When Justin Bock rolled out of bed on the first day of the three day Labor Day weekend, he felt queasy. Trying not to think about it, he dodged around the white fluffy mound of Tom, the Great Pyrenees dog sleeping in the hallway, and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

“Blort,” he said into the toilet bowl, throwing up a mouthful of vile tasting liquid.

After rinsing his mouth out twice, once with water and once with mouthwash Justin felt immediately better. He didn't think any more about it, though he wasn't particularly hungry at breakfast.

"Just toast and peanut butter?" his dad asked.

"And juice and a banana," Justin pointed out.

His father shrugged. Ever since his wife and daughter had died in the accident and left him with the raising of a teenage son, Harold Bock had felt inadequate much of the time. Perhaps his confinement to a wheelchair added to his feelings; it certainly didn't help.

Justin couldn't stand it when his dad looked at him with those worried eyes so he hurried off to meet his friends who had planned an early morning trip to the mall to see the newest crop of movies. "No," he told Tom, the dog, as the big animal attempted to follow him out the back door. "See you tonight, Dad."

"See you," Harold said. He put down his coffee and stopped himself from telling his son to be good or to be careful or some other parental inanity. Justin disappeared and Harold watched the doorknob rattle as the boy tested to be sure it had locked.

Tom made one of his trademark moans and lay down across the opening to the laundry room, looking very much like a hundred and five pounds of dirty white linen.

"He'll be back in time for dinner," Harold told the dog. He rolled himself over to where he could scratch the yellowish ears that stuck up like pale furry tulips. The club-like white tail thumped twice to show that Tom understood and felt reassured.

Justin walked down the alley behind the green stucco ranch-style he shared with his dad in an older part of Riverside, California. The big outdoor mall where the day's activities were planned was almost two miles away, farther than he wanted to walk on a late summer day, especially since he would be coming back in mid-afternoon.

At fifteen, Justin did not yet have a driver's license nor did most of his friends. Pete Marquez, a year older than everyone else, did have a license and an old Dodge van and everyone would be meeting at Pete's or would be picked up on the way. So, Justin headed through the alleys toward the apartment building near the college where Pete lived.

The sun already felt hot at a few minutes before nine in the morning, it would be a scorcher later. At least the humidity remained low and a blue sky as clear and featureless as a freshly-painted ceiling held no hint of smog.

Justin's anticipation grew with every step. This mall outing would be the first time since the July Fourth weekend that the gang would all be together. In particular, Zoe Clark would be there and Justin could hardly wait. He had a hard time only walking the last block and in fact, did break into a trot when he saw the back gate of the parking lot at Pete's apartment building.

Not quite running, he crossed the lot, took the steps two at once and rapped on the door marked 1D. Pete opened immediately and as soon as Justin saw his face he knew that some sort of bad news had been waiting for him.

Pete didn't make him wait to find out. "How come you don't have a cell phone, Juice? I tried to call."

"I do have a cell phone," said Justin. "I just don't have it on most of the time 'cause it's a pay-as-you-go."

"You shoulda had it on. I can't drive the car for us. I got a ticket and I'm grounded."

"What?" said Justin, not quite believing it.

"Six weeks with no car," said Pete. "I can't drive till we get our first mid-terms out of the way."

"Oh, man!" said Justin.

"Dude," said the third boy in the room, Vincent Richmond.

"Hey, Vince," said Justin.

"Dude," Vince repeated with a different emphasis.

"Yeah, huh?" said Justin.

"I couldn't help it. That cop was waiting for me to turn right. Every other corner in California, it's legal to turn right on red. But not that one," said Pete.

"Didn't see the sign," said Vince.

"Or the cop, apparently," said Justin.

"Dude," said Pete.

The three boys collapsed on the furniture the way only teenagers can.

"How we going to get to the mall?" Justin asked.

Pete shrugged. "I can't go, I told you, I'm grounded."

Vince said a curse word.

"Dude," said Pete. "Don't get your ass kicked out of here. At least you guys can still come over."

Vince shrugged.

