“I know he's not perfect.”
“Right.” Aldo grabbed a lemon from the cups that were on the refreshment table next to the iced tea. He sucked on the lemon wedge, scrunching up his face. Aldo loved lemons and ate them all the time. One concoction he was especially fond of was cutting a lemon into wedges and then sprinkling lots of salt, olive oil, and vinegar over them.
“Oh, the rush this gives me!” he'd say with a scrunched-up face, reveling in the salty and sour taste of the wedges.
It was a Sicilian dish that I'd seen my mother prepare many times. But after trying it once as a kid, I rinsed my mouth out under the kitchen faucet for almost half an hour to rid myself of the sour taste.
“Enough about Michael.” I wanted to change the subject and fast.
“All I was trying to say, Vee, is that he respects you, and that's probably why he won't date you now while you're jail bait. I've seen the way he looks at you, and not just tonight. He's been looking at you that way ever since your curves paid you a visit.”
“Well, I've never seen him look at me below my eyes.”
“Of course not. He's too smart. He's not like those blockheads he hangs out with who make it so obvious. Geez! You'd think they were starving or something. I've caught him looking at you when your back was turned, and he thought no one was looking. But I see everything! That's my job. I'm your spy.”
I laughed. “Aldo, you're too much!”
“I'm just looking out for my girl.”
“And I love you for it!” I hugged Aldo. “I see what you're trying to do. But you don't have to make me feel better.”
“Are you implying that I'm lying? You know I'd never do that to you.”
“No, I'm not saying that. But maybe, like me, you're seeing something you want to see or hope to see because you care about me so much. That's all.”
“Look, Vee. I would tell you if I thought you were wasting your time chasing this particular tail.”
I couldn't help laughing silently. No matter how many times I'd told Aldo that “chasing tail” was what one said when referring to girls, he still insisted on using it for girls who chased guys or even guys who chased guys. Aldo had come out of the closet to his family last year. And just as I confided in him about Michael, he told me about his crushes and whose “tail” he was chasing at the moment.
“I would totally tell you to look for other âtail' if I thought Michael wasn't attracted to you. And I'm glad you haven't been sitting around, waiting for when he's ready to ask you out. I can't stand anything more than girls who are loyal to guys who they just have crushes on. They're not boyfriend / girlfriend, for crying out loud! It's insane! Anyway, I really do think there's more to it with Michael.”
“We'll see. I'm not holding my breath. I'm not even holding my breath that he'll remember to get me those Cure tickets.”
“So, who are you going to take if he does give you two tickets?”
“Ohhhh, I don't know. I owe my little sister Connie a favor, and she still hasn't even been to a concert. This would be a treat for her.”
Aldo was looking down at the floor. “Oh, sure. I bet.”
I kicked his combat boots. He insisted on wearing nothing but his combats even when he attended formal occasions like this dance or a wedding. At least, he had worn a suit with a super-thin tie, harking back to his favorite era of music, the eighties, and the New Wave bands who had made the look popular. He slicked back his dark brown, shoulder-length hair. Except for his piercing black eyes, he could've passed for U2's Bono from their
Joshua Tree
album days.
“You know I wouldn't dream of taking anyone else to the concert! Why are you even playing this stupid game?”
“Yes! You're the best! I knew you wouldn't let me down! Oh my God! We're going to see The Cure! The Cure!” He grabbed my hands and twirled me around.
I was excited about the possibility of seeing The Cure in concert, too. But I would've been more thrilled if Michael had asked me to go with him. I looked toward where he'd been standing earlier with Mr. C. and Ms. Vicelli, but Michael was no longer talking to them. I searched the room, but couldn't spot him. Maybe he'd left. I felt my heart sink a little that I wouldn't see him again. I was secretly hoping he'd ask me for a second dance.
Aldo and I hopped into a cab after the dance was over. I lived within walking distance of school, but Aldo lived on Upper Ditmars Boulevard and was too tired to walk all the way back home. The cab let me out at the corner of my street instead of making the turn, saving Aldo some money in cab fare. “ 'Bye, Vee! I'll call you in the morning for brunch.”
