Winger

Chapter Fifty

“I REALLY DO WANT TO hold hands on takeoff,” Annie said.

I slipped my hand into hers.

“Oh, yeah?” I said. “Well, considering I get naked before takeoff, I’d say that exactly nine months from the moment we fly over the Columbia River, you’ll probably be giving birth.”

She laughed. “Pervert.”

I buttoned my shirt.

I couldn’t help myself now:

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: So . . . loser, did you pack the condoms?

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Don’t be ridiculous. Annie is not like that.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: I bet five out of five Buffalo wings on the Ryan Dean West Spice Matrix Megan Renshaw is.

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Hmmm . . . I haven’t been keeping up with that particular scale, but that stewardess up the aisle has got to be a four-and-a-half . . . I wonder if I could swing a trip to LA next weekend . . . . Just a thought.

JOEY COSENTINO: Goddamnit, Ryan Dean. I am going to stop sticking up for you if you don’t grow the fuck up. You are finally getting to go somewhere with the girl of your dreams, and you can’t stop thinking about every other female on the planet.

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: I’m sorry, Joey. Hey, how could you be on this plane?

JOEY COSENTINO: I’m not. I’m the part of your subconscious that actually (a) knows the right thing to do and (b) is not perverted.

RYAN DEAN WEST 2: You mean there is a part of my brain that doesn’t think about sex? You’re making that up!

RYAN DEAN WEST 1: Go away, Joe. The stewardess is about to come around to check if my seat belt is snug enough.

I actually managed to get dressed, shirt tucked, necktie knotted, one sock still inside out but at least in my shoes, before the plane was on the runway, and all this despite the fact that I was wedged into a middle seat between Annie and a drunk-bald-fat guy who fell asleep, sitting on my seat belt buckle, with his head on my shoulder.

We were still holding hands when the plane began its descent into Seattle. Me and Annie . . . not me and the drunk guy.

“This is going to be so great,” Annie said.

“What’s the best thing you’ve ever done in your life?” I asked.

“I don’t know. What about you?”

“Top three,” I said—my shoulder leaned against hers, and it felt so good—“were those last two times you and I were alone at Stonehenge, and being here right now, holding your hand.”

I looked right at her.

“You’re trying to see if you can make me do it, aren’t you, West?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said.

“Sure.” Then she said, “It is not going to happen.”

“Stay strong, Annie.”

“You too, Ryan Dean.”

Crap.

She was playing the same game.

Chapter Fifty-One

ANNIE’S MOTHER AND FATHER WERE waiting for us when we came through the arrival gate. I had never even seen a photograph of them, but they both looked so Annie-like that I would have known them anyway. They were doctors, and they looked so young and healthy. When they saw us, their eyes smiled the same way that Annie’s did.

Annie’s father kissed her, then he held his hand out to me.

“You must be Ryan Dean,” he said. “Annie thinks the world of you.”

I looked at her; and she actually blushed. I couldn’t believe it—Annie Altman turning red; and I wondered if she had that same inner-voice thing where she was currently calling herself a loser, even if I did think it looked totally hot when it happened to her. Blushing, I mean.

“Thank you,” I said, and then I thought, What a stupid thing to say, so I added, “Doctor Altman.” Which sounded even stupider.

Then Annie’s mom hugged me, which kind of flustered me for two reasons: first, because she was a doctor, it made me immediately think she was going to ask me to take my pants off; and, second, I have to admit it, being Annie’s mom, she was really hot.

And she said, “ ‘Doctor Altman’ won’t work in our house. We won’t know who you’re talking to. But you are so polite, Ryan Dean.”

Now I was blushing. Loser.

“You should just call me Rachel, and the other Doctor Altman is Keith.”

I hated calling grown-ups by their first names. It seemed so flower-child-nineteen-seventies to me. So I decided I’d try to not use their names at all, or if I had to, I’d call them “Doc Dad” and “Doc Mom.”

Annie’s father had to drive us to the docks in Seattle to catch the ferry; it was a thirty-five-minute ride to their home on Bainbridge Island. I had never been to Seattle before, and I thought it was one of the most intense- looking cities I’d ever seen, built right up against the tree-lined coast, in the shadow of a giant volcano.

On the way to the docks, we talked about school and sports. Doc Dad was one of the only adults in America I’d ever met who had actually played rugby when he was in college, so we hit it off right away, even though he had been a loose forward. Loose forwards are usually not the most evolved primates on the planet. Still, I knew I was going to fit in just fine with Annie’s family.

Hand-holding in the backseat with Annie was definitely off, though. It took only one look from her to quietly get that message to me. And I could feel her getting a little embarrassed again too when her father and mother began talking about her.

“This is what Annie’s told us about you, Ryan Dean,” her mother said. “Tell us if we’re right. She says you are the smartest boy in the school, you’re a great athlete, and you made the varsity rugby team when you were in tenth grade. And she told us you are the best-looking boy at school too.”

Annie coughed.

My ears turned red.

“You’re Annie’s first real boyfriend,” her father said.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Annie said. “Ryan Dean and I are just really good friends. That’s all.”

I guess that whole “boyfriend” label did kind of make it sound like salmon spawning, as Seanie might have noticed.

“Tell us about where you live, Ryan Dean,” Doc Mom said, turning sideways to look at me.

“O-Hall,” I said, and then I thought, why am I such a fucking idiot? I wasn’t even listening to her; I was too caught up in thinking about being Annie’s “boyfriend.”