Justin felt distressed. "We were gonna meet, uh, meet the girls there. Pick them up on the way, I mean."

"Can't," said Pete. "I already called them, they've made other plans. Carmina and Jenn gonna see some chick flick. They didn't wanna wait so Jenn's father is dropping them off and picking them up."

"What about Zoe?" asked Justin. His throat seemed to tighten up on him and he struggled to talk without squeaking.

"She already bailed. She's too old for you, Juice," said Vince, using the nickname Justin had been unable to escape since second grade.

"She's not," said Justin. "We had a date back in July."

"She's seventeen," Pete said. "She went out with you because her boyfriend was out of town. You know, Ramiro Leon? He's going to RCC." Meaning the local junior college which was almost across the street from Pete's apartment.

"Romeo Leon," said Vince. "They say Zoe likes the size of his dick."

"Dude," said Pete. "My mom is out in the garden, she hears you talking like that, you are outta here."

Vince smirked.

Justin stood suddenly and almost ran toward the bathroom.

"You gonna throw up?" asked Pete, surprised by the look on Justin's face.

Justin made it to the bathroom and got the toilet lid up before he tossed a vile yellow liquid into the bowl. Nothing solid came up but his stomach ached, his eyes burned and tears leaked down his face. He closed the bathroom door, not wanting the guys to see him cry.

He could hear them talking. "Whatsa matter with The Juicebox?" asked Vince.

"I dunno. I think he was really hung up on Zoe."

"Ah, she's a slut," said Vince. "A ballbreaker. When her boyfriend isn't around she flirts with younger guys just to fuck with their heads."

"Dude," said Pete, sounding angry. "I told you to watch your goddam language."

Justin flushed the toilet so he wouldn't hear any more. "But we..." he whispered as the water swirled away.

Justin stayed so long in the bathroom that Pete knocked on the door. "Everything okay in there, Juice?"

"No," said Justin. "Leave me alone."

"Yike," said Pete but he did not knock again.

Justin had cried himself out, he had no more tears. He'd thrown up twice more, eventually bringing up the peanut butter toast and fruit he had eaten for breakfast along with a quantity of a bitter green substance that he imagined tasted like a broken heart.

He stared at himself in the mirror over the small olive green sink. His complexion looked blotchy, the tissue around his eyes swollen. He wore his hair in a block cut just below his ears but at the moment it stood up in all directions. He made an effort to comb his hair using his fingers.

Distantly, he heard Vince and Pete talking.

"I got off grounding with my mom for the trip, however we do it. We got three choices," said Pete. "We take a bus to the mall and try to meet the girls after their movie."

"Fuck a bus," said Vince.

"Or we wait for my brother to get back, he took the van this morning, and maybe we can talk him into taking us somewhere."

"Fuck your brother," said Vince.

"Or we hang around here until Mom tosses us out cause she's tired of your filthy mouth."

"Fuck that," said Vince.

"You lucky you didn't say it, man," said Pete.

"Dude," said Vince. "I like your mom." He paused. "But not that much."

"Cabron," said Pete.

Vince just laughed. After a moment, so did Pete.

#

In the bathroom, Justin closed the toilet seat and sat on it to mope. They make jokes and insult each other then they just laugh. I've never been able to do that. I don't understand how it works. He dabbed at his face with a washcloth he had dampened, hoping he could get the swelling down so he could leave the bathroom without anyone seeing he'd been crying.

I thought I'd finally figured it out. I asked Zoe for a date and we went out and had a lot of fun. I called her a few times after that and she seemed happy to hear from me. He sighed. Then we had a second date cause she asked me and everything was wonderful. We even....

Someone tapped lightly on the door. Surely not Pete, thought Justin.

"Are you still in there, Justin?" Mrs. Marquez asked through the door.

"Yes," he answered.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just got sick at my stomach. Again."

"Again?" Mrs. Marquez sounded concerned.

"I was kind of sick early this morning," Justin explained.

"Do you want to go home?" she asked.

Justin hesitated. But the last thing he wanted was to go to the mall and be the fifth wheel when his two friends met their girlfriends. "I guess so," he said.

