I Love You, Beth Cooper (19 page)

“Woo,” she said, wiggling her finger inside.

Denis reacted much like those foxes in that video Ariel Kaminer always played in the cafeteria during lunch, in other words, as if 240 volts of electricity had been pumped up his anus. It really fluffed out his fur.

To say he flew off her would be an exaggeration, but he was off before either of them knew it was happening. He sat up on the dock, trying to catch his breath. This was where he would ordinarily spiral into abject mortification, wishing he were dead or invisible, or vaporized, accomplishing both. Instead he found that between gasps he was laughing, at himself, and happily.

“That was…
ha,
I was taken by surprise there,” he said. “It wasn't you. I'm sure you did it perfectly. I'm just…unaccustomed…Let's try that again, shall we?”

Beth was already sitting up, lighting a cigarette.

“It's okay.” She left her brassiere dangling around her neck.

“No, really,” Denis said. “I would very much like to.”

“Maybe later.”

Goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit goddammit.

Denis tried to quickly retrace the steps that had taken him to this point, not
this
point but the one immediately preceding it, the one with him on top of Beth. He couldn't find a way back on top. Events and
actions stretched into the past in an unbreakable chain of cause and effect, to the talk they just had, to all the talking, back through each of his injuries, each a new intimacy between them, to Rich answering the door when she arrived, to the moment in his speech in which he said
I love you, Beth Cooper,
to the week before, when Rich talked him into saying it, to the first time he sat behind her and smelled her hair. There were so many things he would do differently, but any of them done differently would have arrived at a different moment, and the odds of any of those other moments involving Denis Cooverman on top of Beth Cooper were incomprehensibly high.

And so, he decided to take another tack. It was a time-honored one, and one that showed our Little Denis was becoming a man, unfortunately.

“Beth,” he said, putting his arm around her. “I really do lo—”

“Oh,
fuck me!
”

Only she didn't mean that. She meant that Denis's face frightened and repulsed her. Given that only a few minutes before she had found it kissable, that was saying something. Now, by the light of the submerging moon, Beth could see that Denis's face, in addition to its previously catalogued irregularities, was a swarming mass of mosquito bites. So much blood coagulated and contused up there it was rather remarkable that he had been able to maintain an erection all this time.

Beth reached out and touched Denis's cheek gently.

“That must itch.”

“I was distracted before, but now it does, yeah.” Denis scratched, leaving four red streaks down his cheek.

“Don't do that,” Beth said.

Bloody mosquito bites were a turnoff with no turn back on, Denis realized. “So,” he asked for posterity,
“am I the most hideous creature you ever kissed?”

“God no,” Beth said without hesitation, making Denis feel both good and bad.

Beth stood.

Yes, Denis realized, it was time to go.

He turned to get up and that's when he saw the two headlights, very far apart, coming very fast.

THE HUMMER RUMBLED ONTO THE DOCK
at a speed inadvisably high for a rotting, waterlogged structure built by a drunk handyman. The vehicle didn't indicate any intention of stopping. When it did finally do so, five inches from the end, Denis was in Lake Hakaka. Beth stood at the edge of the dock, her knees touching the bumper.

SEX WAS A TERRIFIC ICEBREAKER.

“Really?” Rich asked Cammy. “You're studying acting at U of I?
¡Yo tambien!
I mean: Me, too. And directing. I'm in business but I'm transferring as soon as my dad's not paying attention.”

“Your dad sounds like a real prize.”

“Oh, you know, he doesn't hit me.”

They were all huddled together under the bearskin rug, nude but aggressively oblivious to their recent sexual interactivity.

“Wait, if you want to be an actress, why weren't you in drama club?”

“Survival.”

“Good call.”

“Hey,” Treece said. “What dorm are you in?”

“Florida Avenue.”

“Us, too!”

When Treece and Cammy decided to room together, they hadn't given it much thought. Not like they were now.

The silence was awkward for only a moment, because of all the screaming.

THREE NAKED TEENAGERS
shuffled to the window under cover of bear.

“What the Christ?” Rich said.

Sean was dragging Denis out from under the dock as the one called Dustin struggled to maintain control of Beth, whose kicking and shrieking showed a lot of stamina after the night she had had. Kevin was in the Hummer, trying to back up off the narrow dock and swearing quite a bit.

“How'd they find us?”

“Oopsie,” Treece said.

Cammy's right eyebrow requested elaboration.

“I kind of invited Sean up here before,” Treece explained, before getting defensive. “Well, he should've known he wasn't invited anymore!”

Rich had a strange feeling, a sort of déjà vu, that he had been here before, only he had been Kevin Bacon. And then he remembered where he had seen this:
“Come on, I love you.”—Kevin Bacon to Jeannine Taylor, shortly before they fornicated on a bunk bed and he was impaled by an arrow through the throat, in
Friday the 13th,
1980, Sean Cunningham.
And then he remembered the countless other times he had seen the same setup, always ending the same basic way, with sometimes clever variations.