“Forget it, Aldo! It's almost midnight. I'm not waking up before noon!”
“That's why it's called brunch! Noon is actually early. Later!”
“Whatever!” I stuck my tongue out at him. He stuck his out, too. We both laughed. Aldo waved one last time and rolled up the window as the cab pulled away.
Aldo had a way of making me feel good when I needed it. I knew I hadn't fooled him tonight with my act, and he'd sensed I was blue.
Although my neighborhood was extremely safe and you always saw people walking late at night on Ditmars, I still decided to walk fast in my three-inch pumps. My feet were absolutely throbbing from all the dancing Aldo and I had done. I stopped suddenly. A couple was leaning against the wall of a driveway, making out. I tiptoed past them, trying to get closer while stealing a glance. The light from the street lamp shone on the girl's backside. She was leaning into the boy, whose back was up against the wall. They were kissing. The girl was wearing a super-tight mango-colored cocktail dress, which was bunched up around her waist. The boy's hands were running up and down the back of her exposed thighs. There was something familiar about that dress. I looked away and kept walking when it hit me where I'd seen that dress. Tracy was wearing it at the dance! How could I forget? Every guy's head was spinning in her direction. Her dress pushed her cleavage way out of its bodice, and every curve in her butt showed. I was afraid the seam on the back was going to burst open.
Though Tracy Santana was my best friend since grade school, we were very different. Unlike me, school didn't come easily for Tracy. She tried very hard and studied, but the best grade her efforts produced was a C. Her mother hit her with a belt when she brought home poor grades. She often showed me and our other friends the pink welts that stood out on her paper-white skin. Her super-straight, thick hair was jet black and hung down to her hips. Tracy's mother was always on her case about cutting her hair short, whereas my mother encouraged me to keep mine long.
With her very fair complexion and raven-colored hair, Tracy reminded me of Snow White. But instead of having an evil stepmother, Tracy's own mother was the witch. My parents, on the other hand, never laid a hand on me. Sometimes, I felt as if Tracy envied me for my good grades and for having parents who didn't punish me with a belt.
We became best friends when we were in first grade. After that, we spoke every night on the phone, sometimes for as long as two hours. She only called me after her mother left for her night job and after Tracy had prepared dinner for her father and brother. I cringed when I called her house and her mother answered.
Now that we were in high school, the differences only seemed to be growing between us. She had no problem showing off her figure to the point where she might as well have been walking around in her underwear. I didn't mind looking sexy, but I also believed in the old adage, “Leave something to the imagination.”
Tracy wasn't as afraid of her mother anymore and seemed to rebel more with each passing day. She flirted heavily with the boys, whereas my shyness prevented me from even talking to the boys unless they approached me first. Tracy was a size zero and wore a super-padded bra to amplify her A-cup breasts. Her green eyes, which stood out in stark contrast to her dark hair, were her best feature. And Tracy used them to full advantage when talking to boys, squinting her gaze to give herself an extra sexy allure. I'd seen the less-confident boys quickly look away when she stared at them, but the more cocky guys stared back, looking completely mesmerized.
Tracy was more outgoing than I was. Her good sense of humor attracted everyone to her, but her lies always caught up with her and would eventually alienate all the friends she'd made. Throughout grade school, she often lied to mutual friends of ours and told them I'd said things about them when I hadn't. I always forgave her. I don't know why, I just did.
A stray cat darted into my line of vision, bringing me back to the present. Who was Tracy kissing? Amazingly, she didn't have a boyfriend at the moment either. It seemed that she went from guy to guy within a day after one relationship ended. It was as if the boys were on a waiting list to date her. Tracy's last boyfriend had broken up with her just three days before the dance. But this time, she bravely chose to go alone. You wouldn't have known it, though, since she'd managed to find a guy to dance with her to almost every song.