"Let me do a few things and I can run you home," said Mrs. Marquez. "If you're feeling ill you don't want to do any walking in this heat."

"Okay," said Justin.

"Five minutes," she said and then she left him alone, again.

#

They all left in the car about ten minutes later. Mrs. Marquez had been persuaded to take Pete and Vince to the mall after dropping Justin off at his house. Vince claimed the front seat of the gray Volvo, next to Mrs. Marquez.

"You always looks so nice, Mrs. Marquez," said Vince. "Even in this heat, how do you do it?"

Mrs. Marquez laughed, she was on to Vince. "I keep young men around to flatter me and build up my ego, does wonders for the complexion," she teased.

Vince showed his dimples. "I'll have to suggest that to my mom."

In the back seat, Pete looked at Justin's pale blotchy face. "I know you're a white kid, Juice, but you look like you been out on a date with a vampire."

Justin shook his head. Zoe's not a vampire, he thought.

"You really sick?" asked Pete.

Justin nodded.

Pete made a cross with his fingers. "Don't give me what you got, man," he said.

Justin looked at Pete, opened his mouth and closed his eyes -- and faked a cough.

"Aggh!" said Pete. "Mama, the Juice is making me sick back here."

"Leave the poor boy alone, Pedro," said Mrs. Marquez.

Walking, it was less than eight blocks between Justin's house and the Marquez apartment. Driving, it was more like twenty because of one-way streets and no useful shortcuts through parking lots and alleys.

#

Mrs. Marquez said something to encourage him as she let him out in front of his house but Justin did not really hear it. He smiled and waved anyway and Pete and Vince called out to him as he turned away.

"See you Tuesday," said Vince.

"Unless you got to see a doctor," said Pete. "Maybe you should."

The Volvo drove away as Justin walked up to the front door of the pale green house where he and his father had lived since the accident. It was all on one level which made it easier for his dad's wheelchair. The old house had been built on a hillside on three levels and had four interior staircases and three on the outside. He had loved that house and had lived in it all his life until his mom and sister died.

The insurance had bought this house after his father got out of the hospital and Justin's aunt and cousins now lived in the bigger, older house. They were paying the mortgage after having refinanced at a lower rate.

When Justin and his cousin Leia both finished college or turned twenty-five, the family would decide what to do with the house, finally. Justin wanted it back, though he had never told anyone this. He wanted to get married and raise a family in the hillside home where he had been a little kid. Leia wanted to be a journalist and travel around the world shooting videos about villagers and crocodiles, so Justin thought it would eventually work out.

Inside the ranchstyle green house, Tom, the Great Pyrenees woofed. He heard and recognized Justin's steps on the walk outside. Justin smiled, feeling a bit better. He opened the door carefully to keep Tom from knocking him down with a patented Giant Poofy Dog welcome. Nothing could prevent a thorough slobbering, though, as Justin squeezed inside. Clouds of dislodged white fur billowed around Tom, the heat outside made the big dog shed enough to build several smaller dogs each week. Time to vacuum the dog again, thought Justin.

"Are you back already?" his father called from inside. "Thought you were going to be gone all day."

Tom bounced on his front paws and made tiny little woofs to express his delight in Justin being home. You couldn't help smiling at a big dog who acted just like a tiny Pomeranian.

"Yeah, I'm back," said Justin. "And you know what? I'm hungry now." He mostly intended to distract his father from asking what had happened, but it was true -- he was hungry, starving in fact. "Have we got any pineapple?" he asked.

On Sunday morning, Justin got up stealthily and tried to conceal his vomiting from his father. It didn't work, the simple layout of the house defeated him; the only bathroom was in between his bedroom and his father's.

"Are you okay, son?" Harold Bock asked.

"Yeah, Dad, I'll live." The nausea had seized him as he lay awake in his bed wondering if he would ever talk to Zoe again, talk to her alone. He'd probably see her at school, though she was a senior and he a sophmore. Their schedules would not naturally intersect that often.

