Swim the Fly (17 page)

When we are all out of the car, Angela drives away.

We sit on the curb, putting our sneakers back on, as the car motors down the street.

“I can’t believe she actually makes you pay her,” I say.

“I know,” Coop says, sounding a little bitter. “That was my last fifteen bucks. But that’s not all she got.”

“What are you talking about?” Sean raises an eyebrow.

“I let a beef biscuit fly just before we got out.” Coop nods. “She should be getting a nice lungful of sawmill right about now.”

“That’s classic, dude.” Sean gives Coop a fist pound.

“Let’s see if she keeps the windows shut now,” I say with a grin.

Coop, Sean, and me head up the walkway. My waddle is more of a medicated shuffle now. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to pull this off. Coop says I should find a couch to plant myself on and I’ll be fine, but I’m not so sure.

All the lights in Ronnie’s two-story house are blazing. The thump of the music inside rattles the windows. I was feeling pretty confident about our O’Doul’s plan all day, but now that I see the two guys hanging out and smoking by the front door, I’m a lot less optimistic.

“Play it cool, Tourette’s,” Coop whispers, like he can feel my waves of anxiety.

As we approach, the taller of the two guys holds up his hand like a traffic cop. He’s wearing an orange T-shirt
with a drawing of a chimpanzee on it. Under the picture it says
MY MONKEY’S BEEN BAD. IT NEEDS A SPANKING.

“What do you got?” the tall guy says.

Coop holds out the plastic bag. The other guy, the shorter one who’s dressed all in black, takes the bag and opens it. I hold my breath as he looks inside. After what seems like a month, he nods and smiles. “O’Doul’s. Nice.”

Coop’s eyes slide back and forth between me and Sean. I start breathing again.

The guy in black pulls out one of the bottles. “Can we bum one of these bad boys from you?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Coop says.

“Righteous.” The tall guy grabs the bottle from his friend. “O’Doul’s. All of the great, rich taste of beer with none of that annoying alcohol.”

Both of the guys laugh.

“Are you kidding me with this sputum?” The tall guy tosses the bottle at Coop, who juggles it before getting a firm grip.

“I think you homies got the wrong venue,” the guy in
black says. “You’re probably looking for the piñata-and-pony party up the street.”

“That’s right.” The tall guy snickers. “O’Doul’s goes perfect with ice-cream cake and cookies.”

“So, what?” I say. “You’re not going to let us in?”

“The real question you should be asking,” the guy in black says, “is do you actually want to go in there carrying
that
?”

I look over at Sean and Coop, who seem to be examining their shoes. “We want in,” I say.

“Suit yourself.” The tall guy throws his hands up. “We were just told, make sure everyone brings beer. No one said anything about a minimum alcohol content. If you losers want to go in there with this baby brew and humiliate yourselves, far be it from me to stop you.”

The guy in black shoves the shopping bag back at Coop.

The tall guy opens the front door. “Please drink responsibly.”

The two guys crack up as Coop, Sean, and me cautiously step inside.

The music is so loud, it vibrates my skull. The house is packed with kids holding bottles and cans of beer.

“No one’s going to be able to tell,”
Coop mocks Sean.

“We’re in, aren’t we?”

Coop holds up the green bag. “Yeah, except now we’re lugging a ticking bomb.”

We navigate the maze of bodies, squeezing past guys and girls laughing, drinking, and trying to talk over the boom of the bass drum.

I recognize a few girls from school, a couple of guys from Ronnie’s band, the guy who works at the 7-Eleven. I keep my eyes peeled for Kelly or Valerie, but I don’t see
either one. I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. A little of both, probably.

We make it to the kitchen, and thankfully, there’s no one here.

“We have to hurry,” Coop says. “Keep a lookout.”

Coop quickly flips open the lid on one of the half-dozen coolers on the floor.

“I didn’t see Kelly,” I yell over the music.

“Keep your pants on.” Coop buries three of the beer bottles way down into the ice. “We’ll find her. After we deal with this white elephant.”

