Summer of Seventeen by Jane Harvey-Berrick
It’s like an unwritten rule that when someone’s parents go away, the party’s at their place, especially if they’ve got a pool. Then you hope that no idiot tweets it or you’re overrun with strangers and tourists.
I heard about the party from Sean, and he heard about it from Rob, and Rob had been invited by Trey’s sister who he knew from pol-sci, and he’d bumped into her when he was buying more grip-tape for his skateboard. That’s small towns for you.
I didn’t mention it to Yansi because I knew that she’d be pissed at not being allowed to go. Yeah, not the smartest thing ever. Because, like I said, small town, and word gets around.
Trey’s family were well off. Maybe not rolling in money, but his mom and dad both worked, and Trey and his sister were planning on going to expensive Boston colleges. Plus, each had their own brand new Ford SUVs, so they seemed well off to me. I wondered if Trey knew the price of a gallon of milk.
The evening began just the same as all the others that summer.
It had been a long day—hot, hard work, and the end of my second week working for Yansi’s old man. Today it had been a new client for Mr. Alfaro, and a garden gone wild, if the scratches up my arms were anything to go by. I’d spent the afternoon wrestling a tree stump out of the sun-dried dirt; a small tree—but a fucking enormous bastard of a stump. I won in the end, and felt like a gladiator, sawdust and blood fresh on the ground. And a strange satisfaction looking down into that hole, the defeated stump on the back of Mr. Alfaro’s truck. Now who’s the man, motherfucking stump!
Exhausted, I’d fallen asleep for a couple of hours when I got home, my alarm waking me after what seemed just a minute. Then I stumbled to the shower like one of the zombies from Day of the Dead, but with better hair.
The hot water felt like heaven and the only thing that would have made it better was if Yansi was there with me. Just thinking about her hands sliding over my body had me too hard to think straight.
But even after taking care of that, I was still out of the bathroom in less than 10 minutes.
Julia used to spend two hours getting ready for a party when I was a kid. It drove me crazy because she’d hog the bathroom, and one time I even had to take a piss in the backyard because she’d been in there for so long and wouldn’t come out until she’d glued on her false eyelashes.
I like girls with makeup just fine, but false eyelashes seem like cheating. It’s like when you cop a handful, and you’re aching for soft, warm flesh, but instead you get one of those padded bras or even a pair of socks. That happened to Aidan once. Fact.
But Julia didn’t go to parties anymore or hardly ever, although she still had a set of false eyelashes that she kept in the bathroom. They creeped me out, looking like spiders in a jam jar. Freaky.
These days, she just stayed in with Ben, watched a movie and ordered take-out. Yawn.
I couldn’t afford to buy take-out for myself, and I hated her choice of movies. Just sayin’. I usually mooched some food then headed out. I don’t know how Ben put up with all that chick flick shit. But he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind about much at all. Or maybe she kept his balls in a box in the closet. That seemed possible, too. Or maybe she was really good at giving head—the thought made me gag.
Ben was in the kitchen when I went to hunt for food. I could have hugged him—in a bro way. Yeah, really, because he was phoning for pizza and automatically ordered me a spicy meat feast with extra cheese when he saw me. He might have been boring, but he was okay—treated Julia good, which I thought was cool of him, even when she was a total bitch. Maybe he had a few screws loose, but like I said, nothing fazed him.
I wondered if he was like that at work, fixing people’s plumbing; slow, steady, treading calmly through the day. Trustworthy, yeah; but boring, oh yeah.
Julia was slumped in front of the TV, watching some reality show. She said she hated them, but she always watched them. Cue laughter.
“Pizza in ten minutes,” said Ben, sitting next to her on the sofa and slinging his arm around her shoulders.
“Ugh, it’s too hot,” she moaned, so Ben shifted his arm away again.
He didn’t even roll his eyes. I would have. In fact I did. I couldn’t figure out why the hell anyone would date my sister. I suppose she was kind of okay looking, but dear sweet baby Jesus, she could complain about having sand on the beach.
I turned away and stared out at the weed-filled back yard.
“God, I’m so bored!” whined Julia. “How come we have to stay in every night? Why can’t we go out and do something for a change?”
Even though she was talking quietly, I could hear her complaints all the way across the living room and into the kitchen. Not that our house was large or anything, but I could hear every word. Ben answered easily, like he always did.
“You said we’re saving money.”
Julia made a sound like she wanted to disagree but couldn’t deny it, and I really wanted to laugh.
There was no soda in the fridge, so I poured myself a glass of water. I knew she’d bust a blood vessel if I swiped one of Ben’s beers in front of her.
But when I walked into the living room, it was my turn to get chewed out anyway. Guess she really was bored.
“Where are you going tonight, all dressed up?”
Dressed up? That was funny. I was wearing ripped jeans and a band tee. But I’d had my weekly shave; maybe that was what she meant.
“Out,” I said shortly, more from habit than because I wanted to make her mad.
“Out where?” she snapped.
I considered whether or not to answer, but I couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to tell her, unless I just wanted to piss her off some more. And I was feeling mellow because, hey, stump-killer here.