And then he had had to run, stumbling over Tom, the big white dog who insisted on occupying the short hallway that connected the two bedrooms and the bathroom with the rest of the house. Then he had sat on the floor for sometime, waiting out two more waves of intestinal discomfort before he'd finally had to throw up again. And his father asked if he was okay....

"Son," his dad said, "if you keep throwing up like this, we need to take you to the doctor."

"Okay," said Justin and his listless tone worried his father even more. "Tuesday, then, I'll call them first thing. But I don't want to go to Urgent Care on a holiday weekend just for being sick at my stomach."

"Is there anything I could fix for you?"

Justin shook his head but his father couldn't see him with the door closed. "No," he said out loud. "I'll be okay in a bit." He belched, a wind from a sour version of hell, and the taste in his mouth induced shudders. "I'm okay," he quavered.

"Christ," muttered Harold, not a man who normally used bywords. "Bad as his mother," he commented to himself and the dog as he wheeled on through the central interior arch into the dining room. "No, I'm not sick," he continued. "I'll just lie here with a fever of 103, sweating like a horse and throwing up when the wind changes...." He missed Olivia like he missed the use of his legs, constantly and never without the memory of pain and loss.

Tom suddenly got the idea that Harold was going through the kitchen to open the back door. "Urf!" he said, scrambling around the wheelchair and almost upsetting it. He waited at the door, yard-long tail banner waving as Harold tried to maneuver the chair passed him in order to reach the door locks.

"All right, all right," said Harold. "You have an appointment to see a horse about a man, I know." The big dog disappeared out the back door in a bound, leaving behind little whirlpools of white and tan fur. Harold knew he wouldn't fail to come back in for breakfast so he didn't go outside to watch or attach the thirty-foot retractable cable to the dog's collar. No fence could keep in a dog who measured nearly four foot at the shoulder and Great Poofy's are natural wanderers but Tom would never miss a meal.

"No problem with his appetite, at least," said Harold, still talking to himself as he closed the door. "We need to brush him more often in this heat. He does hate it when the boy uses the vacuum." He grinned to think of it.

From the crisper bin he selected a ripe tomato, one of the ones given him by Mrs. Pollard from her garden. No reason in the world to buy cold storage tomatoes from the supermarket in a place like Riverside where some neighbor or another surely grew more than they could eat themselves. He cut the tomato into firm, meaty slices onto a yellow earthenware plate an put it onto the dining room table next to the bowl of apples and bananas. He remembered his wife craving fresh fruit and tomatoes when she had an upset stomach.

Back in the kitchen, he filled a pan with water and a pinch of salt and set it on the stove to boil. Then he spent a couple of minutes searching for the box of Cream of Wheat that he knew he had bought a few weeks ago. Finally finding it behind the popcorn and tortilla chips, he set it out along with a measuring cup and a carton of milk from the refrigerator. He found the brown sugar in the lower cabinet and got down the cinnamon and ginger bottles from the spice rack with the aid of his Ben Franklin grabber.

He measured the hot cereal mix into the water just as it came to a boil and added the proper dollop of milk before turning down the heat. Two slices of whole wheat bread went into the toaster and two of bacon into the microwave as Justin emerged from the back of the house, pushing his damp hair around with a brush. Tom, the dog, rattled the back door at about the same time.

"I'm not very hungry," Justin said but he eyed the fresh tomato slices on their earthenware plate with some interest. Harold had worked for a caterer while going to college and he knew that color and presentation are at least half of the feeling called hunger.

"Milk or apple juice," asked his father, turning the chair to head back to the refrigerator.

"Juice," said the boy who was sometimes called that by his friends.

"I thought we might go to church this morning," said Harold, pouring both of them tall glasses of apple juice.

Justin let Tom, the dog, in the back door and endured a typically enthusiastic greeting. "Um," he said, avoiding getting a nearly foot-wide tongue shoved into his mouth. He opened the kitchen broom closet and used the scoop to take a cup-and-a-half of dry dog food to pour into Tom's bowl.

