Gina & Mike (The Yearbook Series Book 1) Read online

  The bell rang and Mike kissed me again before heading off for the last class of the day. I had English class, and I was hoping that the teacher was in one of her talking moods. Sometimes, she wasted an entire period telling stories about when she was a kid. There was this one guy who was really good at luring her into monologues when no one felt like working. I would have to tell Eric that today was one of those days and see what he could do.

  “Hey, Gina. Wait up.”

  I turned around to see my best friend, Sue. A hair over five feet tall, she’s built like a gymnast and definitely has the energy of one. Everyone calls her Tigger, because she always seems to be bouncing from place to place.

  “How come you didn’t call me back last night?”

  “I had to babysit, remember?”

  “Yeah, I know. But you could have called afterward. I had something really important to tell you.”

  “Like what?”

  Sue looked around to see if anyone was super near us and then leaned in close to me. “Like Dave broke up with Diane and now she doesn’t have a date to the prom and she bought her dress already.”

  My eyes popped like champagne corks. “Really? But they’ve been together forever.”

  “Yeah, as long as you and Mike. Maybe a little longer.”

  “How’s Diane?”

  “OK. She said she saw it coming. She said that Dave was ignoring her and acting weird. Dave, on the other hand, acts like he’s won the freakin’ lottery. Jerk!”

  “So what’s Diane going to do?”

  “Take her dress back. She said that even if a guy asked her to the prom that she wouldn’t want to go because she’d feel like he was only asking her because he pitied her or something. And she doesn’t want to be pitied.”

  “What about Dave?”

  “Word in the hall is that he’s going to ask a ninth-grader. Some girl he’s apparently had his eye on all year. “

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. It totally sucks for Diane.”

  I couldn’t help but thinking how trivial the whole Dave and Diane saga was compared to what I was dealing with. I mean, I was raped. Raped by one of my teachers. I couldn’t tell Mom. I couldn’t tell my best friend. I couldn’t tell anyone. About the only thing I could do was stay as far away from asshole Smith as I could.

  I couldn’t avoid going to class, but I could avoid babysitting for him. Mom would wonder why I stopped babysitting for the Smiths, so I’d have to come up with good excuses. Then again, maybe the asshole will tell his wife that I’m a lousy babysitter and not to call me anymore. The worst part about this colossal mess is that I really liked Alex and Andrew. I’ll miss them, and I’m pretty sure they’ll miss me.

  Eric was sitting at his desk right inside the door when I walked into English class. I stopped and whispered into his ear. He nodded, and I knew he would see what he could do.

  Chapter 3

  Gina

  Eric charmed Mrs. Hoffman, who was more round than she was tall, and it wasn’t long before she was decades deep telling a story from her childhood. She was the type of person who told you every little detail. Sometimes, she got so caught up in the details that she’d forget where she was in the story and someone would have to remind her. Today, she talked about the big red and white Coca-Cola cooler at this store near her childhood home.

  “And you’d flipped back the lid, reach into the ice-cold water and pull out a bottle of soda,” she said, rubbing her chubby hands together as if she was warming them. “There was a bottle opener attached to the front of the cooler. I’d wipe the wet bottle off with my shirt, pop off the cap and drink it fast so I wouldn’t have to share it with my sister.”

  Of course Eric, who looked like Clark Kent minus the glasses, did his usual good job of asking questions to keep the story going. Mrs. Hoffman thought he asked the questions because he was genuinely interested in what she had to say and for that, he was her forever favorite.

  Today, he asked her what kinds of soda they had back then and she went on to talk about Frostie root beer (her favorite).

  “I can still picture the bottle cap. It was red, white and blue with a picture of a man with a mustache and beard,” she said. “Back then, you’d get a penny for every glass soda bottle you returned to the store. Of course, I always returned the bottle because I could then buy a piece of penny candy.”

