The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 19: Hello

The first ice cream date was not what I expected. I thought I was going to get plain but serviceable chocolate. But Tommy threw me for a loop with bubble-gum rainbow candy surprise.

It was clear to me that everything I thought I knew about sex (which was very little indeed) was going out the window. This guy was full of surprises. 

The days were flying by. My tutoring gig was going well — after my total humiliation at the hands of Mr. Burns, the guys took it easy on me and started to actually pay attention. We got through Shakespeare, and the other topics were going OK. Then came poetry.

Try as I might, I could not get them interested in it, or understand why it was important. Then I had a brainstorm. I wrote on the chalkboard at the end of one sweltering, frustrating morning:

Assignment for Monday:  Bring in a boom box and a cassette with your favourite song. Play the song for the class and read the lyrics after. Then discuss what the lyrics mean. 

The hoots and hollers from them showed genuine excitement and I was pleased with myself. If they could make the connection between heavy metal and the great poets, the exam would be a cinch for them and they'd graduate. All because of my brilliant idea.

It had been exactly one week since our outing at the fair and I was intrigued and annoyed. Every day of tutoring, I couldn't wait until Tommy entered the classroom with his lanky stride and knowing smile. Every day I thought he would ask me out for the first of our five ice cream dates. All week, he hadn't.

Now it was Friday, the last chance to ask me out for the weekend. I watched him linger as all the other guys spilled out the door into the sunshine. This was it!!

He sauntered over to my desk. "Good idea, Miller," he said. Then he left. 

That was that.

No date for the weekend. I was disappointed. Scratch that, I was severely pissed. 

What about the contract?

A deal's a deal, right?

My first instinct was to call up Creegan or one of my girlfriends to complain and ask what it all meant. His behaviour was quite vexing. I thought all guys were dying to get into a girl's pants? This girl's pants had a 'come on in' sign flashing on them! 

It was clear to me that he was all talk, no action. And I was never going to get any sex ed, which meant I was never going to get Brandon back. Meanwhile, he was still parading that skank around town. I saw them together once, at the beach. Brandon, thin and lean with his swimmer's body. And HER. 

I didn't notice before, but her boobs were way bigger than mine. That must be it. He was into bigger boobs. I wondered about the cost of a boob job. They must do them in the city. 

I'd have to teach a lot more tutoring classes to afford that.

On one hand, it hurt like a bitch to know why he dumped me. But in another way, I had the specific answer now about why I didn't measure up, and it wasn't just an all-over awfulness on my part. Maybe something could be done. At the very least, I could stuff my bra.

Friday came and went. I took what Creegan said to heart, and invited him over for CreegFest. We did everything he wanted to do. Mom and Dad were out at the mayor's fancy party thingy he held once a year and Jackie was at a sleepover, so it was just me and the Creeg.

He and I had been best friends since the second grade. When we were little, we did everything together. I didn't want to play dolls with my girlfriends, I wanted to run with Creegan and a pack of boys, climbing trees, jumping off the ice clampers in the ocean in winter, playing softball in the back field. My parents called me a tomboy, which annoyed me. I was a girl. I just liked playing with boys better. They were funny, and did rough and tumble things that were exciting and daring. If they fell down hurt themselves, they didn't sit there and whine and cry, they popped back up like I did, ready for the next adventure. 

When we were really small, we both ran to Creegan's house and asked if we could have a sleepover. His parents looked at each other, then at us with a confused look on their face. "Um. No," they said after a while. Puzzled, we ran to my house and asked my parents the same thing. Got the same reaction. They couldn't offer a reason why, just that a boy sleeping over at a girl's house and vice versa was wrong. We were crushed. I could have sleepovers with my other friends, why not Creegan?

Now, our parents are fine with it.

We ordered pizza from Chickie's even though I hate Chickie's pizza most times - the sauce is too sweet and the crust too chewy. But it's CreegFest so whatever he wants. Then we went to Al's Video and Convenience to pick out a movie. Creegan picked out the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, even though I've seen it already. Standing in line, I overheard Al complaining to the guy in front of us about 'them Jesus kids out on a tear, smashing things, slashing tires.' Apparently, there was a rash of vandalism in the town lately. There was a big tarp  duct-taped over the window where someone apparently threw a brick. 

"If I ever catch those little sons of bitches, I'll tear the guts out of 'em," he said, chomping on his disgusting cigar and eyeing us suspiciously.

Creegan and I looked at each other and shrugged. We didn't know who the vandals were, but kids in this town were all getting painted with the same brush. 

We tucked in for a night of junk food and junk movies and hot gossip and went to bed around 1. Creegan slept in the other twin bed in my room and got up early to babysit his nephew. I barely registered him going, I was so tired. 

I rolled over in bed to hear a faint scratching at my window. I bolted upright, my heart bursting out of my chest. It was leatherface, sitting in a tree, ready to disembowel me. I expected to hear the roar of a chainsaw and his hideous, grinning face. 

Instead, I saw something ever more horrifying.

Tommy was sitting on a branch, just outside my window.