"I don't think we've been in church since...May," Harold said. He'd almost mentioned Olivia's birthday.

And now Justin knew why the thought of church had come up. In just a few days it would be his sister's birthday. Evie would be thirteen on Thursday if she had not died at age ten. "Okay, Dad," he said. "Can we go to Mom's church?"

Like many Americans of Danish extraction, Harold Bock had been raised Lutheran. Olivia Keaton Natali had been Irish-Italian and Catholic. For much of their married life they had "compromised" by attending an Episcopal church. But after Evie's birth, Olivia had asked to return to the comfort of the church she had been raised in and the family had frequently attended nearby St. Thomas the Apostle.

Harold smiled. "Sure," he said. He too felt the need to reinforce the feeling of having his wife's and daughter's spirits nearby. They both glanced at the clock and relaxed. They had plenty of time to make it to mid-morning mass.

#

Less than three hours later, Justin knelt in the confessional and told the priest what had happened between himself and Zoe. A modern young cleric originally from Argentina, Father Sergio gave the boy a moderately onerous penance and in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, affirmed his forgiveness.

The rest of Sunday passed without much happening. In mid-afternoon, Harold, Justin and Tom had a barbecue in the backyard. Harold had taken coarse-ground, lean burger meat and mixed it with onion soup mix and Worcestershire sauce. One burger had no mix-in, just for Tom, who shouldn't have onions or salt in his diet.

Justin cut up lettuce, spinach and tomatoes for a salad, served with a dressing made of olive oil and garlic-flavored vinegar. The buns were quickly toasted on the fire, too, then slathered with mayo, mustard and ketchup. A handful of potato chips each and a serving of iced tea made a very satisfying meal with cookies for dessert. Tom even got part of one cookie since they were oatmeal with no raisins or chocolate.

Afterward, Harold tuned in to the Dodgers who actually still had a chance to win their division and the whole family relaxed in front of the TV. Tom lay down between their chairs and his tail thumped a few times; he liked his humans close by.

"Don't wave that thing in front of the screen," said Harold. He rolled his chair back to give the big dog more room. Tom scooted over and lay down again, his flagpole tail thumped once more.

"That's better," said Harold, dropping a hand to rub the dog between the ears.

Justin laughed.

Harold sighed. "Those were good burgers, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, but Mom made a better salad."

"Hard to keep everything you need on hand for a good salad with just two of us to eat things up."

"Woof," said Tom.

"You don't eat salad," said Harold.

"Correction," said Justin. "We don't LET him eat salad, not after last time."

The humans laughed and Tom wagged his tail; salad stuff gave him terrible gas but he loved tomatoes.

The phone rang, an ancient landline device with a handset heavy enough to use as a weapon hanging from the kitchen wall. Justin went to answer it, pulling a dining room chair over to sit in.

It was Jenn Stewart. "Hey," she said. "We missed you yesterday."

"Oh, hey," said Justin. "Sorry I didn't feel like going."

"I'm sorry," said Jenn. "I know what Zoe did to you. That was kinda rotten. And then she doesn't show up."

Justin shrugged even though Jenn could not hear that. "No," he said. "I mean I was really feeling kind of sick at my stomach."

"Oh, ha!"

"What?"

"Oh, something funny just occurred to me."

"I could use a laugh," said Justin.

"Well, I almost asked you if your period was late," said Jenn, trying not to giggle.

"Oh, ha," said Justin.

"Yeah, funny but not that funny. So what you doin'?"

"Watching football with my Dad." He glanced at the television. "Uh, no, it's baseball."

"You, watching sports?"

Justin shrugged again. "I know, huh?"

"Who wants to see a bunch of Neanderthals running around carrying a pig under their arms?"

Justin laughed. "That's football."

"You ever thought about the people who must live in the Neanderthal valley right now? What do they call themselves?"

Justin laughed again. "I saw this show that said that Neanderthals actually had bigger brains than we do."

"Yeah, well they were bigger than us, too. Heavier but not as tall."

"They were cold adapted so maybe they used their bigger brains for central heating."