It fairly freaked him out.

“Don't you
get
it?” He rattled the bearskin to get their attention. “We're stupid teenagers who just had sex in a cabin by a lake! We're dead! We are
so very dead.
”

Cammy was unfazed. “I'd hardly call that sex.”

Treece, meanwhile, was getting excited. She grabbed them both by the shoulders and momentously announced, “I have an idea!”

She was disappointed in their reaction.

“I have ideas!” she pouted.

“SEE THAT?”
Kevin jabbed at the front grille of the Hummer, which looked remarkably intact, considering. “My dad is gonna shit,” he whined, mostly to himself.

“That's your
father's
car?” Denis was bewildered. “I thought you were from Texas, or a swamp.”

“He's from Glenview,” Beth spat, still flailing against her restraint. “He went to Maine North. He only talks that way to be cool.”

“Talking like a hillbilly is cool?”

Kevin sauntered over to Denis. “We'll see how cool you talk when I'm through with y'all.”

“I'm pretty sure that's a misuse of
y'all.
”

Kevin whispered in Denis's ear: “By the time I am through with
y'all
, y'all will be
begging
me to kill
y'all.
”

Denis smiled.

Kevin took umbrage.

“Is that a
cliché?
” He pronounced it with excessive southern elongation. “Is
this
a cliché?”

Kevin punched Denis in the left eye, the only unaltered portion of his facial topology.

“Stop punching me!”
Kevin's Denis was a fluttery, effeminate clown. “Talk about your clichés.”

As he passed Beth, Kevin noticed her brassiere necklace. He registered this with feigned disinterest. He flicked her hard on the nipple.

“Dick,” she said.

“Whore,” he replied, both syllables.

“As matter of fact, it is,” mumbled Denis, returning to full consciousness a few beats behind the conversation. With his less recently pummeled eye, Denis watched Kevin return from the back of the Hummer with jumper cables.

“Gentlemen,” Kevin addressed his military colleagues, “remember all those excellent techniques the CIA taught us, which we were subsequently forbidden to employ?”

The troops nodded approvingly.

SUDDENLY, A FEROCIOUS WILDCAT
leapt out of the bushes!

“Ya!”
Sean said, throwing Beth at it.

Further suddenly, a huge owl flew at the Dustin guy!
He dropped Denis and batted about his head frantically.

“Run!” Treece yelled, holding the owl.

Cammy thrust the wildcat at Sean again, and he reflexively cowered.

Denis and Beth ran past Kevin, who, though dis
appointed in the performance of his troops, was amused by the outcome and not terribly concerned.

“Now just
what
did y'all hope to accomplish with that?” Kevin mused, as he pivoted into the barrel of a gun.

“Create a temporary distraction,” said Rich, “so they could escape and I could get the drop on you.” He wore the bear as a cowl and cape, its claws draped across his chest. Unlike the girls, he had remained otherwise naked, excepting the condom, which added a certain tribal quality. “Treece's idea.”

Treece curtseyed with her owl.

“You don't know how to shoot that thing.” Kevin took a step toward Rich.

Rich had never held a gun before, but had mimed one a million times. It was a showy, movie move, but the gun cocked just the same.

Kevin stopped. “It isn't even loaded.”

This was Rich's best impression.

“You gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”

“Oh,” Treece exclaimed, “I know that one!”

Kevin put up his hands. “Let's cool it, okay, guy?” He dropped the army accent, sounding much more like the teenager he still was. “We were just goofing on you. Maybe we went a little too far. But if you shoot us, what's that going to look like?”

“Self-defense,” Cammy said.

“Enough.” Denis shook his head. “Kevin, just get in your dad's car and drive away. Don't come back. Never bother Beth again…”

“Denis,”
Beth chided.

“Okay,” Denis revised. “Never bother
me
again.”

Rich gestured toward the Hummer with the rifle. “You heard the Coove.”

Denis rolled his eyes.

Kevin, Sean and Dustin marched with Rich at their
backs. Rich, imitating a move he had seen in
Cool Hand Luke, Deliverance, et al.,
stuck the rifle butt in the crook of his arm and let the gun swing down at his side, casual-like.

The barrel fell off.

“Yee,” Rich said in a tiny voice. He dropped to the ground, scrambling to stick the barrel back into the stock. He was quickly surrounded by three sets of black khakis.

RICH WAS ON HIS STOMACH,
his wrists and ankles bound together with jumper cables, the ends of which were clamped to his ears. He rocked back and forth on the dock.

“Could someone turn me around, so I could see?”

Sean kicked Rich in the head, spinning him toward the lake, where the action was.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Any time.”

Beth, Cammy and Treece watched forlornly as the canoe paddled further into the lake.

“Cheer up, ladies,” Sean said. “Once Michaels teaches mini-Romeo a lesson, we're going to party.”

“I'm kind of partied out,” Treece said.

