Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) (17 page)

Chapter
20

I woke
, remembering we were going to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk today. Melanie, Sheryl and I were all up and dressed early. It was going to be a sunny hot day so we’d dressed in shorts and T-shirts. We’d rushed through our cereal so we could take a walk on the beach and look for shells and beach glass before we went. There were two cars full of kids, my dad drove one and it was noisy, everyone overly excited.

We rushed from the cars at the curb in front. I could hear the roller coaster swooshing around the track, kids screaming, combined with music playing from various rides.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said.

“Thanks, Mr. Mallory.”

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Mallory.”

“Watch out for each other and stay together,” dad said.

After he’d left we walked out onto the boardwalk and found a ticket book and bought tickets. Bobby and Mathew took off, as well as several other groups of kids. Melanie, Sheryl, Sara and I, along with Bobby’s sisters split for the Big Dipper. As we walked on the worn weathered boards I could smell the cotton candy and popcorn. We spent the day riding the roller coaster as well as numerous other rides with only a few breaks to sample the food.

“Let’s go get something to drink
,” Sheryl said as we left the roller coaster for the umpteenth time.

She was holding her stomach and laughing at the same time. We were all laughing. The roller coaster was above our heads
now ratcheting up the first big hill. The sound made me feel the sensation; the anticipation in getting to the top, knowing my stomach would be in my throat the minute I plunged down the other side.

“That ride is just too much fun,” Melanie said stomping her feet.

“I love it,” Sara said. “Love that feeling of flying.”

             
“Morgan,” I heard Mathew yell.

             
I turned and scanned the crowd. Mathew and Bobby were headed down the boardwalk in our direction. The lights on the rides flickered even though it was daylight, drawing attention to them. The attendees in the arcade booths called out for people to play their game. I saw the lady at the cotton candy machine swirling the paper stick around to catch the spun sugar.

             
“Come on,” Melanie said, pulling at my arm.

             
“I’ll wait for these guys. You go ahead.”

             
“Oh, Morgan,” Sara sighed. “You know you have more fun with us.”

             
“I’ve been with you all day,” I laughed. “I’ll just see what they want.”

             
Melanie and Sheryl rolled their eyes at each other.

             
“Whatever,” Sara said.

             
“We’re going back to the Dipper after we get a drink,” Melanie said, heading off. “If we lose you, see you in an hour at the ferris wheel.”

“Sounds good
,” I said, remembering that the ferris wheel was the meeting place to regroup before we got picked up.

             
“You been here all this time?” Mathew asked, motioning toward the ride with his head.

             
“Just about,” I answered. “We’ve ridden a few other rides though too.”

             
He laughed, which made me smile.

             
“Let’s go do the merry-go round. I bet I can get more rings to toss than you,” he challenged.

             
He knew when he dared me I would generally take him on.

             
“I do the Big Dipper, and you guys do the merry-go round? Real manly,” I teased as the three of us headed down the boardwalk.

             
We rode the merry-go round and pulled the brass rings out of the feeder as we went by to throw in the clown’s mouth. My hair fluttered wildly behind me, and the three of us laughed as we reached further and further out from our horses, Mathew even falling sideways once. It was fun and a little magical riding such a child’s ride, the horses going up and down slowly as the music played. Much to Mathew’s delight, he made the clown ring more than Bobby or me. Bobby tiring of Mathew’s victory shouts suggested we move on, and we got off the ride and headed in the direction of the ferris wheel.

“Let’s get some cheese fries
,” I suggested, knowing they wouldn’t go for the fried zucchini.

Standing in line Mathew pushed into me slightly. It was subtle and gentle and again my desperate heart stayed hidden
, which I was thankful for. We took the large order of cheese soaked fries and sat on the wide steps that led down to the beach and watched the gulls and their daring exploits as they dove for food in the garbage can.

“Garbage birds
,” Mathew said disapprovingly.

He usually loved animals, all kinds
, so I was surprised to hear him say that.

             
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the beach without them,” I answered. “The waves crashing, seagulls squawking, they just go hand-in-hand.”

Bobby held out a fry
, and a gull with half his foot gone waddled over and yanked it from him.

“Don’t, you’ll have them all over here
, shitting on our heads,” Mathew said disgusted, waving it away.

We watched t
he gulls attack the garbage cans, swooping in when someone dropped any piece of food. A mother with three kids set her fries on the step while she tried to get the kids seated, and a gull swooped in and knocked the tray over, flinging fries everywhere. In an instant, it looked like the movie
The Birds
.