Jenn laughed at that. "They said in health class that your brain burns 20% of all the calories you use, so maybe that would work."

They giggled even more about that.

They talked about the weather, friends, parents, and school, which had just started up again on Wednesday. "Why do they do that?" Justin asked. "We had three days last week and then we'll have only four days this week because of the holiday. It's stupid."

"It's like boiling frogs," said Jenn. "If we get used to it slowly we won't notice how awful high school is."

They giggled again but Justin asked. "What's that mean, boiling frogs? Sounds gross."

"Well, if you dump a frog in boiling water or even just really hot, he'll jump right out and not be that bad hurt, huh?"

"I guess."

"But if you put him in cold water then heat it up slowly, he doesn't notice at first and then...."

"Frog soup. I was right, it is gross. And you're right, high school is like that. Freshman year they take it easy on you but now that we're sophomores they start cutting up the carrots and turnips and dropping them on our heads." They giggled again.

"We really did miss you today, Justin," Jenn said.

"I bet," he said. "Two girls and their boyfriends. You needed me like...like you needed goldfish crackers."

"Huh?"

"For the frog soup!" More giggles.

Justin saw that Harold had picked up a book and wasn't actually paying much attention to the television, but the sound was loud enough that he didn't think his dad could hear what he was saying to Jenn. It wasn't Vin Scully but somebody else doing the pre-game and it didn't hold Harold's interest.

"What are you doing tomorrow, Juice?" Jenn asked. "Carmine and Ell and Shabeez and me, we're going to the sales. Plaza in the morning and Tyler in the afternoon, come back to Plaza for the band, late. Eat lunch at Red Brick maybe. Wanna come along?"

"What for? So you guys can beat up on me? You're all bigger than me and I'll be outnumbered."

"No, cause you're our friend and we all feel bad about...about what Zoe did. We knew she was playing you but we didn't tell you."

Justin didn't say anything.

"Juice? Are you mad at us?"

"No," he said with emphasis. "'Course I'm not mad at you."

"Well then, come on. We'll have some fun. Pete and his dopey friend Vince won't be along to make stupid jokes and we can laugh at whatever...."

"You guys will want to shop for girl stuff."

"And that's why we want you along. You've got better taste than any of us."

Justin laughed and Jenn giggled. "It's true, isn't it?"

"Well, if we can just keep Shabeez from buying anything orange...." They both giggled.

"Okay, then," said Jenn. "Can you be at my house by ten? We can take a bus to Plaza."

"What if it rains?"

"Then we'll go to Tyler first, it's indoors."

"You want to do some serious shopping, huh?"

"I got some money to spend, what else?" She laughed. "Come on Juice, it'll be fun."

"Well, okay," said Justin. "But I won't have any money. Just enough for lunch."

"That's okay, we'll all chip in and buy you something anyway."

"Uh...."

"Something really cute."

"Jenn...."

She laughed. "See you at ten, 'kay?"

"Okay."

"I gotta go, we're having a late dinner. Dad burned the steaks and won't admit it so we have to pretend they are fine."

"Good luck with that," said Justin.

"See ya."

"See ya." He hung up the phone.

Harold turned his head to look at him. "One of the girls?"

Justin frowned. "How'd you know?"

"You laugh different when you're talking to the girls," his father said.

"Woof, woof," said Tom, starting to stand up.

Harold put his book down on the Great Poofy's thick skull. "Stay put. Scully's about to read the line-up." Tom obediently lay back down, balancing the book on his head.

Justin walked back to his seat in the living room. "Dad, I didn't give you back the money I had for yesterday...."

"That's okay, son. You want to use it tomorrow?"

"If that would be okay. Just buy some lunch and bus fare... and maybe a coke."

"You got enough?"

"Oh, yeah."

Harold nodded. "Okay. I guess you're walking over to Jenn's?" She lived closest and near the bus stop on Market.

"Yeah."

"Well, have fun. And don't let the girls buy you a hat this time." Harold chuckled.

Justin laughed. "I won't," he said.

Justin got up early on Monday morning and took Tom for a walk.

