observations, hers and mine.
Wild Waters Day Dawned
Mom and Scott
wandered over to the group
picnic area to join the company
brownnosers and nibble.
Leigh and Jake went off together,
racing to see who could reach
the top of Black Widow first.
Trent hit the wave pool.
Sarah hit the bathroom—she always
showered before entering the pool.
I opted for an inner-tube float along
the Lazy River, mostly because of this
very cute lifeguard, perched overhead.
And there was Bree, smiling seductively,
and I swear that poster boy lifeguard
smiled right back.
And in that righteous moment, complete
clarity. Bree was not an invention,
not a stranger.
Bree was the essence of me.
Whether That’s Good or Bad
I can’t say. I just know it’s true.
Bree opens doors
Kristina wouldn’t dare
knock on,
like that cute lifeguard’s—
not to mention Adam’s,
even if that one had recently
slammed in her face.
But Bree insists on having
things all her way.
So when Trent and Sarah
came trucking up,
bickering and tittering
and doing all those little
cutesy friend-type things,
Kristina never minded.
Bree wanted to tell them
to shut the hell up, go
away. Let her play.
For a while,
without the monster
whispering sweet
and terrible
nothings,
Kristina was still in charge.
But Bree was watching.
Rather Than Face
total embarrassment, I
told Trent and Sarah I’d
meet them at Black Widow.
They looked at me,
looked at what I was looking at,
hard-bodied and tan on his tall tower.
Trent gave me a thumbs-up.
Sarah broke out in giggles.
Then they graciously provided space.
I invited Bree to take over while
Kristina took cover. She bent forward
from the waist, shook her dripping hair,
straightened, flipped it backward,
and without a single thought to the
puffy pink heart on her thigh
(let alone its artist), she marched right
over to that lifeguard tower, looked up
and, without drooling at all, asked,
“Do you get a lunch break?”
Before Bree
that would never have happened.
Whatever she’d done to me,
for me, and basically
in spite of me,
she’d given me a whole
new sense of self.
I never knew
I could play the vamp,
do it so well, flirt
with total aplomb,
and not only that, but
look good doing it.
Before Bree I never
knew such sheer, depraved
forwardness could
be so much fun.
So I went with it,
jumped right into the role
of shameless flirt.
Girls responded
with pointed whispers,
haughty laughter and, as
I myself have often done,
with evil eyes.
Bree, of course, couldn’t
care less. In fact she thrived
on any and all attention.
Guys responded
to that with solid
once-overs, come-on smiles, and
in Brendan the lifeguard’s case,
with phone numbers.
As If That Weren’t Enough
I sprinted off in search of my friends
and (literally) bumped into Chase
Wagner, Reno High’s stoned bad boy.
Kristina would have offered a quick
apology and scurried away.
It’s not like Chase was in
the running for Mr. America.
He looked like a linebacker,
one who didn’t play much
in the sun—the freckles on his
cranberry skin almost pulsed pain.
But Bree found his bedroom
eyes—glacier blue—and brooding
demeanor quite the turn on.
“Hey, Chase,” she cooed.
He scoped me out like an old
tomcat, ogling a brand-new canary.
Do I know you?
Kristina knew enough about him
to think she ought to flee.
Chase Wagner could be
hazardous to a person’s health.
You look familiar, but not, so maybe
I’m thinking of someone else.
What’s your name?
Just like that, she had him.
If she wanted him. Her game was no
less dangerous than his. “Call me Bree.”
Right Then, Three People
shouted, “Kristina!”
Time to beat a face-saving retreat, so
I smiled and told Chase I’d catch him later.
I looked around and saw Mom,
waving to come and eat,
Leigh, minus Jake,
gesturing to come share a towel,
Sarah, at the top of Black Widow,
watching Trent’s wet ride down.
“Not hungry yet,” I shouted to Mom.
To Leigh, “Be there in a few.”
Then I joined my oldest, bestest
friends in the world, tried to think
of something to talk about
besides lifeguards, bad boys,
and this person named Bree,
growing stronger inside me,
convincing me to be someone
I never dreamed I’d want to be.
I know you should be able
to share such news with best friends,
but I felt pretty sure they’d never
relate and maybe refuse to forgive
me for trading in the tried-and-true
for a test drive of the dark side.
Still, When Brendan Came By
I left my friends with my sister, took
a walk to the back of the park, the eyes
in back of my head noting envious stares.
Brendan noticed, too.
You related to those people?
“Pretty much.” I bummed a cigarette,
inhaled like it was the healthiest
thing a person could do.
The pretty one looks like you,
but the others don’t
My turn for a jealous jolt. But I had a secret
weapon. “The pretty one is my lesbian
sister. The others are my cousins.”
Lesbian! Really? I never met
one before. How about you?
I laughed. “Of course I’ve met one, if my
sister is one. Oh, you mean do I lean that
direction? No way. I prefer male hardware.”
I like what you’ve got, too, li’l
sister. At least, what I can see.
Male hardware? Must have read it in Cosmo.
Whatever. Brendan touched my hair, made
a move like he just might kiss me….
Damn. There’s my boss. Back
to work. Call me, okay?
