That night, I logged onto Facebook to find a bunch of new friend requests from people in my classes. I guess I’m quickly becoming popular, eh? I recognized three of the girls as my ab fantasizers from English. Oh, so that’s what their names are. After going through my sizeable list of new notifications, I decided to leave a flirtatious wall post for the original girl who came over, Mariana. She’s a hot Latina with a sizeable chest.
Just then, a new AIM window popped up from Ella. Let me tell you about her. She was my absolute best friend back in New York. She’s gorgeous and intelligent, yet I never made a move on her. Not once. Don’t get me wrong, I probably could have had her if I wanted. But I didn’t want to, because I didn’t want to hurt her. Who knows why? She was the only girl I was friends with whose looks matched their intelligence, and I guess I just didn’t want to lose her.
Anyway, I digress. Ella wanted to know how my first day of school was. That’s another thing about her. She remembers all the important dates in her life and in other people’s lives and never fails to act based upon them. Kids in New York start school a few weeks later than the Florida school system commences, so I was honestly surprised that she remembered that today was the first day. I told her about everything – my embarrassment in AP Bio; the people I met; the teachers and how I liked them.
After talking for a bit, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. Hm, an unknown number. I sent “brb” to Ella and answered the phone.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hey Chester! It’s Mariana, from English,” the caller said.
“Uh, how did you get my number?” I asked.
“Your Facebook. It was on there.”
“Oh, right. So what’s up?”
“Nothing, about to get school supplies, you?”
“Eh, you know, relaxing, music, instant messenger, whatever.”
“Interesting.”
I chuckled and said, “If you find that interesting, you must be deeply intrigued with the average lives of every kid in the country.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” I sighed and rolled my eyes to myself.
“Alright. Anyway, I called to find out what you’re doing tonight.”
“Nothing, actually. I was probably going to stop by Jeff Carter’s house, if you know him. He lives on my street. Unless you have something better to do, that is.”
“Yeah, I do. I have Spanish with him. Anyway, I was going to invite you to Boomers to go with Jaime and a couple other people. But if you’re too busy with Jeff…” she trailed off.
“Oh no, I’d much rather be with you guys, trust me.”
“I don’t blame you.”
I laughed and said, “Yeah, Jeff’s not exactly the coolest guy on the block.”
“Tell me about it.” Her voice was heavily weighted with the tone of
“I hate that damn kid”.
“Anyway,” I continued, “what exactly is Boomers? Sorry, I haven’t been able to explore too far away from my house.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I remembered that you were new in town. Boomers is some local arcade. I know, arcades are for fags and all, but it’s a fun place to hang out, and they don’t mind teens doing whatever.”
“First of all,” I said in a stern voice, “I don’t approve of the word fag. It’s one of my pet peeves.”
“I’m so sorry,” she immediately gushed. “I’m just used to people being all, ‘Arcades are for fags, Mariana’, you know?”
“I do know. And second of all, where is this arcade?”
“Uh, Airport Road, off of Spanish River and Military, I think. I’ll send you a Google Maps link on Facebook if you give me your address.”
“Alright. And what time should I get there?”
“Hm. 8, and try and get picked up around 10 or 11 if you can.”
“That’s late for a school night.”
“Everybody does it.”
“That’s what they say about smoking pot.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Another sigh from me. “Whatever, I’ll see you there. I’ll just ride my bike or something so my mom doesn’t get pissed about picking me up so late.”
“Alright. Can’t wait. See you tonight.”
“Yep. Bye.” I hung up. So much for my peaceful night of watching porn.
----------
When the clock stuck 7:30, I grabbed my iPod, shouted to my mom that I was going for a bike ride to meet some friends, and before she could object, rolled out of the driveway on two wheels. Mariana’s directions led me to estimate that it would take half an hour to get there by bike. A quick glance and I had memorized the route to Boomers.
I forgot to tell you how bad Boca Raton traffic is, so I might as well bring it up now that I’m on my bike. I know that every city has horror stories about bad drivers, but until you come to Boca, shut the hell up and quit bitching. There are four types of Boca Raton drivers. Old person who goes 20 in a 40 zone, female who changes lanes without signaling, middle-aged and rich businessman who goes 65 in a 40 zone from the comfort of his climate-controlled Corvette, and the teenager driving 85 to impress his girlfriend. There are no good drivers, period.
I arrived at Boomers a couple minutes after 8 and found Mariana and her friends standing outside. I ran up to her and gave her a hug, something I generally don’t do to people who I just met a few hours ago. But hey, someone feels your abs, I say that you’re entitled to hug them.
She introduced me to the three girls with her. “This is Taylor,” a short girl wearing an Aquabats T-shirt, “Jaime,” an ugly girl with an awful haircut, “and Brianna.” Shit. Brianna was here. What a bummer. She’s attractive and I know I can have her, but Mariana is hot, and I’d rather hook up with her. I nodded at her, which she returned with a small smile.
The five of us walked inside. I felt like a pimp, which makes sense, because I am one. Hey, I’m with four girls I barely know, with sexual tension between two of them. The games we played in the arcade are absolutely meaningless. I impressed them with my skills at DDR by full-comboing A on Oni, but that’s the only notable event.
What was notable, however, was when we snuck onto the mini golf course to take Myspace pictures and whatnot. I took some pretty seductive pictures with Mariana, and at one point I whispered in her ear about how I wanted her that night. I know, I know, that’s a stupid move for a guy to make, but I’m confident in myself, and the move paid off, because Mariana said that she knew exactly what I meant. Score. I’m good.
Before I could pursue anything else, Mariana announced to nobody in particular that she had to go to the bathroom. I guess this was an open invitation, because Jamie walked off with her. You know how girls are. It’s weird how they always escort each other. Anyway. This left Brianna and I alone. I sat down next to her, awfully close to her, and made small talk about absolutely nothing.
At one point, she asked me why I was even here. I said, “Mariana invited me, and I didn’t want to say no. I was going to go to Jeff’s house, but whatever.”
She said, “I’m glad you came.”
“Uh, why?”
“Because I like you.”
I knew it. I smiled and said, “So we share feelings.”
She giggled and said, “Why do you like me, then?”
Shit. I had to dig deep on this one. “You’re smart, funny, and attractive. Is that not reason enough to like someone?” What bullshit. I hadn’t heard her tell a single joke, nor did I have an estimate of her intelligence. Girls lap that crap up, though, and Brianna was no exception, because she said, “Awh! That’s the sweetest thing a guy’s ever said to me.”
I gave her another smile and decided to go in for a kiss. Wrong choice. She gave me a head turn. Fuck. I said, “What the hell?”
She responded with an angry voice, “I said I like you. I didn’t say that I wanted to hook up with you yet.” Fuck, I guess all girls aren’t sluts. Guess what I did? I stood up angrily and walked inside without even looking back.
I ran into Mariana on the way in, and I threw my arms around her and gave her a kiss, which she returned. She smiled and said, “What gives?”
I gave her a coy grin and said, “Well, I like you.” She went in for another, and we started making out in the middle of Boomers.
You know, if I wasn’t such a dick, maybe I would have noticed Brianna standing about thirty feet behind me, crying.