The big dog had been thoroughly trained to heel, come and stay or walking him anywhere with a leash would be more like one of those old Western movies where someone gets a foot stuck in a stirrup and is dragged all over the prairie. Two blocks from home, Tom sighted a cat.

 

"Good dog," whispered Justin. "Heel."

Tom quivered, his flagpole tail signaling his interest but he remained by Justin's side. They watched the ginger tom slink across their path fifty yards ahead, then Justin led the dog up and let him sniff the bushes where the cat had disappeared.

Back at the house, Justin had to run for the bathroom while preparing Tom's breakfast of canned dog food with a sprinkling of kibble. Tom sat in the kitchen, confused because his bowl was still on the countertop.

The retching went on long enough for Harold to get dressed and into his chair where he sat in the hall outside of the bathroom, looking concerned. Tom came and sat beside him but it was possible that the dog was thinking of the forgotten breakfast more than about Justin's apparent misery.

Justin straightened up and looked at his dad. "Can you finish feeding Tom?" he said. "The smell of the dog food just got to me."

Harold nodded and Tom woofed because he recognized his name and probably the words, 'dog food.' Dog, man and chair moved to the ktitchen and slurping could shortly be heard.

Justin knelt beside the toilet bowl and mopped his face with a wet cloth. This thing of being sick every morning was getting old.

In the kitchen, Harold let Tom out into the backyard after the dog had polished the food bowl and the floor around it for the third time. Mostly, it was to get the Big Poofy out of the way; Tom took up more room than two humans and his tail was a menace.

Harold put on water to boil to make breakfast rice. That would be enough, since he didn't feel like risking Justin's comfort with the smell of meat cooking. What the heck was going on with the boy, he wondered. Three days of this was too much, in the morning, he resolved, they would see a doctor even if Justin had to miss school.

 

A subdued Justin made his way to Jenn's about a half hour early. In the end, the only thing he'd been able to keep down had been weak tea, very sweet with a bit of ginger in it. Harold had last used such a remedy for nausea for his wife six months before Justin's sister had been born.

The oddest thing possibly was that within ten minutes of throwing up, Justin felt fine. Still not hungry but physically okay. But Harold wasn't the only one worried. Justin imagined that he might have cancer, that something that shouldn't be there was growing in his body.

He'd persuaded his father to let him keep his mall date with the girls just to get his mind off the worry.

Shabeez met him at the door. She lived only two streets over from Jenn and often spent as much time there as at her own home. Shabeez had rosy-brown skin, shiny black hair, light brown eyes that almost looked yellow-green and a curvy figure that, with her height, always made people think she must be older than fifteen.

"I know you're a white kid, Juice," she greeted him, "but you look like chalk. What's wrong?"

Justin shook his head as he passed her in the doorway. Jenn's two cats looked at him warily. Pengo, a tuxedo cat, and Qubit, a calico, had been named by Jenn's father after two antique video games, and the smell of dog on Justin's hands and bare legs made them wary. He had to make friends with them all over again every time he came over.

"Is that Juice?" Jenn's voice came from somewhere inside. "Tell him we've got fruit pops."

Shabeez waved the fruit pop she had been sucking on. "Want one? This is orange-mango, it's delish."

The remembered sensation of orangey-peachy-oily-slimy mango sliding down his throat almost caused Justin to retch -- again. He shook his head quickly.

Jenn came in, carrying two pops. "They're Trader Joe's Smoothie Pops. Pineapple-banana or strawberry-kiwi, you pick," she said to him, holding both out.

"Pineapple," said Justin, relieved that that actually sounded good.

The three sucked and nibbled on frozen fruit juice for a couple of minutes. Jenn pushed unruly red hair away from her face for the umpteenth time before she mentioned. "Shabeez is right, Juice. You look like you don't feel good enough to be doing anything, let alone walking around in the heat at the Plaza."

'Let's go to Tyler first then," said Shabeez. "Ride there in an air-conditioned bus. Shop a bit, eat lunch in the food court --"

"Jody Maroni, mmm," said Jenn.