I wondered if I could. I’d always waited
for boys to call me. Which is why I never
talked to any except Trent. And Adam.
By the way,
beautiful, what’s
your name? In case you call.
Twice in one day! I almost told him
the truth but realized the fantasy was better
and rested completely in Bree’s hands.
I Went Home
tired, tanned, and
stuffed on barbecue,
Scott insisted
high on life,
nicotine, and
purloined booze,
Chase invited
elated, pumped
up, full of Bree’s
magical ego,
Brendan inflated
chastised, brought
back down
a notch or two,
Leigh instigated
then all the way,
chest-deep into
shit when
Mom finally noticed
the tattoo, my
meaningless, forever
symbol of love. Still,
Bree swore
whatever
punishment
lay ahead,
only one thing
could have
improved
that phat,
fabulous day:
a big bite
of the monster.
Grounded UFN
Until further notice. No
excursions, no calls.
How unfair could you get?
Couldn’t she just decide how mad to be,
then mold the consequences to fit?
I’m so disappointed in you!
What else was new? She was only good
with “all I could be” when it involved
a straight-A report card.
Don’t you realize this could
scar you forever?
Well, duh, Mom. It already had,
though not in the way you imagined.
Couldn’t you have asked about that?
Why can’t you be more
like your sister?
Did she mean look more like her? Be
PhD bound? Or maybe she wanted me
gay? Lesbians and pregnancy rarely mix.
How can I trust you to make
good decisions?
Oh, great. Here it came. No driver’s
training, no driver’s license. Their
way of keeping me cooped up forever.
Driver’s training is on hold.
And to keep you from feeling
cooped up, you can pull weeds.
Fine. I was almost 17, would never
drive, and now I’d spend my summer
yanking goats’ heads.
The Problem with Being Grounded
is it gives you a whole lot of
unavoidable time to
think.
Not even pulling weeds can
take away your ability to
plot
all the varied and wonderful
things you might do to
get even,
or at least to make up
just a smidgen
for time lost
to TV and yard work
and house cleaning.
Time better spent
camping with old friends
(even slightly annoying ones),
partying
with great-looking new friends,
and expending a few brain cells
with the monster.
She Cut Me Loose
Two weeks before
Back-to-School,
gave me her credit
Didn’t matter much.
card and a ride to
Summer had dissolved.
the mall, her way of
New clothes and a few
apologizing without
new tunes just might
saying she was sorry
improve my “sour
for trashing my summer.
outlook,” as she so
lovingly termed it.
Jake wanted to come
along, but I told him
I’d crawl into bed
I usually despise trying
and stay there rather
on clothes but, finally
than haul my little
free, I meant to make it
brother around the
an all-day affair, shop
mall. He went fishing
every store, including
with Scott instead.
Victoria’s Secret. Guess
who I ran into there?
The Reno High Varsity
Cheerleaders, all buying
new undies and bras to
I waved to Trent’s sister,
shape those tight tanks
Robyn, then pretended
and sweaters (football
to browse, watching them
weather in Reno is an
yak a hundred words a
exceptionally mixed bag).
minute, and I knew my
suspicions were accurate.
Those goody-goody girls,
flipping perfect cartwheels
and pert little ponytails,
most definitely accelerated
their metabolisms. The only
question was: how?
I Pondered That
while I picked out
my own underwear.
As I handed the saleslady
Mom’s credit card, someone
tapped my shoulder.
Hey, Bree. Can I see
your panties.
Chase! I tried to think
of a witty comeback,
managing mostly to look
like a stuttering fool.
“Uh-oh, uh—old or new?”
Either, or. Better yet, both.
What’s up? Where you been?
Like he’d been looking
for me since Wild Waters.
Like I’d been avoiding him.
You haven’t been avoiding me,
have you?
Why would I? What
he might lack in looks,
he more than made up for
in fringe benefits.
I explained about the tattoo.
You really wanna piss her off,
try a piercing. Want to see mine?
I couldn’t find studs in his
ears, lips, or tongue. Which
pretty much left one place.
“Didn’t it hurt?”
Like a mother. But it feels
awesome now.
He guided my hand
just south of his zipper.
Kristina recoiled.
Bree—well,
Bree was Bree,
to Chase’s great pleasure.
Hee hee. So want to take
a little ride? Got my truck outside.
I started to protest.
I had some serious
shopping ahead.
And Bree or no Bree,
I wasn’t about to do
Chase Wagner.
No strings. I just want to get
to know you better.
Where had I heard
a similar tale?
I was about to give him
a definite no when he
sweetened the offer.
I’ve got a little toot, if you’re
so inclined.
Did It Show?
I mean I’d
thought
about
the monster
dreamed
about
the monster
lusted
for
the monster
regretted
knowing
the monster
but I hadn’t
touched
the monster
in over a month.
Hadn’t even seen it.
Thought I might be over it.
Was it still alive in me?
Could it still have such
a solid ho
ld on me?
We Drove Down by the River
parked beneath towering cottonwoods.
Strange, how intensely desire
builds when the monster waits
at the far end of a drive.
On the way I learned, for a bad boy
Chase was incredibly smart. Webster