Coop snags some napkins off the counter. He wraps them around three of the O’Doul’s.

“Under
no
circumstances are you to reveal this label to anyone,” Coop says. “If you do, I will deny any knowledge of your existence.”

We each grab a napkin-cloaked O’Doul’s and stroll the party. The living room swarms with kids. I nod at a few guys from swim team.

We make our way past the couch toward the glass door that leads to the backyard. Coop slides the door open, and the three of us step outside. There are tiki torches lit around the kidney-shaped pool in the center of the yard. The music is piped out here as well, but it’s much softer. There must be a hundred kids standing around or sitting on lawn furniture. I scan the crowd. Still no Kelly.

I look over at Sean. Something’s different about him.

“Did you grow taller since this afternoon?” I say.

Sean shakes his head.

Coop looks over at Sean and squints. “You
are
taller. What the hell?”

“Shut up, okay?” Sean whispers.

“Are you wearing high heels again?” Coop laughs. “Because if you really want to be a girl, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“The only shame is pretending to be something you’re not,” I say.

“Screw off. Both of you.” Sean cranes his neck, pretending to look around, like if he ignores us we’ll just go away. Fat chance.

“You better tell us what’s going on or I’m going to have to make an announcement,” Coop says.

Sean sets his jaw and speaks through his teeth. “I’m wearing lifts, okay? And I’d appreciate it if you kept it on the q.t.”

“Lifts?” I say.

“Famous people use them all the time.” Sean huffs. “They add like three inches.”

“So, what, that gives you like a three-and-a-half-inch hog now?” Coop says.

“To your
height,
spaz. You’re such a third-grader sometimes.”

Coop cups his hand over his mouth and smothers his laughter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just so friggin’ funny.”

“Go ahead.” Sean shrugs. “We’ll see who’s laughing
last when Matt hooks up with Kelly and I’m spending quality time with Valerie.”

“Right.” Coop nods. “The only thing is, by the time you get with Valerie, I won’t be able to laugh anymore because I’ll be dead. Of old age.”

“There’s Kelly,” I say. “Over there.” I casually point to a large oak tree in the corner of the yard. I can see part of Kelly’s face and her right arm. She’s talking to someone, but I can’t make out who it is.

“Is Valerie with her?” Sean bobs his head back and forth, trying to see through the crowd.

“I can’t tell,” I say.

Coop takes a step to the side. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” I move over to where Coop is standing. And that’s when I see what Coop sees.

Tony Grillo. His black-, blue-, and white-striped polo shirt barely contains his freakishly pumped Bowflex body. He’s talking to Kelly, gesturing with the beer bottle in his left hand.

“Shall we go?” I say.

Coop squints at me. “Just like that? You see the enemy and you turn and tuck tail?”

I attempt to shrug, but my aching shoulders don’t obey. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I guess you weren’t a Spartan in your past life,” Coop says.

“She’s with her boyfriend.”

“And not just any boyfriend,” Sean says. “I wouldn’t
be surprised if under those designer clothes he was wearing spandex and a cape.”

Coop shoots Sean a look. “Hey,
Lifts.
Keep your fantasies to yourself, okay?”

Sean shakes his head. “That’s not —”

Coop holds up his hand, silencing Sean. “Don’t make it any worse.” He turns to me. “Look, Matt. Maybe they’re going out. Maybe they’re not. All I know is, Kelly invited you to this party for a reason.”

“She was probably just being friendly.”

“Matt, Matt, Matt. Why do I always have to be the one to explain these things to you?”

“Explain what?”

Coop takes a deep breath and runs his hand down his face. “Okay. I’ll walk you through it. Has Kelly ever asked you to a party before?”

“No.”

“Right. So, why do you think that suddenly changed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you two recently become best friends?”

“No.”

“Did you save her kitty from a tree?”

“No.”

“Did you chase down a mugger who stole her purse?”

I shift my weight and sigh. “What the hell does this have to do with anything?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why, if you aren’t good friends, if you didn’t do anything to suddenly make Kelly think she owed you something, she would invite you to this party.”

