Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) (5 page)

             
I waited for Gayle to do the same. She gave me a grin, her knowing kind of look, as to my real feelings. I’d told her some, but not all. How could I think about kissing him, I hardly knew him.

             
“Here,” she said, holding out a small canister of spray mouth freshener to me.

I took it and sprayed two squirts into my mouth.

“Don’t talk about it with anyone,” I said as we made our way to the creek. “I mean, any of the kids on the block.”

I jumped over the creek
, and when I landed on the other side, I slipped on the bank and my shoe went into the water.

             
“Damn it,” I shouted, seeing my tennis shoe covered with black mud and moss.

Gayle started to laugh which made me laugh
despite my yucky shoe.

“I won’t
. I mean, I won’t say anything to anyone. Doesn’t matter anyway, no one knows him.”

“I know
. Don’t need shit from anyone though, including you,” I answered.

Chapter 7

School ended the first part of June
, and we were finally going to the picnic that Ann invited us to. I knew that we were doing a Jeep tour, having a picnic, and that the O’Conner’s would be there. The O’Conner part was all that mattered to me. I wanted to see Mathew.

             
The ranch was seventy-six acres off Old Almaden Road in San Jose, and it was beautiful. We pulled through the gate, and I could see the rolling hills covered in golden grass, waving slightly in the breeze, catching the light. Clumps of wildflowers and bright yellow mustard patches; huge, gnarled oak trees; made it look like one gigantic moving quilt. Jeeps were parked in the road and people were milling around talking. I caught myself looking for Mathew in the group. When I didn’t see him, my heart sank.
Maybe he didn’t come.

             
“Grab something,” mom said, as we got out of the car.

             
I picked up the bag with paper products, plates, napkins, etc., in it.

             
“Yeah, leave the soda for me,” Pat complained.

             
“Shush,” mom said, grabbing the beer.

             
As we approached the group, my breath caught when I saw Mathew and Bobby running out of the barn and up to us.

             
“Hey, Morgan,” Mathew said breathlessly.

“Hey
,” I answered, feeling relieved

The butterflies rose up in my stomach and did cartwheels.

“Hi,” Bobby said, lifting his hand.

             
“You boys grab this,” mom said.

S
he handed Mathew a six-pack of Coors and Bobby a bottle of white wine. The boys stood there waiting for more to carry or for further instruction.

             
“You can put it in one of the Jeeps,” she continued.

             
“Sure, Mrs.—” Mathew started.

             
“Ah…” she cut in.

             
“I mean, Patty,” he chuckled.

             
I was surprised she had taken to the first-name basis so quickly. She must have thought Ann was onto something; maybe it was about feeling younger as their children were getting older.

The
y had already started splitting people into groups to load the four army Jeeps, and Joe called to the three of us—me, Mathew, and Bobby—to climb into the first Jeep in line.

             
I stepped on the side runner and climbed into the back of the Jeep. Noting the horseshoe-shaped bench in the back bed I chose the back so I was facing forward. Bobby came next and sat next to me; Mathew was last. Mathew could have sat a number of places, but he didn’t; he plopped himself right between Bobby and me.

             
“Shit, Mathew,” Bobby complained as Mathew partially sat on him.

             
I wiggled away from Bobby to make room for him. For me there was no reason to complain in fact I couldn’t have been happier.

             
“Why didn’t you sit there?” Bobby asked, as he motioned to an open spot.

             
“I wanted to sit here,” Mathew said as he looked me in the eye and gave me a small smile.

His expression sent a shiver through me
, and it was hard to pull my eyes from his. I had no idea if he wanted to sit there or didn’t want Bobby sitting next to me. I could feel the heat rush up into my chest, and my heart beat faster.
Yeah, Gayle
I said to myself
I want to kiss him. I want more than that.

Once the Jeeps were loaded
, we started off down a dirt road. The further we got, the worse the road was, deep ruts jostling us around. Every time Mathew’s leg or arm touched mine, it felt like he touched me with fire. These feelings were strange, and exciting, at the same time. I’d never understood when people talked about sexual attraction, but now I did. I wondered if Mathew was feeling anything, or just being a goofy boy. It was easy to look at him because we kept jostling into one another. Bobby glanced at me several times, and I hoped it wasn’t obvious to him what was going on inside me. With Mathew sitting next to me, I didn’t want the drive to end. When the Jeeps came to a stop, he put his hand on my leg, pushing himself up.

             
“We’re here,” he said, jumping down from the Jeep with Bobby right behind him.

             
I was disappointed; I was going to be left behind again. Everyone starting pulling things from the Jeeps, tables were set up, blankets spread, coolers with food and drinks unloaded. The kids were splitting up into various groups and moving in different directions to explore. Sara was helping to spread one of the blankets out with a group of the girls, talking, and I started to head that direction. I noticed Mathew and Bobby working their way toward a creek I could see in the distance. As I watched them walk away, Mathew suddenly turned. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and he motioned for me to come.

