Summer in the City/The Lovin' Spoonful
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He is in deep shit.
After Wendy yanked Squints up she proceeded to drag him by the arm all the way through the chain-link gate at the side end of the pool. Me and the boys followed them closely, calling for Squints all the way.
It was quite the scene.
"Squints!"
"Squints, man!"
We all sounded like a crowd of seagulls chanting his name as he was pulled to his doom. I still couldn't believe he'd actually done it – he kissed Wendy!
Wendy had every right to ban Squints like she did. And call him a pervert, and it would've been fully justified in my book if she never spoke to him again– but she did, and that's another story.
As horrified and frustrated and disgusted, and a little insulted as I was by what Squints had done, for being a female after all, I still had to admit: He had some balls. And true– if it was me he'd kissed I'd probably have socked him in the nose– but he was my friend, and a strange part of me was actually proud of him. Squints had always been the geeky underdog of the group, and from that day forward all of the guys actually listened to him when he told them to bug off on the teasing.
As angry as I'd ever expected Wendy to be, she dragged that boy all the way through the gate, and onto the green grass out near the sidewalk, and then she shoved him down on the lawn.
Half of us went rushing to his side, myself included, while the rest of the boys ran to the locker room doors where the other lifeguards were throwing out our clothes. After grabbing a dazed Squints off the ground we made a run for the far side of the exterior of the vvpcp– a narrow alleyway between the fence and some sheds that served as a shortcut back to the sandlot.
"Oh hey, hey hey, here's your glasses," Ham said, holding them out to Squints after giving him his clothes. "Did you plan that?"
"Of course I did– been plannin' it for years."
Yeah, right. Squints totally lost his shit.
I wanted to talk to him about it, but I was still speechless. I slowed to a stop amongst the crowd of boys who were now putting their clothes back on outside the pool. We were on the only end of the fence that didn't have a door to get through, so we were safe from Wendy, and safe from the other other lifeguards who totally had he hots for her – go figure.
"Wait, where are my clothes?" I asked, thinking aloud.
"I got this," Scotty said, handing me my towel.
"Thanks Scott. But where's my–"
"–Here," Benny said, tossing me my shorts over Ham's head. I caught them, somehow and just nodded at Benny.
"Thanks."
Wether his face flushed or not, I couldn't tell because he bent down and hid his head as he tied his old converse. Quickly, I slid my legs through my shorts and slung my towel over my shoulder.
I looked for Squints, and turned around to catch the last glimpse of the smile he shared with Wendy, and that taunting wave she sent. Everyday when he passed by that pool, she's smiled at him since.
After staring at his future-lover, Squints let go of the fence and came back to us, smiling brighter and dorkier than ever before. It was sweet, I gotta admit.
We were banned from the pool after that. Too hyped to play baseball that day, we all went home to stay safe from the heat.
✱ ✱ ✱ ✱
Later that evening, Bill actually showed up for supper. Before we ate, I was folding laundry with Scott.
"Man.. Squints," he said, handing me a towel to fold.
Curious to hear what Scotty thought about what Squints had done, I held my mouth shut to let him speak.
"He's crazy."
"Yeah," I agreed, dropping the towel on the bed.
"What would you do if someone kissed you like that?"
Whoah. He actually asked that.
"Er.. uh. I'd punch them in the face, I guess."
Scott chuckled in a cute little tone. "But.. but what if it was someone you lik– um, someone, uh.. likable?"
I grinned, the amusement slurring my voice. "What? Like who?"
Benny.
"Um.. Elvis?"
I laughed, and Scotty flushed. "Elvis? Elvis Presley, as in the much-older-than-me rockstar?"
"I-I don't know," Scotty stuttered. "He was the only cool person I could think of besides–"
Scott trailed off, as if he was embarrassed to tell me who he thought was cool just cause I was his sister or something.
"Besides who?" I asked, curious. "Who else do ya think is cool, Scott?"
"Well, uh.. gee."
"Come on, just tell me," I begged. "Tell me and I'll finish this up myself."
His eyes flickered in temptation as he eyed the looming pile of clean laundry that we were expected to take care of. Then the excitement in his eyes faded.
"Oh, I don't- I don't mind helping you," he said. "I like it when we talk."
"Aww.."
"But hey, if you're gonna get weird, then maybe I'll take you up on that offer," he said, holding his hands up as if he was preparing to defend himself from a hug attempt.
Scotty, don't you ever turn into a stupid boy, I thought. And always love me forever.
It was so cute how innocent he was, trying to act cool by pretending he had no interest in me after admitting he likes our talks. Ha.
"Fine. Just tell me," I pleaded.
"Okay.. Well, Benny's pretty cool, right?"
Scotty looked up at me, but he didn't have to look up much because he was getting to be my height – it was bothering me. Scotty then tried to justify himself:
"I- I mean, Benny's real good at, like, baseball and stuff. He's fast. And he's just, he's good. He's cool."