  It was at this point – in the middle of her describing the red, white and blue bottle cap – that I zoned out. Her details were like sleeping pills. The more she fed me the sleepier I got.

  When I jerked awake, Mrs. Hoffman was describing how the store owner chewed tobacco.

  “This man, who was probably in his late 60s or early 70s. Oh, and did I tell you that he lost the tip of his middle finger in a meat slicer when he was quite younger? Yes, well, anyway he did. Uh, where was I?”

  “He chewed tobacco,” Eric said.

  “Yes, the tobacco. Well, old Mr. Mahoney would open the store door and spit out the big, juicy wads of tobacco. And if I walked to the store in bare feet, which I often did in the summer. I hated shoes. Still do. I’d have to be careful not to step on the wet wads.”

  “Did you ever step on one?” Eric asked.

  Thank God the bell rang because her description of stepping on a slimy black blob was making me want to puke.

  “Thanks, Eric,” I whispered as I walked past him. “The tobacco wads were a little too much, though.”

  He smiled. “I didn’t feel like discussing The Iliad either so it was all good.”

  When I got to my locker, Sue was waiting for me. “You didn’t forget, did you?”

  I had no idea what she was talking about.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Prom dress shopping. You said you’d go with me.”

  “Crap. I did forget. I promised Mike that I would be ready by 7 so I need to be home by 6.”

  “Well, that gives us a couple of hours. We can get one shop in. How about Bridal Bliss?”

  “Sure.”

  I really didn’t feel like going dress shopping with Sue, but I knew how excited she was about this year’s prom. She really, really, really liked Ron. Last year’s prom was more of a friend affair. Sue needed a date and Keith needed a date and they were friends so they decided to go together. This year was a different story. She was really hot for this basketball player we met when we cheered at St. Francis Catholic High. We saw Ron in the hallway after the game and he asked Sue for her number. They had been hot and heavy ever since. She was even thinking about going the whole way with him.

  When we got to the bridal shop, there were rows and rows of dresses in every color and style imaginable. Sue had brought a teen fashion magazine (prom edition) and showed the page she had paper clipped to the clerk.

  “I’d like something like this,” she said, pointing to a picture of a long powder blue gown with sequins on the bodice.

  “I think I have something similar,” the clerk said. “Follow me.”

  I leaned against the floral wallpaper wall as Sue tried on dress after dress. I was glad I had my prom dress and all of the accessories bought. Mom and I had taken care of that a few weeks ago. I chose a pink gown that I absolutely adored as soon as Mom pulled it off the rack. Better yet, it was on sale because the style was being discontinued. So I got my dress for half of its original price. I loved bargains.

  “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the best, what’s this dress?” Sue asked, turning in a circle. It was a mint green gown with poufy sleeves.

  “A six.”

  “I agree. The dress has to be a ten.”

  She held up the first dress she tried on. It was a pale yellow with a fitted bodice, scoop neckline and elbow length sleeves that gathered into sleeve bands. “This one reminds me the most of Princess Di’s.”

  I agreed; it was the closest. Sue was fascinated by the whole Princess Di and Prince Charles love affair. The day of the wedding, she got up super early so she could watch the ent
ire ceremony on TV. She was determined to find a prom dress that had some resemblance to Di’s dress. The clerk wrote all of the information down on a card for Sue, who decided to check a few more shops before making her final decision. By the time I got home, I was exhausted.

  I had an hour before Mike picked me up. I set my alarm so I could lie down for twenty minutes before hopping into the shower.

  I had tossed and turned the night before. The rape played over and over in my mind. And like a movie you watch repeatedly, new details emerged that you saw but had forgotten or pushed aside. Like the dark, dime-size mole on Smith’s torso between his belly button and pubic hair.

  I thought about what I could have done, what I should have done to stop Smith. I was mad at myself for not fighting him harder, and I vowed to take classes to learn how to defend myself better.

