33
Countdown to Summer
Pete turned off his headlights and cruised slowly down the dirt road. We approached one of our best party spots off Skyline Boulevard, a place nearly impossible for cops to find thanks to a strategically placed hill and plenty of trees. The protection at our backs left us free to carouse, drink or howl at the hillside overlooking the bay.
“Grab the wheel a sec,” he said.
I took over the steering. “What are you doing?”
“Just watch. But no talking.” He turned off the radio and reached below the seat, pulling out an industrial-sized flashlight.
In the distance, I could make out Reese, hunched over igniting his cigarette, before he straightened up and squinted in our direction.
Pete beamed the light out the driver’s side window, manipulating it like a searchlight as the car inched forward. It flooded the faces of our startled friends and Pete yelled, “Assume the position. You’re all under arrest!” His maniacal laugh gave him away.
“Hella uncool, dude!” Steve said, slapping the side of the car.
Reese smirked. “I knew it was that fool O’Reilly.”
We parked and joined our buds. The gang was all there, but Reese and Steve soon left to make a beer run. Mary, Jaime and I clustered together, talking. The main topic of conversation was our impending summer vacation (only one month to go!) and what we planned to do with it.
“I am so glad I’ll be done with cheerleading,” I said.
Jaime made a face. “I don’t know how you did that crap.”
“You were good at it,” Mary said, attempting to counter Jaime’s harsh remarks once again.
“If I’d known it was going to be so much work and such a time-sucker, I would have thought twice about it.”
“Anyone good trying out?”
I shrugged. “The new girls are too stuck-up for their own good. Their heads might explode if they get picked.”
Jaime tossed her hair. “At least you didn’t change.”
“Some people told me I was stuck-up, but that’s booshee. I’m totally still the same.”
“You’re just our down-to-earth little rah rah, aren’t you?” She threw an arm into the air in mock cheer mode.
“Whatever. How’s it going with Reese?”
“I still don’t trust him, but he’s been pretty good to me lately. Or maybe that means he’s even guiltier.”
“He loves you,” Mary said.
I kept my mouth shut.
“That’s not really the point, is it? The question is whether he’s dickin’ around.”
“He’d be an supreme idiot,” Mary added.
Jaime laughed. “C’mon! You know that boy’s a fool!”
We laughed at its truth. Reese was silly, funny and crazy—most of the time.
Eager to change the subject and help me tamp down my guilt over knowing about Reese’s philandering ways, I turned to Mary. “What are you doing this summer?”
“Getting a job.”
A horrified look crossed Jaime’s face. “Why?”
“My parents are making me. Believe me, I wish I could just hang out. But I need the money.”
“Where do you want to work?” I said.
“Right in Montclair…maybe the ice cream parlor or Round Table Pizza, something like that.”
I busted out some spontaneous dance moves. “That means free noshables! Can you imagine going in high? We’d scarf for days!”
“I’m so sick of lame summers. All we do is party. I want to do something, see something,” Jaime said. “I am not sitting around doing nothing for three months again.”
Mary flicked her cigarette ash. “We could go camping. Our parents probably wouldn’t let us go by ourselves, though.”
“We could go to Great America. That’s fun.” My last ride on their best roller coaster replayed in my mind.
Mary agreed. “They have concerts there now.”
Jaime borrowed Mary’s cigarette to light her own. “We need some trips to the beach—like Santa Cruz.”
“The Boardwalk rocks.” Visions emerged of sandy feet, mustardy corn dogs and chocolate dipped cones.
“Beach, here we come!” Mary said.
I stuck my hand into the center of our circle. “Let’s make a pact to do fun things this summer.”
“Deal.” Jaime placed her palm on mine.
Mary added hers to the top. “For sure.”
“To excellent adventures!” I chanted as we threw our arms into the air.
I wandered over to Pete, immersed in a conversation about international soccer with Tez and Jim. I was bored in two minutes.
Fortunately, Steve and Reese sped into our hideaway and careened to a stop, spraying us with dirt. Pete cussed. I coughed and brushed myself off.
Steve slammed his car door and motioned to Reese with his thumb. “This guy just stole two cases of beer right off the damn truck!”
Reese shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “What can I say? The truck was just sitting there, open. The beer was begging me to take it…an offering from the Budweiser gods.”
Exclamations and laughter erupted.
“That’s true,” Steve said. “Usually those trucks are locked up tight, but off went the delivery guy, so Reese grabbed a couple of cases, threw them in the car and told me to step on it.”
“Who wants a beer?” Reese threw them to waiting hands.
Pete popped the tab on his brew, causing the familiar psst sound. “We’re getting some blow. Want some?”
“Sure, babe.” I rifled through my purse and handed him twenty bucks. “That’s all I got.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”
“That’s what boyfriends are for.” I winked.
“That’s all I’m good for?”
I pretended to think. “Eh, you’re pretty good in the sack, too.”
“I may need more practice.” He made me a sympathetic face.
I laughed. “Practice makes perfect.”
Pete grabbed my butt affectionately and took off with Reese and Jaime to buy
