbing me in the chest over this?”
Her voice got softer, almost kind. “I’m not trying to hurt you. But the truth is that I like guys with more of an edge. I always have.”
20.
“GUYS WITH MORE of an edge.” How the hell could she stand there and tell me that? My head was throbbing and my heart was beating a mile a minute.
I ran my fingers through my hair. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re looking for some dick who treats you like shit. You want to be used and abused. That’s what you want.”
She stubbed out her joint on my bed frame. She left a dark smear of ash and singed wood. “Fuck you, Colin.”
“Look, Jasmine, I don’t know where all this is coming from or what’s suddenly happened. But you can’t screw with me like this. There are limits.”
“Oh really? I thought you said love has no limits.”
“I know what your problem is. You’ve been spoiled your whole life and think you can just dump on people.”
She sprang from the bed and slapped me hard across the face. “No one speaks to me like that, jerk-off.”
Damn. My cheek stung. She was way over the line. I jumped up from the chair and was poised to hit her back. But I caught myself.
“Don’t you ever hit me again,” I said slowly, enunciating every word.
She looked at me for a second and bam! She slapped me again. This time even harder. When she was angry, all hell broke loose. She was crazy. Even brutal. Fuck. I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. But I knew I’d better control the fury building inside me. The way I felt, anything I did would just make things worse.
“I’m going to take a long walk,” I said.
“Off a short pier, I hope.”
“Damn. That’s it. I’ve had it. I’m not taking any more of your crap. You’re such a bitch.”
Jasmine shook her head as she put her hand up to block my face from her view. She picked up her bag and walked toward the door. “I so don’t need this. You stay here. I’ll leave.”
“Jasmine, wait!” I’d crossed her lin
e when I called her a bitch. She’d never let me forget that.
Suddenly she began sobbing. I had to pull myself together and try to work things out. I walked over to her, but she turned her head away. I gently touched her arm. “Tell me. What’s really wrong?”
She sobbed harder. “You know what’s wrong. I’m not happy. You’re just not able to handle me. I thought you’d do better because you’re sensitive. But it’s not working.”
What did she want from me? I was trying my best. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. She was so hard to understand. Her mood changed on a dime. I had no clue to what she’d do or say next. I couldn’t prepare myself.
“All my life people have let me down. Everybody always wants something from me. I thought you would be different, Colin. But you’re not. You’re just like the rest of them.” She wiped away the tears that streamed down her face.
My anger evaporated and I started to feel like a bastard for screaming at her. She looked so vulnerable, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes a little bloodshot.
I put my arms around her. “I’m not using you. I love you.”
“Oh, please!” she said, pulling away from me. “You like walking around campus holding my hand so that other guys see you’re with a hot girl. So, yeah, you use me, too.”
I hated fighting with her. I wanted to make all her problems go away. She meant so much to me. All the love came floating back into me.
“Jasmine, that’s not true. Believe me. I love you.”
“If you loved me, you would’ve remembered to pick up the movie tickets.”
“Jesus, not the tickets again!”
We were going around in circles.
“Don’t you think that you make a big deal over little things?” I asked.
She stared at me. “It’s little things that matter to me. I’m not going to change. This is the way I am. Love me or leave me.”
I walked to the stereo and put the Doors on. I hoped it would make her feel better. Love Her Madly began. It was about a girl leaving her lover because she was all out of feeling for him. I pushed the hair away from Jasmine’s eyes and touched her cheek.
