Sloppy Firsts_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [53]
Becky’s dirty-blond braid poked through the back of Scotty’s maroon baseball cap, and the sight of it sent my stomach into spasms.
At that moment, I started wondering if Scotty’s enlarged gut has in any way affected his back crevice. Scotty had the best back crevice. I saw it whenever Manda rode shotgun and Scotty was stuck in the backseat with me. Scotty would lean toward the front seat to say something to Burke and his shirt would scooch up, revealing the muscular ridge cut from the middle of his back down to the elastic of his underwear.
I was thinking about Scotty and me together on that familiar road.
And I wanted to tell him this.
Suddenly the left-turn signal flashed red in my face. He and Becky were turning onto a road that didn’t lead to his house. It’s a road I’ve never been down before. As we passed them on the shoulder, he leaned across Becky to honk the horn with one hand and waved us away with the other. He knew I was behind him all along. More importantly, he knew I would wave back.
I’m being such a girl right now. I have no right to be jealous. Scotty isn’t my boyfriend. I barely let him be my friend, no matter how hard he tried. I guess I just didn’t want an in-the-face confirmation that I was right all along: our destinations differed from the get-go. Or perhaps I slammed on the brakes too early.
the twenty-ninth
I really need to get my period. I’ve got too many hormones stashed in my system. Or not enough. Whatever. All I know is that I’m out-of-control overemotional lately.
This evening’s two cases in point:
On my break, I decided to check out how The Geek was doing. The Geek is the main attraction of the skill game called, appropriately, Shoot the Geek. There is always a throng of testosterifically charged-up idiot boys lined up, dollar bills in hand, to fire paintball bazooka guns at The Geek. The Geek’s identity has always been anonymous, concealed by camouflage fatigues and an oversize mask in the likeness of the most maligned man of the moment. Past pariahs include Saddam Hussein and Ken Starr. This year The Geek is Bill Gates. For as long as I can remember, even before I started working here, The Geek was universally acknowledged as the most degrading job on the boardwalk.
Until this year.
This summer, The Geek was mesmerizing to watch. He rocked. Seriously. He was lightning quick and dodged those jackoffs’ shots with ease. Their inability to blast the hell out of him was an affront to their muy macho manhood. They screamed and yelled and pounded their fists in fury. But The Geek wasn’t intimidated in the least. In fact, he went out of his way to taunt his tormentors with obscene hand and finger gestures. He totally pissed them off. It was hilarious. The Geek never failed to cheer me up.
Tonight, of course, was the exception.
When I stopped by, The Geek was just standing there. He wasn’t egging on the enemy by giving them the finger or diving on the ground to dodge their blasts. The Geek just got battered, each hit splattering his camouflage fatigues. Red! Yellow! Blue! I couldn’t see his face, but it was clear by the way he slumped and shrugged that The Geek’s spirit had been broken. I suppose getting paid five fifty an hour to be pelted by paintballs triggered by attitudinal tourists would do that to the best of us.
I wanted to offer him some encouragement. "C’mon, Geek! Get up! Give ’em hell. You can do it!" This would’ve been for my benefit as much as his. Yet I kept my mouth shut and moved on.
Then I started thinking. What if this is the best job The Geek can get? That’s no joke. What if he’s a "lifer" like the Whack Our Kats man? One of those losers who works on the boards between Memorial Day and Labor Day, then collects unemployment the rest of the year? Or what if he’s one of the poor Europeans