“I don’t know.”

“Sean, help me out here.” Coop turns to Sean, who is busy scoping the party for Valerie. Coop backhands Sean’s shoulder.

“What?” Sean looks at Coop.

“I said help me out here.”

“With what?” Sean blinks.

Coop gives Sean his best annoyed-teacher glare.

Sean is totally lost. He looks at me. He looks at Coop. “I thought I saw Valerie.”

Coop throws his hands in the air. “Fine. I guess I spent all my money to get us into this party for nothing. Whatever. I’m done. Everyone for themselves. Sean, you go find Valerie and try to impress her with your three inches. Matt, you can keep on pretending Kelly doesn’t have her eye on you so that you won’t have to do anything about it.” Coop nods. “If you need me, I’ll be the one with the drunkest girl in the party, trying to convince her I’m Justin Timberlake’s younger brother. Adios, amigos.”

Coop walks off, leaving me and Sean standing there, looking at each other.

“What crawled up his butt?” Sean says.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s pissed because he won’t be able to afford his comic books this month.”

“Graphic novels,” Sean corrects me.

“Whatever.”

“There’s a difference.”

“I don’t give a shit, Sean. Just go away.” I want to punch something. A wall. A door. Sean, if he doesn’t leave soon.

Sean shrugs. He takes a sip of his O’Doul’s. “You’ve got it bad, Matt. I know the feeling. But I’ll tell you one thing. What my uncle Doug once told me. You have to get your priorities straight. Friends first, then Springsteen, then women.” Sean raises his beer bottle, nods, and walks away.

I DRAW IN A DEEP BREATH
and let it out slowly. I try and take a tug on my “beer,” but it’s a struggle. I have to bring my face down and meet my hand halfway because I still can’t lift my arm high enough to drink properly. I have to slurp more than actually drink and I’m sure I look like a moron, but I don’t care.

I stand there for another minute and watch as Tony leans into Kelly. He whispers something in her ear. She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t move away. She just stands there and listens to everything that’s coming out of his snarling scarred mouth.

Kelly’s wearing tight low-rise jeans with small hearts on the front pockets and a tiny pea-green bomber hoodie that shows off her flat stomach and belly ring.

God, this is torture.

I need to leave. Coop’s an idiot. And even if he
was
right, what does he expect me to do? Challenge Tony to
a fight? I couldn’t even beat him in a thumb wrestle. I mean, look at those hands. They’re like Sasquatch paws.

I do my dippy-bird act and take another suck on my beer.

I knew this was a mistake. Coop’s sister won’t be back for us until midnight, which means I better find something else to do besides stand here like Charlie Bucket with his nose pressed to the candy-store window.

I turn and manage my way over to a round glass table by the side of the pool. All four plastic chairs are available. I carefully lower myself into one of them. The Advil should
not
be wearing off so quickly.

I wonder if I’ve done some real damage to my body. It was a Herculean chore getting out of the house tonight without my mother seeing. If she’d caught me in this state, she wouldn’t have let me leave. My mother is a serious worrier. She’s crazy about safety. Even more so since Dad left. She wanted me to wear a hockey helmet last year when Grandpa took me out to play golf. “What if one of those flying balls hits you in the temple?” she said. “It could kill you.” It took a while for Grandpa Arlo to talk her down from that one. We left as fast as we could when she started going on about how she wanted me to wear a cup. “You only have one
you-know-what,
” she called after us. “All it takes is one golf club flying out of someone’s hands and . . .” We were in the car and gone before she could finish.

Yeah, if she’d seen me this way, she would have
rushed me to the emergency room, for sure. Which would be like a day with the
Maxim
Girls, compared to this.

I look down at the pool. The water is pretty filthy. The Hulls obviously don’t use it much. There have to be a thousand dead worms on the bottom. Along with a big clay planter and a rusty tricycle. There’s a thin film of algae, or something green, floating on the surface. I wonder if Coop could get Sean to bob for a Life Saver in that sludge.