             
“What time is it?” Mathew asked after we’d stopped laughing.

I look
ed at the neon clock behind us.

“
Almost seven,” I answered.

             
“We’d better head toward the ferris wheel,” Bobby said.

             
“Okay, but I have to stop and buy some of that salt water taffy on our way,” I said. “I like it all, but my mom really loves the lemon.”

That night, back on the beach, Mathew, Bobby, and I sat by the water and talked. Bobby teased Mathew about his apparent lame attempts with various girls when they were out on the boardwalk.

“Morgan
, you should hear some of his stupid pick-up lines,” Bobby joked.

The visual wasn’t even hard for me, his swagger, his lazy sexy grin, his voice, and that was saying nothing about his body and beautiful face.

“I can imagine,” I said sarcastically. “I bet Brenda can too.”

             
Bobby and I laughed. Mathew lunged sideways at me and took me down in the sand. His movement sent me rolling and he sort of landed on top of me. The sand felt gritty and cool against my skin. I knew I was going to be covered, it having a way of sticking to bare skin like glue.

             
“Get him off me, Bobby,” I laughed, trying to free myself from under him.

             
Bobby made a halfhearted attempt at pulling Mathew off me, and then Mathew finally rolled over, pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me. I was laughing and had sand in my hair, which was now getting in my mouth.

“Stop
,” I laughed, “you’ve got me covered in sand.”

             
He let me go, and I stood to brush the sand off and shake it out of my hair. He watched and his look made me shiver.
Stay gone desperate heart.
When I finished, he patted his lap. I looked from Mathew to Bobby who shrugged his shoulders. I knew nothing of what Bobby knew or didn’t.
You daring me?
Because I didn’t think Mathew thought I would do it, I sat back down in his lap.

When I did he
wriggled back, and I thought he was going to get up or take me down again, instead he moved back so he could pull me into a more comfortable reclining position against him. He wrapped his arms around me, and we stayed like that while we talked. This was new and like the hand holding, simple but gentle, I liked it. I could smell him; feel my head against his chest, his jeaned crotch against my back. O
h, breathe, his cock was underneath them.

“You know
, guys pick up girls all the time on the boardwalk, and then they go underneath the 'walk to do it,” Mathew said.

“No they don’t
,” I protested.

I wondered if he really could read my mind,
where had that come from?

             
“It’s true. You can find people doing all kinds of things under the boardwalk,” Bobby threw in.

             
I bravely put a hand up on his right arm, feeling his warmth through my palm.

             
“You’ve seen it?”

             
“Bobby and I both,” Mathew said.

             
I looked over at Bobby and he nodded
yes
.

             
“That’s gross,” I said. “They like screw right in the sand?”

             
I couldn’t help but think Mathew had said something to Bobby about him and I because he didn’t seem exactly shocked.

             
“Yep,” they answered at the same time.

             
“Right there, with perverts like you watching?”

              I pushed my head back hard into his chest.

             
“Yep,” Mathew said, confirming the fact.

“That’s even grosser
,” I said. “Drug stuff too, I would guess.”

             
“Pretty much has it all,” he said.

             
Mathew took a strand of my curls and wrapped it around his finger, which Bobby pretended not to notice. What had prompted Mathew’s kinder side tonight, I had no idea, maybe it was beating us both at ringing the bell. That was how random he could be.  

             
“How’s the band?” Bobby asked, changing the subject.

              “Coming along. We're getting together a lot to jam. We’ve played at a few parties. Chicks dig us.”

Of course he had to throw in that last line
making me want to elbow him.

Mathew was nicer to me that week than I could remember him ever being for any length of time. He had numerous opportunities to kiss me, or more, but he never took them. He continued to hold my hand or have me recline against him, just being tender. Again it confused me, although it did not surprise me. I spent a lot of time with the two of them the rest of that week at the beach. The day we left for home, I realized that I felt vulnerable towards him again.

Chapter 21

The remainder of the summer, I spent most of my time with the kids in my neighborhood. Gayle and I went shopping or to the movies or just hung around. Mathew was in and out of my world with parties my parents took us to. We talked on the phone once in a while, which usually involved him telling me about his football training, the progress with the band, the girls. Brenda and he had called it quits finally, and he was currently single. My mom still went to Ann’s quite often, but I begged off. I wanted to get back to indifference regarding any emotional feelings toward him. Distance was safe.

I was
sitting in the food court at the mall with Gayle people-watching as we ate. It was always amusing for us, the couples strolling, mothers with crying children, women decked out like they were going clubbing. A good-looking boy with longish blonde hair strolled by.

