Under My Skin - 2. Part I, chapter 2

- II -

The dinner went fine. By fine, I mean that we sat there for almost half an hour, with our heads lowered and eyes closed while my father was muttering another one of his ridiculously long graces. Usually I would just sit there, listening to him, my eyes shut. Tonight, however, I didn’t feel like it. I peeked through my eyelashes at my mother. She was tightly squeezing her palms together, her eyes closed, her forehead furrowed with a wrinkled frown. She was moving her lips in a feverish passion, silently repeating every single word that my father said. Suddenly, I had a mad desire to laugh, and I bit my lower lip hard. My father probably would kill me if I’d burst out laughing right now. Grace was more than sacred to him. Finally, he muttered, “Amen,” and my mother breathed the same with such passion that I had to bite my lip again. “Amen,” I muttered and opened my eyes all the way.

The dinner was the usual mashed potatoes and gravy, and I ate it absent-mindedly, thinking that by now this food didn’t even taste good to me. I mean, it was good, my mother was a good cook, but when you have the same meal for five years straight, it becomes as appealing to your stomach as, let’s say, a piece of paper. My father looked at me intently.

“What are you thinking about, Jake?” he said and I shrugged.

“School,” lies didn’t even bother me by now.

He didn’t seem to believe that.

“Is there something bothering you?” he frowned. “You look strange.”

(“Yes, dad. Something is bothering me. You see, there is this guy at school, his name is Alex Landon, and I am madly in love with him…”)

“No, dad,” I said. “Nothing is bothering me.”

“You are not being tempted by anything unholy, are you?” he asked with suspicion.

(“Well, I don’t know about unholy… But I am tempted to rip off Landon’s shirt and push him against the wall…”)

“No, dad. Nothing unholy. Just thinking about quizzes and whatnot.”

“All right,” he said doubtfully.

I finished my food and put the fork on my empty plate.

“Is it all right if I leave the table now?” I asked, and my mother shot me a dirty look.

“You just want to go to that girl’s house, don’t you?” she asked with reproach.

“Girl’s house?” my father frowned, and I almost exploded.

“Christy,” I said evenly. “We need to study for the quiz on Friday.”

“Jake…” my father said. “It is rather late for a visit, don’t you think?”

I wondered what he would do if I just hit him on the head with my plate. I almost saw myself doing it. I saw the thick plate breaking against my father’s skull; his forehead suddenly all gushing and bloody, his glasses falling off his nose and landing in the gravy that covered his mashed potatoes, blood dripping all over the white tablecloth…

I blinked and the image disappeared.

“Her parents will be there,” I said. “And her brother as well.”

“You have to be home no later than nine, do you understand?” He looked at me sternly. “And you had better be clean…”

“Clean?” I was confused. “What do you think we are going to do over there? Mud wrestling?”

Uh-oh. Sarcasm was the Devil’s tool, and my father’s eyes started to fill up with righteous anger.

“Sorry,” I said quickly.

“Clean,” he repeated in a low voice. “It means that your body and your mind have to stay pure. I will always be able to tell if you have sinned or not.”

I almost laughed again. Oh, really?! Well, I guess I am screwed now, because my mind was as far away from pure as Mojave Desert from Alaska.

“Yes, dad,” I said.

“You may go now,” he said evenly and returned to his potatoes.

I rang the bell of Christy’s house and heard her yell from inside:

“Come in, Jake!!”

I opened the door and walked inside.

“How did you know it was me?” I asked when I got into her living room.

She grinned and got a spoonful of ice-cream.

“Who else would it be? Want some ice-cream?”

“Sure,” I said, thinking that my mother would have a heart attack if she saw Christy eating (“overindulging”) ice-cream out of the box with a huge spoon.

“Go get a spoon,” she nodded and I went into the kitchen.

Christy’s mom was making something in the kitchen that looked like fruit punch.

“Hey, Jake,” she smiled at me.

“Hey, Mary,” I said.

Christy’s mom told me almost seven years ago that I should call her by her first name. “All that Mrs. Bailey nonsense makes me feel old,” she said and wrinkled her nose. I called her Mary ever since.

“I just need to grab a spoon,” I said and she nodded.

“Sure. Hey, hold on a sec, will you…?”

She finished making punch and handed me the pitcher.

“Here,” she said. “Take it into the living room for me, please.”

“Okay,” I took the pitcher from her hands.

“You guys just gonna watch movies?” Mary asked and blew a strawberry-blonde strand of hair off her forehead.

“Probably,” I shrugged. “And talk too…”

“Talk,” she snorted. “I call it gossip, Jake.”

I laughed at that.

“Yeah, well…”

“God, Jake,” she smiled and shook her head. “You two remind me of some old ladies who keep whispering to each other nonstop about something scandalous…”

“Yeah, well…” I said again, suddenly uncomfortable.

If somebody figures out my dirty little secret, I will probably hang myself in my closet. Mary laughed at my expression.

“I am kidding, Jake!” she said. “Go watch your movies! Tell Christy not to spill any punch this time. Took me forever to clean that couch.”

“Okay,” I smiled with relief.

I went back into the living room, and Christy patted her hand on the couch next to her.

“Hurry up, Summers,” she said and licked her spoon. “I wanna finish this movie before you have to leave… What’s your curfew tonight?”