Quietly, I was biting my lip– bad habit I couldn't help myself from whenever I was thinking hard about something. I didn't care enough to try and stop myself though, whenever I caught it.
"Dad would like him. Don't cha think?"
Dad.
A small knot hidden within the depths of my heart yanked itself tighter – something that only happened whenever my mom or my brother mentioned my dad. They never mentioned him much, and whenever they did, they spoke of him so nonchalantly.
It drove me nuts.
"Um.. uh, yeah," I said at last. "Benny – he's pretty cool. I guess."
You guess? You guess? Shaye, honey you think that boy is cooler than the freaking North Pole–
SHUT UP.
"You won't tell the guys I said that, will you?" Scott asked.
I studied the fear of embarrassment in his eyes before I answered. "No, I won't tell."
"Promise?"
"As long as you don't tell them I agreed with you too, then yeah, I promise."
"Thanks."
"Mmhm," I mumbled, glad my secret was safe.
Scotty went back to folding, and I casually pressed my palm to my far cheek to see if I was blushing.
Not looking up, Scott spoke again.
"What would you do if Benny kissed you like that?"
My heart stopped.
"Benny wouldn't do that–
"–I know, but what if he did?"
"He wouldn't."
Scotty faced me to make his next argument.
"Fine, but would you like it if he kissed you?"
What? Yeah, but..
"I, uh.."
"–Scotty! Sheila!" mom called. "Supper's ready! Come eat!"
Thank God.
Scott stared at me for a moment before glancing at the door, and I just stood there, stupidly.
"Uh, dinner," was all I managed to spit out before I regained my sense and hurried out of the room to eat.
✱ ✱ ✱ ✱
"So, Shaye, Scotty, you two have heard about the Independence Day barbecue tomorrow, haven't you?"
"Yeah!" Scott said, excitedly placing down his glass of milk on the table. "Food, fireworks, and baseball!"
Mom smiled at him, adoringly, and I glanced at Bill to see what he thought about it.
Bill was grinning a little, but at my mom, not Scotty. I guess it was sweet. Ish. Kinda. Maybe I was just jealous that my mom had someone to look at her like that and I didn't because my real dad was gone and Bill might ever see me as his own.. kid. I guess.
I was stirred from my thoughts after mom spoke to me, and I hadn't realized she'd been looking at me.
"Shaye?"
"Huh?"
"Sheila."
"Wha– oh," I sat up straighter in my chair. "Um. Pardon?"
Unimpressed, my mother closed her eyes for a moment. She put down her utensils before speaking at me in that tone– that stupid, condescending tone was back all because I'd zoned out for a second and responded to her "unladylike."
"Sheila, I was hoping you would help me prepare a dish tomorrow for the neighbors to enjoy. I was thinking a casserole or my homemade potato salad."
I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell her I couldn't help, that I'd be playing baseball all night, but that wouldn't fly. Maybe I could just get it done quickl–
"Sheila? What do you think?"
"Oh. Um.."
She was still looking at me, and I didn't know what she wanted me to say.
What do I say?
I glanced at Scotty who was staring at me, along with Bill.
"Which dish?"
"Uh. The um.. the– the casserole, thing. That sounds good."
Mom nodded. She picked up her fork again and almost resumed eating her pork roast.
"Bu– but a potato salad, that's a– that's a barbecue-y thing, right?"
"It is a more casual dish, yes. But it's not just a 'barbecue-y thing.'"
Okay, okay. Gosh. I'm just trying my eat here. Food-talk isn't really my thing — unless I'm saying "Woah, this is amazing!" or "Oh my gosh. What the hell is this?"
"I'd personally prefer it if you made your homemade potato salad," Bill chimed in.
He didn't look at me when he said it. He never looked at me when he spoke, unless he was scolding me. I couldn't tell if Bill was making a weak attempt to relieve me of my mother's fixation as means to help me, or to steal my attention for himself because he couldn't bear to have me be the important one at the moment, or any moment for that matter.
I wish I was at Kate's house. I wish Mr. Greene could do all my cooking and let me be me. I miss Kate. She only left this morning. This has been a long day. I wish my dad was here..
Somehow I made it through that dinner. I shoved my stupid pork roast down my throat and I bit my tongue until my mother asked me a question. I pretended to be a proper lady all the while wishing I could just leave the damn house and walk far away, or go to Benny's house, or find a way to Washington to be with Kate.
But I finished my dinner and my mother decided to be merciful– on Scotty, at least. Bill went to his den. Mom decided she'd finish he laundry and told me to do the dishes instead, all by myself. Just because I was a stupid girl. Ugh.
That night I fell asleep wearing my dad's old glove on my right hand, clutching Benny's old black hoodie in my left.