“Party,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Where?”
“A friend’s.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“No one you know.”
She ground her teeth.
Ben coughed and threw me a pleading look. Okay, so maybe she did get to him. Maybe the guy was one click away from postal after all.
I headed back to the kitchen to swipe that beer. Suddenly, I was feeling like I needed it. Ben followed me.
“She just worries about you, bud.”
I considered that while I took a long drink of beer. Did she worry? Because last I’d heard she was planning to put me in foster care. Like I’d fucking let her. Yeah, I’d found my reason not to answer her. Sorry, Ben.
Then I heard the front door open and Marcus walked into the living room. Nice timing. He could be Julia’s distraction.
“Hey, Julia,” said Marcus. “’Sup?”
“Hi! I thought you were working.”
“No, night off.”
“Are you going to that party with Nicky?”
Wow, straight for the jugular.
He laughed lightly. “Well, I’m going to a party. Couldn’t say if it’s the same party Nick’s going to.”
He strolled into the kitchen and a knowing smile crossed his face when he saw me sitting on the back porch with Ben, both of us drinking beer.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hey.”
“If it is the same party, I don’t want Nicky getting drunk,” Julia yelled after him.
Ben shook his head, and padded back into the living room.
“It’s Friday night,” I heard him say mildly. “Give the kid a break. We used to party at his age.”
“Don’t tell me how to handle Nicky!” Julia snapped.
Great. So now I needed handling. There was an awkward silence.
Marcus winked at me and helped himself to a beer as well, then leant against the doorjamb looking into the living room.
I stayed on the porch, pressing the cold can against my head, trying to calm the fuck down from a sudden burn of anger that hadn’t been there two minutes ago.
“What are you guys watching?” Marcus asked.
“Some weirdo film about a kid who wants to screw a granny.”
“Ben!” snorted Julia. “ ‘Harold and Maude’ is a classic! It’s about love and life and possibilities.”
“You’re kidding!” Ben laughed. “Some old wrinkly screwing a freaky mama’s boy who’s got a horse fetish.”
“Hearse, not horse!” Julia argued back sharply.
“Whatever,” yawned Ben. “Can’t we watch something else?”
“No. Anyway, Marcus likes this film, too.”
Ben coughed discreetly, but was smart enough not to challenge her directly.
“You’d rather watch ‘Die Hard 4’, wouldn’t you, buddy?” he asked, sounding like he was begging.
“I’m easy,” Marcus replied.
Ben chuckled.
“Yeah! That’s what I heard. Last night, huh? Lucky bastard!”
Julia’s reaction was shocked, and it made me want to laugh out loud.
“Ben! I’m sitting right here!”
Ben coughed again.
“Sorry.”
“And I don’t think it’s something to joke about!” Then Julia opened fire on Marcus. “You shouldn’t treat women that way.”
He looked surprised at being the subject under attack.
“What way?”
“Like objects!” she clipped out.
Ben groaned. “Leave it alone, babe.”
Julia ignored him. He was probably used to that.
“You shouldn’t just sleep around.”
Marcus laughed.
“I’m not forcing anyone … I like women. Women like me.”
But Julia was starting to snort smoke and fart fire. If she’d grown wings and a forked tail, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Sometimes I couldn’t believe we were related. Well, half related.
“And one night stands?” she snapped. “How do you justify that?”
Marcus continued to stand there casually drinking his beer. “I didn’t think I had to.”
“You know what I mean! It’s just using people. Using women.”
There was a long pause, then Marcus said, “Maybe they’re using me.”
I think he had a point.
Funny enough, Julia didn’t.
“Oh, come on!”
Marcus didn’t reply, so she changed tactics. She should have been a lawyer. My sister loved to argue. Me, not so much.
“Don’t you want to meet someone special? You know, settle down? You can’t keep drifting all your life, can you?”
Why the hell not?
Marcus’ reply was casual.
“I’ll let you know.”
“I mean, what do you want to do with your life?”
I could hear Ben clearing his throat, and I imagined him wishing he was anywhere but here. He hated arguments, too. God knows why he was with Julia.
“Jeez, babe! Give the guy a break.”
Ben was probably thinking the same thing as me—that we shouldn’t piss off the guy who paid us rent money.
“I’m sure Marcus can answer without your help!” Julia hissed.
Ben surrendered and retreated back to the kitchen for another beer. He looked at me and muttered, “Hurricane Julia is about to make landfall.”
I wanted to ask him why he put up with her. No way I’d let some chick talk to me like that. Yansi was ballsy, but she wasn’t a bitch.
“Isn’t there anything you want to do?” Julia said to Marcus. “I mean, anything more?”
Marcus’ voice was calm, but I thought he sounded like he was getting pissed. There was an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before.
“I go where I want, when I want. I earn my money stateside in the summer, and go somewhere warm with waves in the winter. I’m happy. How many people can say the same?”
I didn’t think she’d have a comeback to that, because hell yeah! It sounded good to me. Really good.