I
hesitated and looked over at the group of girls who were laughing, then back at Mathew, who motioned more forcefully, waving his arm for me to follow. I felt confused.
Did he want me to come or was he just testing, teasing me?
I didn’t want to be teased if that was the intent. I knew all too well from the boys on the block how mean they could be. How they would do things to make me look or feel stupid. I wanted to follow, but instead I stood riveted, staring at him. I watched as he walked back to me. He gripped my arm gently.

“Come on, let’s go
,” he said, pulling me after him.

             
I let him lead me, and after a minute, he dropped my arm.

             
“Don’t be such a girl,” he said, as we caught back up to Bobby and walked towards the creek.

             
“Cool ride,” Mathew said.

             
“I wish we could drive the Jeeps,” Bobby said.

             
“Yeah, that would be awesome. You ever driven, Morgan?” Mathew asked.

“Yeah, m
y grandfather lets me drive on his ranch in Rumsey. It’s up past San Francisco somewhere,” I answered.

“No way
,” he said. “I can’t wait to drive. Does he let you drive alone?”

“No
, he’s in the car,” I answered, finding his question silly.

“I mean
, not on his lap or between his legs?” he asked.

“Oh
, yeah, he’s on the passenger side. I do the steering and the pedals.”

“That i
s so cool he lets you do that,” Mathew said.

“He lets both Pat and
me when our parents aren’t around. I think he thinks it’s funny. He has some pretty crazy stories of growing up. I don’t know, maybe he wants to give us a few of our own.”

             
I wanted to get off that subject because they thought it was so cool and I felt like it wasn’t a big deal. I could hear the creek babbling, as we got closer. When we got to it, I realized this creek moved faster than ours and was wider. I wondered how much colder it was than ours and realized I'd soon find out when Mathew sat down and started taking off his shoes and socks. Bobby bent down to touch the water and gave an exaggerated shiver.

“Chilly
,” he said before he sat down and followed Mathew.

“
Come on in, guys, it’s not that cold,” Mathew said, wading into the creek.

I stood on the bank
, watching them splash around and decided that if I wanted to spend time with Mathew, I'd better get my shoes off too. As I stepped in, Mathew kicked water towards me.

“Ah
,” I shouted as the cold water hit my legs and side.

Mathew laughed and kicked a smaller amount making sure it got close, but not on me.

“Mathew, don’t,” I begged, looking down at my now-wet side. “I don’t want to be all wet.”

             
“Okay, no more splashing, let’s explore,” he said as he headed up the creek.

             
The rocks were a bit slippery, so I cautiously followed the boys. There were some patches of cattails, so when I noticed a few pollywogs, I immediately started looking for frogs. I was sort of lagging behind, thinking about my own creek and the games we played, while the boys splashed up ahead. It didn’t take me long to find a little frog, and I picked it up.

             
“Hey, look what I found,” I yelled at them.

             
Mathew and Bobby turned around and came back.

             
“Cool, look at that,” Mathew said, reaching to touch the frog that I had cupped in my hand.

             
“You like frogs?” Mathew asked, surprised.

             
He was gentle when he stroked the little guy and his fingers couldn’t help but touch my hand in doing so.

             
“Yeah, we have a creek at the end of our street, and they're all over the place, even bullfrogs.”

             
“I don’t know many girls who like frogs,” Bobby said.

             
“You know one now,” I said proudly.

             
“They give you warts, you know,” Mathew said, running the fingers he’d touched the frog with lightly down my arm, making me shiver. I hoped he hadn’t noticed.

             
“They do not. That’s an old wives' tale,” I said, putting the frog gently back in the creek. “If they did, I would have warts all over.”

             
“All over?” Mathew asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.

             
I didn’t answer him. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but the way he said it made me think like naked all over. When I stood up from letting the frog go, he gave me a shy sort of sexy grin.

“Kidding
, Morgan, I get it, you don’t get warts.”

             
I put my hand into the water and we watched as the frog swam with the current down the creek.

             
“Follow the leader,” Mathew said.

He started out
, making a path by jumping from rock to rock. As we swapped being leader, each of us continued to make it increasingly harder for the others. Longer jumps, the distances becoming more difficult, and we would laugh when one of us ended up in the creek.

“I’m gonna dry out here for a minute
,” Mathew said, sitting down on the bank.

I sat down next to him
. Bobby sat down on the other side of me, picking up a stick and rolling rocks into a pile in the creek, forming a dam.

             
“So what’s up for your summer, Morgan?” Mathew asked.

             
“Hanging out, I guess,” I shrugged.

             
“Who do you hang out with, friends from school?”

             
“More with the friends from my street,” I answered.

             
“From your street?” Mathew questioned.

             
“There are a lot of kids who live on our street. My best friend Gayle lives right across from me. How about you?”

             
I wanted to keep him talking, getting to know him.

             
“Hang with friends, play with the band. A family trip to Oregon. Maybe even hang with Bobby some at the beach,” Mathew answered.

             
Bobby hadn’t said much. We both looked over to him when Mathew said that. He’d built quite a nice dam that was now diverting water around it.

             
“Right, Bobby?”