How to Ruin Series Part 116

"How did I do that?" I ask.

"You're the first person to make the pain of my brother's death bearable." He kisses me, right here in the car on the side of the barren desert road. "When I'm with you, I'm whole again."

I smile, inside and out. But I'm embarra.s.sed so I look down and finger the heavy silver chain hanging from his wrist.

"You want it?" he asks.

"If you want to give it to me," I say back shyly.

He takes it off and fastens it to my wrist.

"It's like you're telling everyone you're mine," he says. "At least for now."

I lean toward Avi and recapture his lips with mine. Like before, his kisses are drugging me and I'm feeling dreamy and lightheaded.

Before I realize it, I'm lying on top of him. I can feel his hard body under me, the warmth and strength of his muscles beneath mine.

"We should stop," he says.

I nibble on his ear and say, "Uh huh."

He throws his head back and moans. "I mean it, Amy. We're in a rental car on the side of the road."

This time I lick a path from his earlobe to his mouth. "Uh huh."

"You want to wear me down, don't you?"

"Uh huh."

I like the way I make him feel when we're together. I also really like the wild sensations running through my body right now, too, as I move my body against his.

When I feel him start to give in to my hands and mouth, I stop and sit up. I mean, we're in public and anyone could just peek in the window. Would the windows steam up if we continued? I didn't think it could get hotter in the car than outside, but I'm feeling pretty toasty even though the air conditioning is on.

He licks his lips slowly and opens his eyes. "I can't move."

I laugh. "Did I make you forget to be angry all the time?"

"Definitely."

"Good. I can do this forever if it'll make you happy."

His fingers move to my shoulder and he slides the strap on my tank down. "I wish .

. ." he says, leaning his head forward and lightly kissing my shoulder.

I know what he wants to say. I want him to say it, but then I remember our little agreement. No getting too involved.

Too bad, I'm already so into him it's scary.

But I know he would regret it if we did go too far. And we are, in fact, parked on the side of a road. "If you don't stop kissing me like that, I'm going to rip all your clothes off," I say.

A little moan escapes from his mouth and he leans back. "I'm crazy about you."

"Good. Remember that when some pretty Israeli girl hits on you after I'm gone. Now let's get back to the others, or I really am going to follow through with my threat."

A half hour later, when we turn onto the road leading to the hotel, Avi says, "So what's the story with your parents?"

He asks me this loaded question and I turn toward the window. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not? Lots of parents get divorced."

Yeah, only my parents were never married to begin with. Try telling that story to your peers at school. I always feel they think my mom just slept with a random guy in college and got pregnant. And the sucky part about it is, it's not far from the truth.

"Tell me about your parents," I counter.

"I never hear much about them from Ron or my aunt and uncle."

"There's not much to tell. My mom works as a teacher on the moshav and my father is your uncle's partner. Okay, your turn."

I take a deep breath. "My parents were never married and I should never have been born. I was, shall we say, a mistake.

A very big sixteen-year-old mistake."

There, I said it. My face is hot and my eyes are watery. I'm holding myself together as best I can under the circ.u.mstances. I've thought about my life and what a mistake it is about a million times. I've never actually voiced it aloud before.

We arrive at the hotel and Avi parks the car in the parking lot. "I'm not a very religious guy," he says, "but I know there's a very important reason you were born."

"You sound like a rabbi," I say.

"No, I'm just a sheep farmer."

"Avi, you are SO much more than that and you know it," I lean back in the pa.s.senger seat and sigh. "I don't want today to end."

He flashes me one of his dazzling smiles. "Me either."

I look into his eyes and he holds my gaze for a long minute. We don't say anything more, there's no words that can say what I want to say to him. Or are there? "Avi-"

"Shh," he whispers, covering my lips with his fingers. "I know."

I reluctantly get out of the car and head for the lobby of the hotel.

The rest of the gang is waiting for us.

When I spot Snotty . . . make that Osnat .

. . sitting alone in the corner, I go up to her.

"I'm sorry I said you wear short s.h.i.+rts, tight pants, and have a sorry excuse for b.r.e.a.s.t.s."

Osnat shakes her head in confusion.

I s.h.i.+ft my feet and look at the ground. "I mean, you do wear tight pants . . . and your b.r.e.a.s.t.s are smaller than mine. But they're lovely b.r.e.a.s.t.s. And I'm sure it's the style in Israel to have tight pants."