My curiosity was getting the better of me. I knew I shouldn't be snooping, but I had to see who was with her. I quietly walked up the front steps of the house whose driveway they were in. I crouched down behind a rosebush, hoping it would be enough to conceal me. Suddenly, the guy spun Tracy around so that her back was now up against the driveway's wall. The light shone on his profile.
Michael!
My hand flew to my mouth as I gasped. Luckily for me, they were too caught up in themselves to have heard me. No! Not
my
Michael. It was dark. I must not be seeing right. I stood up higher to get a better look. It was definitely Michael. He removed his mouth from Tracy's and began kissing her neck. At this point, I was standing to my full height, forgetting that I wasn't concealed anymore. I just kept staring at Michael. Aldo was right! He was acting just like every other guy would. I felt so stupid. Tears stung my eyes as they spilled down onto my face. I finally glanced over at Tracy, and my heart stopped. Her eyes met mine dead-on. Her lips turned up into the most wicked smile. She then lowered her head and kissed Michael. Her eyes shot open again while she was kissing him, staring right at me. I turned my head away and ran down the steps, not caring if Michael heard me. If he did, he didn't care, since I didn't hear my name and no one was chasing me.
How could she? She knew how I felt about Michael. Besides Aldo, she was the only other person I'd confided in about my crush on Michael. She'd listened to me tell her how I hoped, some day in the future, we'd end up together. She had sympathized with me and even told me, “Don't worry, Vee. He'll be yours someday. He just needs to sow his wild oats before he comes to you.”
Apparently, she was helping him sow those oats.
I ran as fast as I could down the block to my house. All I could think of was Tracy's twisted little smile as she stared at me. She looked happy that I'd caught them. She didn't care that she'd just stuck a knife right into my heart. I could feel the pain pressing against my chest. I couldn't stop crying. Why would my best friend do this to me? How
could
she?
I got to my house. My mother was probably waiting up for me. I searched frantically in my purse for a tissue. Not finding one, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands. I unlocked the door. There was a box of tissues on the foyer table. Pulling a few out, I patted my eyes. My reflection stared back at me in the hallway mirror. Pools of mascara swirled around my red eyes.
“Valentina!
Tu sei?
”
“
Si,
Ma.”
I ran into the bathroom down the hall, just as my mother entered the hallway.
“Sta bene?”
Behind the bathroom door, the tears started racing down my face again. I knew if I answered right away, she'd hear the sobs.
“Valentina? You okay?”
I flushed the toilet, trying to buy some more time. I quickly swallowed and turned on the sink.
“Yeah, Ma. I'm okay. Just had to use the bathroom really bad.”
“You have a good time?”
Ugghhhh!!! No matter how many times I told my mother I couldn't hear her well while I was in the bathroom with the water running, she always continued to have a conversation with me.
“Yeah, it was nice. I'll tell you about it in the morning. I'm going to get ready for bed. I'm really tired. Did Baba go to sleep already ?”
“
Si, si
. He knew you were in good hands with Aldo. I did, too, but you know me. I still worry when one of you girls is out late. Ahhh!
Va bene
.
Buona notte
,
fighita!
”
Fighita
had been my mother's endearment for me since I was a kid. It meant “dear one” or “sweet one.” I started crying even more.
I washed my face with cold water. Making sure my mother really had gone up to bed, I listened behind the bathroom door. Deathly still. I cracked the door open an inch. Only the nightlight was on near the stairs leading to our bedrooms. I took the stairs two at a time, which was hard to do in my snug dress, though not as snug as that tramp's who was kissing the love of my life. As I passed my parents' bedroom, light streamed from underneath their door. I could hear Ma's low whispers as she prayed. Pausing for a moment behind her door, I tried to hear what she was praying about but was unable to. I began to raise my hand to knock but dropped my hand back to my side and tiptoed to my room. No matter how much I wanted her to help me feel better, I just couldn't bear to see the hurt in her eyes when she'd see how pained I was. Besides, she didn't know about my feelings for Michael.