Species of Summer

6. dvash

6. dvash

So I lost my virginity to Shaked this week. That was cool. After Friday night, she was attached to me all of Saturday. Like, every time I left a room she would come with and it was a bit much, but she had just given me a BJ, so I didn't complain. And I didn't complain on Saturday night, when she dragged me into her bedroom and locked the door, defiling me without a hint of regret. That was fun. Definitely an experience in Israel that I won't forget. But it's Tuesday now, and I've been walking on eggshells all over the house. Not because of Jack or Ofri. No, we're still tight. It's Zohar who isn't really "digging" me at the moment.

I think it's because of the thing at the bar and whatever Shaked said to her. It definitely wasn't filled with sisterly love, that's for sure. Zohar has kind of been ignoring me and going out of her way to make sure that we're not in each other's ways. Maybe she's just, like, uncomfortable about Shaked and I being together physically or whatever. I don't know. What I do know is that since Nana, Shaked, and Amir have all emptied out because of this little thing called "the army," it's just Zohar and me and it's SUPER awkward between us.

Like, awkward is no big deal, but when it's combined with Zohar's overly politeness, the air just makes me want to cringe. Because it's not natural and it's not how it's supposed to be and it's just downright AWKWARD. Especially on a day like today, when it's just Zohar and me because Ofri and Jack are working.

I'm sitting in the front room, on my computer, checking Facebook. Zohar is at the dining room table, about three yards away, reading a book. Neither of us is talking or making any noise. The only sounds are the occasional flip of a page and the click of a mouse. Otherwise, it's silent.

I'm just thinking about how awkward it is, not really caring about world news or who posted what on whose wall. And then I'm like, "Zohar, I'm sorry." I don't really know what I'm sorry for, but apologizing seems like the best way to break this mute spell. But she doesn't respond, so I try in Hebrew: "Slicha."

A sigh escapes her mouth and for a second I think that I've won. I quickly realize, however, that while she may be about to speak, it isn't going to be a pleasant conversation about the historical significance of the Negev or anything like that. She slams her book closed, and then she says, "What for? You didn't do anything to me."

"Yeah, but," I say, "you just seem so dejected and you're not talking to me, so I'm assuming that I did something wrong."

"You did," she nods, "but it's not yours to apologize for."

"What? I know my Hebrew sucks, but my English is pretty okay, so would care to elaborate on that?"

"Shaked is the one who should be apologizing."

"Why?"

She purses her lips and pauses. Then she stands up from the table and approaches me on the couch. Settling down on the ottoman (not of the empire variety) by my legs, she goes, "Because she did something she said she wouldn't do."

"What's that?" I lean in closer, because it seems like it's about to be one of those big reveal moments.

"She kissed you," is all she says.

And then before I can stop it from coming out of my mouth, I'm like, "That's not all she did..." There's a stupid little smug smirk on my face that I literally can't help because I'm a jerk and because I f*cked an older girl (though, more accurately, she f*cked me). It's pretty hard not to smirk at something like that.

"I know," Zohar grits her teeth, "she told me back at the bar."

Now, I don't know to what extent Zohar was told about what happened back at the bar, but judging by her response, I can assume that she knows we got past hand holding. I say, "And is there a problem with anything that we did?"