  I never said anything to Mike, but I wasn’t exactly thrilled when I got Smith for calc. His wife was nice enough. I actually met her through church. She sang in the choir with Mom and when she was looking for a babysitter a couple years ago, Mom suggested me. Of course, that was before I had Smith for class and Mike was my boyfriend.

  Mike licked his dripping ice-cream cone. “What’s wrong with you tonight? I can tell something’s bothering you.”

  I bit my lower lip. God I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. For starters, Mike would confront Smith and probably kill the bastard and end up in jail. And second, what proof did I have? Zilch! Maybe I should have kept the sundress just in case I’d change my mind. But Mr. Smith’s semen on my dress wouldn’t prove that he raped me. It would just prove that somehow his semen got on my dress. The how was the important part and Smith would probably turn it around and I’d come out looking like a slut who came on to him.

  “Sorry I’m not my usual self. Guess I just have a lot on my mind,” I told Mike.

  “Like what?”

  “Just school stuff.”

  “Like the physics exam?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sure you did fine. Probably got an A. Oh. Almost forgot. Did you hear about Dave and Diane?”

  “Sues told me. I can’t believe it.”

  Mike wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It wasn’t a complete shock to me. Dave’s been talking about that Caryn chick for awhile.”

  “The ninth-grader?”

  Mike nodded. “Dave says he’ll get to third base on the first date.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say that, Dave did.”

  “Yeah, but you repeated it,” I told him.

  “To you.”

  “Still…”

  “Man, you are a little edgy. Let’s get out of here.”

  I grabbed my purse and followed Mike to his beat-up brown sedan with coffee-stained interior. By the time we got to our making-out spot, my heart revved into overdrive.

  Mike turned off the car and looked at me. “Gina, you’re shaking.” He cupped my hands in his. “If you don’t want to make out, it’s OK. I’ll take you home.”

  “No,” I said. “I want to be with you.”

  Mike leaned over and we kissed. Gentle kisses rolled into urgent ones. And after a few minutes of deep kissing we grabbed his blue sleeping bag out of the trunk and headed into the woods. Our making-out spot was under a towering oak tree that scratched the sky.

  Mike unzipped the nylon bag the entire way so it was like a double-size blanket. The plaid liner faced up. I lay down beside him and we started kissing again. Mike reached under my shirt and I flinched.

  “Relax, baby,” he whispered into my ear.

  He unhooked my bra and I helped him unbutton my shirt. I tried to relax, but as Mike’s mouth trailed down my neck onto my chest, my heart raced. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I pictured the beach that would help me relax. It worked when I was in the dentist chair and he was drilling a cavity. But picturing the beach didn’t work. When I closed my eyes, I saw Smith’s bushy mustache and bald head and dime-size mole and heard him say, “Tight bitch.”

  I stiffened as Mike kissed one breast and then the other. He moaned. “Oh, Gina, baby. I missed you.”

  I stiffened.

  Mike stopped his trail of kisses. “Tell ya what,” he said, pushing back the strands of hair that fell across my face. “Not sure what’s going on with you, but I’m just going to hold you. We don’t have to do anything. Just let me hold you.”

  I nodded. “Sorry.”

  He lay on his side, and I backed up as close as I could to him. He slipped his bulging bicep around me and pulled me even closer. His bare chest was against my naked back. I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.

  “You know that I love you, right Gina?” he whispered. “I love you more than anything.”

  I reached down and pulled up his pitching hand and kissed it. “I know. And I love you, too.”

  I hated Smith. I hated him for what he did and for how he made me feel. I hated myself for allowing it to happen. If only I would have said no to babysitting. If only Mike hadn’t been working that night then we would have been together. If only, if only. I hated those two words, too.

  I loved Mike. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to marry him and have his kids, but every time he touched me I became defensive, like he was trying to hurt me. But Mike would never hurt me. He loved me. I kept telling myself that I would get better; that these feelings I had would pass. That I just needed time. And I also realized how much I was dreading Monday. I was scared to death of Smith and how he would react the first time he saw me. The dread shrouded me like a morning fog, only this fog never gave way to sunshine.