“Have you seen him lately?”

I knew the boy had made her think of Mathew.

             
“A couple of weeks ago at a barbeque. He went off with Bobby. They asked me to go, but I said
no
.”

             
I liked the not feeling desperate feeling, but my feelings weren’t gone.

             
“You guys have a weird whatever it is.”

             
“Yeah, I think whatever it was is over. You saw the way he acted toward me at school last year. It’s nothing like the times I have told you about. Nothing like the beach. He’s so indifferent to me. It’s like he’s too cool, has to maintain some sort of image. It wouldn’t surprise me if you think I’m delusional and make the shit I tell you about up.”

             
The night he’d had me recline into him he’d walked me back to my beach house without Bobby. I pictured him now, standing by the water in the moonlight when he’d kissed me.

             
“You know I don’t think that,” Gayle said.

             
“I could understand it if you did. I am fuckin' delusional when it comes to him. It seems as if just when I think I can see him as a friend, and only a friend, he changes the rules. Like the beach. Why do you think he was so nice to me all week?” I asked, not waiting for her to answer. “Then holding me, like I told you that one night. In front of Bobby no less. He’s never done that before. And kissing me. Bobby has to know something about Mathew’s actions, wouldn’t you think?”

             
There were times I wanted to get Bobby alone and ask him about Mathew, but I figured he wouldn’t tell me anything, even if he knew.

“What I think is that Mathew plays games with you,” Gayle said.

             
“Oh really, you think?” I rolled my eyes. “Shit, even he knows it. Doesn’t stop him. Why can’t I stop me?”

             
Gayle sighed.

             
“We have school starting in two weeks. He is still going to be popular, even more so being on the high school football team. You need to move on to other guys. Quit giving him the time of day. You deserve a good guy,” Gayle said.

             
I was working hard at not giving him the time of day. It wasn’t easy to stay away when my mom was headed to see Ann.

             
“Thanks. Show me a good guy,” I said. “Not so sure that exists.”

             
She laughed; I stuffed a couple of fries in my mouth and took a sip of Coke. The wheels were turning in Gayle’s head, I could tell by the thinking wrinkles between her eyes.

             
“I want to try pot,” she said.

             
“Where did that come from?” I asked surprised she’d gone from Mathew to pot.

             
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to know,” she said.

             
“I can probably get some from Mathew,” I said.

             
“Did we not just talk about quitting Mathew? Get it from Keri’s brother.”

“Good answer. I’ll ask her,” I said.

I was irritated with Gayle for calling me out and felt guilty at the same time for instantly thinking about Mathew. I called Keri and she was all for it, and the weekend before school started, Keri, Gayle, and I went down to the creek to smoke the two joints Keri brought.

             
“Tell me again how it makes you feel?” Gayle asked.

             
“Sort of mellow and happy, and sometimes you laugh a lot,” Keri answered.

             
“Like when you’re drunk?”

             
“Sort of,” I said, “but mellower.”

             
Keri took the joint out of her bag and lit it.

             
“When you take a hit, suck it into your lungs, and then you hold it as long as you can before you let it out. And try not to cough like Morgan did.”

             
“Shut up,” I said.

             
She took a hit and then handed it to me. I took a big hit and held it out to Gayle. Gayle followed Keri’s instructions, and before she could let it out, she started coughing like crazy. I laughed so hard tears ran out of my eyes. She gave me a dirty look and passed the joint back to Keri.

             
“I can’t help it, that’s exactly what I did,” I chuckled.

             
“You aren’t even stoned yet and look at you,” Keri said, laughing at me.

             
She took another hit, and we passed the joint around until it was finished.

             
“This is kind of a cool place to hang out,” Keri said.

             
I wasn’t sure if she was really admiring our spot at the creek or just being sarcastic.

             
“Yeah, don’t get Morgan on the frog thing, though. She’s a freak,” Gayle laughed.

Gayle went on to explain about the frogs, and Keri
thought it was funny.

             
“Hey, cut me some slack. The boys have replaced the frogs. Way more toads in that pond than in the creek,” I said.

Keri thought that was hysterical.

When Gayle and
I talked about it the next day, she told me she didn’t like the feeling of being stoned. I hadn’t decided one way or another, for sure no at school.

             
The day after Labor Day, school started, and I was nervous. Gayle’s mom, Jane, drove us; she let me call her by her first name too.

             
“I don’t know why I feel so nervous,” I said in the car.

             
“It’s normal,” her mom said. “A new school, high school, a new part of your life.”

             
“New school, same people,” Gayle shrugged.