“No,” Dustin said, “you're not.”

EARLY TWILIGHT
gloomily illuminated the small canoe as it slid across the dead lake. Denis was paddling. Kevin played coxswain, smacking Denis every few seconds to keep him on task. It was more humiliating than painful at this point.

“Your error was not striking when you had tactical advantage back there.”

Denis kept his head lowered and continued paddling.

“How long can you swim, Cooverman?”

Water was the only thing that had ever come close to
killing Denis. His mother had left the bathroom for only a moment, to get a cleaner towel. The toddler was facedown in the tub when she returned. He wasn't moving.

“I don't know.”

Baby Denis's eyes were open, watching. He was fascinated by the no-slip fish and was unaware he was drowning.

“Well then,” Kevin said, “let's you and me find out.”

Denis could swim forever. His father had made sure of that. The boy had been snorkeling since he was five, diving since he was ten. He had a half dozen international scuba certificates, including one for diving in caves. Water had tried to kill Denis, and he had made water his bitch.

So Denis was certainly not afraid of getting thrown in some smelly puddle. He could sink to the bottom of the lake and swim underwater all the way to the shore without being seen. He could hide in the woods until morning, or until the authorities arrived to dredge the lake.

The only problem with that plan was that it once again required Denis to run away.

“I hope you fucked her,” Kevin said, making conversation.

He wasn't afraid of Kevin anymore, Denis realized. These constant attempts on his life were getting annoying, as a matter of fact.

“It would be a shame for you to die without the privilege of fucking Beth Cooper,” Kevin said. “No,
privilege
isn't right. More like, without getting
your turn.
”

That inchoate rage deep inside Denis was beginning to differentiate itself.

“You did fuck her, didn't you?”

The rage had a face.

“Won't say? You're a
gentleman
? Well, that would be a first for her.” Kevin peered into the water. “This is deep enough.”

Kevin saw the paddle but wouldn't remember it.

FROM THE SHORE,
it was difficult to tell who had gone into the water. Then Denis stood up in the canoe, legs apart, and thrust the paddle into the air. The poncho helped immeasurably in completing the cinematic silhouette.

Rich grinned. “
Star Wars
one-sheet, 1977.”

Sean kicked him in the head again.

HIS MOMENT OF GLORY
savored, Denis turned his attention to his victim. He scanned the water around him.

“Kevin?”

Kevin's face floated a few inches below the surface. The eyes were closed and a thin red ribbon wafted off the temple. The face grew darker as it sank.

A vision of Dr. Henneman, uncharacteristically dressed as Obi Wan Kenobi, appeared to Denis.

Denis, with your SAT scores, you'd practically have to kill someone to not get into Northwestern.
*

“Oh no,” Denis whispered. “I've practically killed someone!”

Denis threw off the poncho and dove into the lake.

NO ONE ON SHORE
wanted Kevin completely dead, and there was a general sense of relief when Denis resurfaced and started back with the soldier in tow.

Treece nudged Sean.

“Go! Get in there and help!”

Sean, insulted: “Do I look like a
fucking marine?
”

Denis did not need the help. Among his assorted international diving certificates was one for lifesaving; he had even worked a couple of summers lifeguarding at the Cambridge on the Lake condominium complex,
where his main duty was finding out whose kid was pooping in the pool.

As he reached chest-high water, Denis shifted Kevin onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He emerged from the lake, clad only in wet tighty whit-eys, and it became apparent to all assembled he was no 98-pound weakling. He was 105 pounds of sleek swimmer's physique, previously hidden by shy hunching and frightened cowering. His hair was wildly tousled and his wet hairless body shimmered in the first morning light.

Treece was awed. “It's like when Clark Kent turns into Batman.”

“Check out the underpants,” Cammy said approvingly.

“I have,” said Beth.

DENIS DUMPED KEVIN
onto the grass. “I'm going to need some help,” he said, rolling the body over. He looked to Sean and Dustin. They looked back.

“Don't they teach you guys CPR in the army?”

“Yeah,” Dustin shrugged. “I wasn't really paying attention.”

“The job's not really about
saving
people,” Sean said.

“I know CPR.” Beth crouched next to Kevin.

“Okay,” Denis said, “you do breaths and I'll do compressions.”

“I'm not putting my mouth on his! We're broken up.”

“You are?” Denis asked a little too transparently.

Beth was annoyed. “Why would I mess around with you if I was still with him?
What kind of person do you think I am?
”

The tiff would have to wait.

Kevin rolled to his side and vomited some water. After several seconds, he opened his eyes. He smiled.

“There you go, Cooverman,” he said with a wet rattle, “giving up your tactical advantage again.”

Kevin shoved Denis to the ground as he staggered to his feet. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands. “Okay!”

“It's getting real late,” Dustin complained. “Can't we just beat the shit out of him and go?”

“Fine,” Kevin said. He lifted his foot to stomp on Denis's kidneys. He was in this pose when the spotlight hit him.