The Adventures of Jillian Spectre. Nic Tatano
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know, sparks, fireworks, electricity.”
She hits me with her faux Jewish mother accent, which is pretty spot-on. “You want I should fix you up with an electrical workuh? I know I nice boy in the union looking for a shiksa.”
“Bite me. Will’s fine, but—”
“Hey, we’re seventeen. We’re not looking for Mr Right yet. You don’t have to marry the guy. Have some fun. Ravish the little thing. Take the initiative. How often is a girl who weighs a buck fifteen gonna be able to play amazon?”
“True enough.” I look around the room and don’t see Roxanne’s date. “By the way, speaking of fun, where’s your escort?”
“I gave him his exit visa.”
“What happened?”
“TSTL.”
I decided to give it back to her. “Yeah, but you’re not looking for Mr Right yet. Have some fun. Ravish him.”
“Honey, I aint goin’ to confession for a crash test dummy.”
***
The conversation is a little forced as Will walks me home. Probably because I’m busy thinking of Ryan.
We reach my front door, its thousand watt porch light probably confusing pilots trying to land at JFK. This electronic middle finger at Al Gore is mom’s little reminder that even though she’s in her bedroom upstairs and the living room is free, she knows there might be some cavorting going on involving her daughter and a guy who escaped from Munchkinland. And she could, at any moment, decide she needs to bake an apple pie in the middle of the night and come bounding down the stairs.
“I had a good time tonight,” he says, turning to face me.
“Yeah, me too.” (Fingers crossed behind my back.)
“I want to thank you.”
“Hey, you’re the one who took me out for dinner and dancing. I’m the one who should be appreciative. So thank you, Will.”
“I didn’t mean that. I mean, you know, thank you for not…” His words trail off and he looks to the side.
“For not what?”
Now he stares at the ground, one shoe playing with a pebble, the super confident captain of the wrestling team having disappeared. “I mean, every time I’m on a date the subject comes up. So thanks for not mentioning it.”
Oh, the height thing. Rox told me not to say anything, and I haven’t, even though a slow dance left his face in a rather uncomfortable position for me. But still I play dumb. I reach out with one finger and tilt his chin up. “Will, I had a nice time and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know. It’s the elephant that’s always in the room when I’m on a date.”
Finally frustration gets the best of me. I’m tired of this wheel-of-boys game and landing on lose a turn
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