Her eyebrows are raised as she says, "Are you trying to apologize to me? If you are, you're doing a lousy job."

I open my arms out wide and say, "Give me a break here, I'm not used to being all gushy and apologetic."

Osnat stands up and says, "I'm sorry I said your b.r.e.a.s.t.s sag. Your sagging b.r.e.a.s.t.s aren't bad, either." Then she holds her hand out for me to shake it. "Truce?"

Wait just one itty-bitty second.

"You never told me my b.r.e.a.s.t.s sag!" I say, ignoring her fake truce.

"Not to your face, I didn't," she admits.

I guess I deserved the insult. And I'll keep to myself I've called her Snotty almost since I met her.

We both start laughing hysterically and everybody else is looking at us like we're mashed potatoes. Two mashed potato cousins.

"Can we go for a walk?" she asks.

"Sure."

We exit the hotel and start walking aimlessly in the parking lot.

I kick a rock down the road as I walk. "I didn't want to come to Israel this summer,"

I say. "And I didn't want to like anyone here."

She kicks the same rock, continuing its journey down the road. "And I was shocked Ron had a secret daughter. I guess in some way I was jealous of you."

Me? A secret daughter? Being thought of as a secret sure beats being thought of as illegitimate. "Believe me, you have nothing to be jealous about. At least you have parents who love each other."

"But Ron has the best job ever. You must be so proud of him."

Okay, so you're probably wondering what Ron does for a living. All I know is he's in the security business.

"It's no big deal," I say. After all, everybody's in the security business these days.

Osnat pulls my shoulder back and stops me from walking. "Are you kidding?" she says. "My mom told me he's been hired as a consultant to the Director of Homeland Security in the U.S."

What? I didn't know that. I guess I never even asked him. I've been too busy being p.i.s.sed off at him for not being Superdad.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't talk about it much."

"He probably can't because it's cla.s.sified."

I'm having a hard time thinking of Ron as a super-security consultant hired by the U.S. government. After all, I'm used to thinking of him as the Sperm Donor.

Osnat turns to me and says, "You didn't know what he did until I told you, right?"

"I wouldn't be called a daddy's girl, if that's what you mean," I say. "In fact, I'm not close to anyone in my family. My mom's kind of in her own world and Ron isn't exactly the best father. I don't even have a cousin who likes me. Well, besides your brother, but he can't even speak English. If he did he probably wouldn't like me, either."

"You aren't exactly the funnest person around," Osnat says.

"Are you kidding? I have a lot to offer,"

I say. "For example, I can show you how to put on makeup so it won't look overdone and won't smear. I'm a whiz when it comes to hairstyles, I can even French braid hair. And I can beat most people I know in tennis. What have you got to offer?" I ask, putting my hands on my hips as I wait for an answer.

"I can ride a horse bareback and I'm really good at dancing. And I'm a great person once you get to know me," she says, absolutely certain she's won me over.

I can imagine riding a horse bareback isn't much different from riding in that Jeep on the rocks, but it does have merit.

"And?"

"And I can tell you Avi has changed since he met you. He smiles now . . .

something rare since his brother died. I guess I don't mind you've gotten together since you make him happy."

We hug and I feel lucky to have a cousin who can ride bareback. And to be a friend, too.

29.

The threat of taking something away makes us appreciate it more.

Two days later, all seven of us are back in the Jeep heading back to the moshav. I'm anxious to see Ron and tell him I want a fresh start.

We all enter Osnat's house and it seems like the whole neighborhood is crowded inside. And they all have their eyes glued to the television screen. I see my little curlyhead cousin Matan and Doda Yucky. I don't see Ron or Uncle Chime.

The mood is definitely somber.

"What's going on?" I ask. I can't understand the newscaster who is obviously covering a very important story.

The house erupts with Hebrew, everyone explaining to Osnat, Ofra, Avi, Doo-Doo, O'dead, and Moron what they're so upset about. Except I don't understand any of it.

"There's been a bombing," Avi explains to me after listening to the others. "In Tel Aviv."

"Where's my dad?" I ask in a panic.

"Where's Ron?" I need him now more than ever.

Avi pulls me into an embrace. "Amy, it'll be fine."