Leland High Sch
ool was bigger than Bret Harte. One of the first surprises was there were no bells. You knew what time class started, and you were expected to be there, on time. It took a lot of adjusting to high school and the different routines. The sorting out of friends and cliques was even different from Bret Harte. Never being one of the popular girls, I found my place with the girls who were like me.

Mathew
, on the other hand, was welcome in every popular group. He played on the football team and had his groupies there. He was working with the band and had his groupies there. He was good-looking, and he knew it. Half of the school's female population was vying for his attention. He had the guy thing going too; they all wanted to hang with him. Fortunately, we didn’t run into each other much at school: our schedules and interests took us in different directions, and ultimately, our worlds sort of quit colliding except through our families.

             
“We’re meeting Ann and Brad at the game tonight. Are you going?” my mom asked.

Leland was playing a home game
, and my parents usually went with Ann and Brad when it was home field.

             
“Yeah, I’m going with a group of friends. Gayle and I are walking to Keri’s to catch a ride. I’ll see you there.”

Keri’s boyfri
end was driving us to the game, and we left early to meet some other friends in the park next to the school. There was beer and there was pot. I took a beer, knowing I would be meeting my parents later. I didn’t want to be stoned. I wasn’t feeling so great though, so I didn’t even finish the beer before we headed to the game. A pretty boring game because we were creaming the other team. I watched Mathew move in and out of the plays. The cheerleaders cheering the team on from the sidelines. I couldn’t remember which ones he’d dated or was dating.

             
“Morgan, you’re so quiet,” Keri said.

She
was sitting next to me on the bleacher and had been jumping up and down cheering with enthusiasm while I just sat.

             
“I don’t feel that great. My stomach hurts,” I said, watching the game.

             
The roar in the bleachers erupted again as they made another touchdown.

             
“Are you going to the party with us after the game?” she asked.

             
“Not if I keep feeling like this. I can catch a ride home with my folks. They’re here with Mathew’s parents.”

             
At halftime I was feeling worse, all achy and my stomach was in a knot. I went to locate my parents to tell them I would be catching a ride home with them. Mathew was there, in his uniform, talking plays with Brad.

“Hey
, Morgan,” he said casually as I walked up.

His tone was typical school friendliness, but the once-over with his eyes and his grin were more.

              “Hi,” I answered.

             
“Mom, I’ll be going back with you guys,” I said, turning toward her.

             
I narrowed my eyes at her in a
please
don’t ask,
I didn’t want to have to explain my reason in front of Mathew.

             
“Okay, meet us back here when the game is over.”

             
“I will,” I said, turning and leaving.

Mathew followed me down the bleachers, I could hear his cleats on the cement behind me.

             
“Not going to the party?” he asked as he caught up to me.

“No.”

              “Why?”

             
“I’m tired. Not in the party mood,” I answered curtly.

When I got back to Gayle and Keri
, I veered away from him and clambered up the bleachers.

             
“See you around,” he said before he headed back out to the field.

             
I made my way back to my parents before the game ended, so I didn’t have to fight the crowd leaving. The next morning it became clear to me why I hadn’t felt good. It wasn’t my stomach; it was cramps. I had finally started my period. Fifteen was late compared to my girlfriends; Gayle had started at thirteen.

             
“Now you will see why it is such a pain,” she said when I told her over the phone.

I was actually relieved, happy to be catching up with the rest of the girls
. My boobs had gotten bigger over the last year, and I had filled out some. My hips stayed slim, but I didn’t feel so gangly anymore. Naturally, Mathew was more perceptive.

Our family had been invited to the O’Conner’s pool for a barbeque, and my mom insisted that I come. Mathew and I after swimming for a while ended up at the far end of the pool on lounge chairs. I had just finished putting suntan lotion on, so I was still sitting up.

             
“Nice,” he said.

             
I looked to see what he was referring to, and he was staring at my tits. My stomach tightened with an inside groan,
stop it, Mathew
. I didn’t respond. I thought about a bad visual for him, something that might ick him out.

“I started my period
,” I said.

             
“Not so nice,” he said.

             
“Fuck you,” I said.

             
“Why? 'Cause I said 'not so nice'?”

             
“Yeah,” I answered, not sure why the comment irritated me.

“No big deal
, Morgan, we learn to get around it,” he said.

“Sorry I said anything.”

I knew “getting around it” was meant sexually, but I wouldn’t know anything about that.

              I didn’t like Mathew very much the first part of the school year. He was too full of himself. I wanted to tell him, but I knew it wouldn’t matter.