But Julia wasn’t finished.
“That’s fine when you’re 27. But what about when you’re 37? Or 47? Or 57? What then?”
Marcus laughed. He freakin’ laughed at her. Guy should get a medal.
“What do you think I should do? Get married, have 2.5 children, get a ‘real’ job like you, get a mortgage? Then what? Wonder where my life went? How is that way better? I mean, husbands are kind of irrelevant, aren’t they?”
What?
“What?”
Julia spat the words like someone had put mustard on her PB&J sandwich instead of peanut butter.
“Well, what’s the point?” asked Marcus coolly. “Women don’t need them. You do fine without us. Nicky is all right without a dad, isn’t he?”
Ben threw me a worried look, and my brain crackled with sudden tension.
“You think?” Julia’s brittle laugh carried clearly into the kitchen, sending nervous tremors throughout my body. “You don’t think Nicky is fucking up his life? He’s drunk or high every weekend. You’ve had to carry his sorry ass back here once already. He has no clue what he wants to do with his life. You think Nicky is doing okay?”
I felt sick, hearing what she really thought of me.
There was a pause and Ben said quietly, “She doesn’t mean it like that, buddy.”
I couldn’t look at him, and I just gripped the can of beer in my hands a little tighter. I worked, I gave her money for groceries, I went to school, I wasn’t flunking out. What more did she want? Why was it never enough? I chugged the beer and tossed the can into the backyard where it landed in a patch of overgrown grass.
“But the way you live,” huffed Julia, “it’s so rootless? Don’t you miss your family?”
Marcus snorted. “No, not particularly.”
Right now I was feeling pretty much the same. I wouldn’t miss Julia if she moved to Mars. In fact, I’d throw a fuckin’ party.
Julia’s voice was tight, as if Marcus was casting some judgment on her. Maybe he was. Maybe we looked like a bunch of pathetic losers to him.
“What’s wrong with getting married and having kids?”
Marcus laughed, his voice colder now.
“Nothing. Marriage is a great institution. If you like institutions.”
“Then what do you want?” Julia persisted.
“I want something more than that.”
“It sounds like less.”
“It’s just not for me.”
“Not ever?”
There was a long pause, real long, and I was straining to hear what was happening. But then Marcus spoke again.
“Julia, I don’t sleep with my friends.”
Ben stood up and walked out into the backyard, kicking my empty can and staring at the weeds. He didn’t look happy. I guess everyone has a breaking point. I didn’t know why, although I could take a damn good guess, but Ben had just reached his.
Julia’s voice was unnatural, and a high-pitched laugh escaped her.
“I should hope not!”
There was another pause.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” said Marcus.
I wondered if maybe that’s exactly what he wanted to do after the way she’d tried to tear him apart, his life, the way he lived. She tried to do it to me often enough.
“No, of course not. I’m not…” she stuttered.
Marcus must have walked out of the room, because his voice was fainter now.
“Think I’ll go take a shower. Later.”
I looked outside where Ben was staring at a crack in the concrete slabs that paved the grill area.
I stood up and walked into the living room.
“What the fuck was that?”
Julia looked guilty, then bristled immediately.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And don’t curse.”
“That with Marcus. Seriously, sis, were you hitting on him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” she snapped, but my eyes narrowed when I saw her lips tremble. “
Smelled like bullshit to me.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I laughed coldly. “But good to know you think I’m a fuck up.”
A dull red flooded her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean…”
“Save it!” I snapped. “I don’t give a shit.”
I didn’t even stay for the pizza. I’d throw up if I tried to eat it now. I was hot with fury, and cold and raw at the same time.
I stormed out of the house, taking pleasure in the flakes of paint that shivered down from the cracked doorframe as I slammed the door behind me.
Which was why, four hours later, I was totally shitfaced, having drank God knows how many beers and shots of tequila.
My head was pounding in time to the music leaking through the walls.
“Oh, man, you’re wasted!” sniggered Sean, his words soft and slurred, like unset Jell-o.
I stared up at him and grinned. “Yeah!”
He collapsed down next to me on the sofa, sucking on a blunt.
“This will sober you up,” he said, passing it over.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be sober; my head was too crowded when I could think straight. I was happy floating away on a sea of alcohol, but I sucked in the smoke anyway because I was too hammered to say no.
The sweet smell got stuck in my nose and made my eyes water.
I was still in a confused haze when Erin Lenz flopped down into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Shotgun,” she whispered and mashed her mouth against mine.
I coughed in surprise, and she inhaled my smoke.
“Thanks,” she said, making herself comfortable.
Sean was pissing himself laughing. I tried to push her off, but she clung to me tightly.
“Why don’t you like me?” she murmured loosely against my neck. “I’ve always liked you.”
I pushed again, but she tightened her grip then started kissing up my neck.
I tried to unhook her hands, but every time I freed one, she’d grip onto my t-shirt with the other. It was like wrestling an octopus.
In the end I gave up, leaving her plastered across my chest. I closed my eyes, too tired to fight her off. I figured if I fell asleep on her, she’d give up.