  “You’re not mad, are you?” I asked Mike as he pulled in front of my house.

  He turned off the car. “I’m not mad; I just don’t understand what’s going on. We haven’t been together for a while and I know that you were looking forward to tonight as much as I was. And then the way you acted, like you didn’t want to be with me or something.”

  I looked at Mike with his puppy dog droopy eyes. His smile had run away from his face. I hated that I was disappointing him. “It’s not you. I swear. I just have some things I need to work through. Things I’m not ready to talk about.”

  He slammed the steering wheel. “But we tell each other everything.”

  I sighed. “You’re right. We usually do. But…”

  “But what, Gina?”

  Mike was practically shouting and it startled me. I wasn’t used to him raising his voice.

  “You just have to trust me on this one, Mike. I love you. It has nothing to do with you or my feelings for you. They haven’t changed. They’ll never change. But I need to work out some things and you have to let me and trust that I love you more than anything.”

  He reached over and lifted my chin. “Damn. OK. I’ll give you time, but I still wish you’d let me know what’s going on inside that beautiful red head of yours.”

  I smiled. “Just remember that I love you.”

  We kissed long and deep before I said goodbye, got out of the car and walked inside.

  ****

  I sat in church and listened to Pastor Greg’s sermon about Jesus going into the wilderness for forty days. He said that we all have our wilderness stories, times in our lives when things didn’t go right.

  “Some of you might be in the wilderness right now,” he said. “Jesus went into the wilderness as a carpenter’s son and came out as the Messiah.”

  He told us to find meaning in our wilderness, glimmers of grace.

  I was definitely in the wilderness, and I was not seeing any glimmers of grace. And I was pretty sure that when I came out of the wilderness, I wasn’t going to be changed for the better.

  Screw the whole wilderness saga, I thought. There was no way I was going to find meaning in a wilderness that I had been forced into by a drunk teacher who I was pretty sure was also high on something.

  Sue found me after church and asked if things went better on Saturday with Mike. I didn’t tell
her about the rape, only that Mike and I were having a tough time. Saturday was more or less a repeat of Friday. Mike picked me up after work and we went to the movies and then to the woods. He ended up just holding me like the night before.

  “You’re not going to end up like Dave and Diane, are you?” Sue asked.

  My eyes spat fire. “It’s not that bad. Just a little rough right now.”

  “OK. Just checking. Cause I really like Mike.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “Sometimes maybe too much.”

  ****

  I wasn’t prepared to see the bastard at the gas station on Monday, but just as I rammed the nozzle into my gas tank he slid into the pump in front of me. I didn’t look at him. I looked at the ground and then at the pump and then back down at the ground. When the nozzle clicked, I hung it up, screwed on the cap and headed inside to pay. When I came out, Smith was waiting by my car. He had a doozy of a black eye.

  “Look, Gina,” he said. “About Thursday night. Sorry that happened. Guess I got a little out of hand.”

  “A little? No, I’d say a lot, you fuckin’ pig. And don’t you ever think about touching me again.”

  He kicked the ground. “Well, remember what I said. Keep what happened between you and me and Mike gets to be a star. Don’t, and he might just have the worst baseball season ever.”

  My eyes threw daggers. I knew I had to be brave. I couldn’t appear weak, even though I was shaking and felt fear choking me. I needed to let him know that I meant business. I had practiced what I would say all day Sunday if and when I had the chance to confront him. I just had to keep calm and not lose my nerve.

  “First, I hate your fuckin’ guts and the only reason I’m not saying anything to anyone is because I love Mike and want the best for him. But I have another condition.”

  He tilted his badass bald head. “What?”

  “I get an A in your class.”

  “But you’re barely passing.”

  “Guess that means I’ll be your miracle student.”