“Nine,” I sighed and sat next to her, carefully setting the pitcher on the table in front of the couch.

“Bah,” she said with frustration. “Used to be ten.”

“Yeah, well… I am not a child anymore, and my body was made for sin,” I sighed.

Christy shook her head.

“Jesus,” she said with annoyance. “Just when I think your parents couldn’t get any weirder…”

“What are we watching?” I took a spoonful of ice cream.

“Fight Club,” she grinned. “It’s kinda old by now, but I’ve never seen it. Matt said it was awesome.”

“Cool,” I nodded. “Hey, Mary said don’t spill any punch.”

Christy winced.

“Yeah,” she said guiltily. “Last time it took her, like, four hours to clean this thing… Hold on, I’ll go get us some glasses…”

She ran into the kitchen and came back a few seconds later with two tall glasses in her hands. She climbed onto the couch and pulled a blanket over herself.

“Do me a favor,” she said quickly. “Pour me some punch please… Otherwise, I’ll spill it again.”

I filled her glass and she looked so happy that I laughed.

“Oh, Bailey,” I sighed. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” she grinned. “I love you too. Oh, hey, speaking of love…” she sipped some punch. “I am in love, Jake!”

“Again?” I rolled my eyes. “Who is it this time?”

She leaned forward and set her glass on the table.

“Alex Landon,” she said smugly, and I spilled my punch.

“Shit!” I cried, and Christy looked at me with wide eyes.

“Oh my God,” she said in awe. “You said shit…”

“Uh huh,” I grimaced. “I am going to say that a lot from now on… Be right back.”

I went into the kitchen and grabbed some paper towels. Mary sighed in defeat.

“She did it again, didn’t she?”

“No,” I mumbled. “This time it was me… I’ll clean the couch though…”

“Here,” she opened the fridge and pulled a bottle of club soda out of it. “Use this.”

I took the bottle and looked at her sadly.

“I am sorry,” I said and she shrugged.

“I am used to it by now, Jake,” she smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

I went back and poured some club soda on the bright-red spot of punch that decorated the couch. Christy dabbed it with a paper towel and looked at me with curiosity.

“Okay,” she said. “Since when do you say shit?”

“Today,” I muttered.

“Why?” she stretched the word so much that it was funny, and I laughed.

“I don’t know,” I said without looking at her. “It’s just…” I sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with my parents much longer.”

“You thinking of moving out?” she frowned and picked up the wet paper towel. “Wow, club soda actually works!”

I looked at the couch. The spot was almost gone.

“Cool,” I nodded. “Yeah, I am thinking about it. I didn’t tell them yet…”

“Jake,” Christy looked at me seriously. “Your dad will kill you.”

“He won’t,” I grimaced. “He might smack me pretty hard, but I am used to it by now. So, tell me about your crush,” I tried to sound lightly.

“Oh, right,” Christy drank more punch. “It’s Landon. He is sooo cute, Jake…! Of course, you don’t see it,” she added with a shrug. “You are a guy.”

“Right,” I said energetically, my heart beating wildly. I couldn’t believe all the turmoil stirring inside me. “But do tell.”

“Okay,” she grinned. “So I was walking to school a couple of days ago, right…?”

“On the morning when you went without me?” I asked, trying to sound indifferent.

“Yeah,” Christy nodded. “So anyway, I am walking to school, and there is Alex, right? He is all like, ‘Hey, Christy!’ and I have no idea how I never noticed how cute he was!”

Every single word that was coming out of her mouth was stabbing me in the heart with poisonous blades.

“...and then he was all like, ‘Hey, do you wanna hang out sometimes?’ ” she kept saying animatedly. “So I said, ‘Sure,’ and he was all like, ‘Cool…!’ ” she took a breath. “So we are going out on Saturday.”

“Where to?” I asked, feeling a strange mix of pain, jealousy, and sadness.

“A movie,” she shrugged and glanced at the clock. “Oh, let’s watch the Fight Club, it’s almost seven-forty.”

“Yeah,” I muttered and sat on the floor next to the couch.

The movie was good. I was surprised when it got my attention even in my current state of mind. I could never watch stuff like that at home. The only channel on our TV was a Christian channel, and we didn’t have a DVD player or even a VCR, since my parents never trusted me enough when I had to stay at home by myself. They were positive that I would watch something that would immediately qualify me to enter Hell Gate with fanfares playing. Fight Club would definitely be on the list of evil temptations.

The movie was over a little after nine and I got up.

“Gotta go,” I said, and Christy nodded.

“See you tomorrow, Jake,” she said. “I am going to tell you more about Alex.”

“Uh huh,” I said, and she laughed.

“Come on! You can tell me all about your crushes too, by the way.”

(“Right. Did I mention that I am crazy about the guy that you are going out with on Saturday?”)

“I will.”

Her eyes immediately widened.

“Ooohhh…” she breathed. “So there is a crush, huh?”

I shrugged indifferently.

“Tell me!” she cried.

“I gotta go home,” I grinned at her, and she stomped her foot on the floor.

“Ugh! You know, Jake, sometimes I just wanna strangle you!”

(“Get in line, Bailey!”)

“See you in the morning, Chris.”

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered. “Night!”