"Shop some more, get back to the Plaza when it cools off and the band is setting up," finished Shabeez. "But that sausage crap ain't no good for you, girl."

Justin tried not to think about sausages. "They've got a salad place, too," he said.

"Chinese for me," said Shabeez. "Broccoli beef, noodles and an egg roll."

"How is that better than a chicken andouille at Jody Maroni?" asked Jenn.

"It's not sausage, der," said Shabeez.

"Oh, God," said Justin, pushing between them and running for the bathroom. He didn't quite throw up but the pineapple-banana smoothie pop got tossed in the trash -- and a panicked tuxedo cat had to be coaxed down from the drapes.

"You are something else, Juice," said Shabeez. "You going to give all of us a bout of the stomach flu or something."

"I'm okay," said Justin. "Just don't talk about food."

"Huh," she said.

In the living room, Jenn called out to the stranded cat, reaching out a hand. "Purdy Pengo, you can come down, kitty, kitty, kitty. Ow! Okay, stay up there, see if I care."

Carmine and Ell arrived about that time and joined in the efforts to persuade Pengo to give up his death clutch -- each in her own way. "You'd better come down, cat," said Carmine. "Or its curtains for you," she intoned in a sepulchral voice that matched her goth clothes and makeup.

Ell rolled her eyes at the terrible pun, made indescribable kitty noises and simply stretched up and took the cat down -- she was even taller than Shabeez.

"Good thing Juice didn't see your dress hike-up like that, it might have caused his balls to drop. But now I know that you don't really shop at K-Mart despite what the ads say," commented Carmine.

"Oh, shut up, Elvira," said Ell, cuddling the cat. "Who's a pretty pussy?"

"I have," said Carmine. "Oh, wait, I think I misheard what you asked."

Jenn reappeared from the hallway after a conversation with Shabeez. "Guys," she said. "Juice is sick and not feeling too well. He keeps throwing up."

Carmine said, "I hear Zoe screwed him good, maybe he's pregnant."

"Should you even go to the mall, Juice?" asked Jenn.

"Why not?"

"Well, you're, like, puking your guts out, huh?" said Shabeez.

Justin waved a hand. "I'm all better now. It doesn't last that long."

Carmine cracked up and everyone looked at her. "Maybe," she wheezed between laughs, "maybe it is morning sickness?"

 

"Don't be a doof," said Ell. "You sure you feel like going, Juice?"

"Sure," he said. "I don't want to be a mope, this is our last weekend before school really starts and I want to do something."

Shabeez wagged her head sideways. "All right then!" she said.

Juice laughed. "Hey, let's all do that."

"Do what?"

"What Shabeez did," Juice demonstrated and Shabeez did it again. "Instead of shaking our heads up and down for yes, let's go side to side."

"Huh?" Ell looked confused.

"Wouldn't that be, like, no, instead of yes?" asked Jenn.

"No," said Justin. "Or, yes." He grinned. "No is still moving your face left and right, but now yes is wagging your head sideways." He did it again, each movement of his head almost bringing his ears to touch his shoulders and Shabeez and Carmine copied him, grinning.

Ell and Jenn laughed and tried to do it, too.

"Oh, this is wild," said Jenn.

"I read somewhere that in Bulgaria they shake their heads for yes and nod for no, but nobody wags their head," said Ell.

"Try it," said Juice.

"C'mon," said Carmine. "First time doesn't cost anything."

They all laughed.

"We'll get dizzy," said Ell.

"We're teenagers, we're supposed to be dizzy," said Carmine.

"It's fun!" said Shabeez. "Do something different to make grown-ups think we're nuts!"

"We could all dress like Carmine," said Jenn.

Carmine stuck out her tongue.

"Oh!" said Shabeez. "Wag our heads AND stick out our tongues!" she did so, crossing her eyes at the same time.

Justin laughed so hard Ell had to prop him up against a chair because his knees stopped working.

# # #

"Wear the hat we got for you," said Shabeez. "You look so cute!"

Justin looked at the item. It was a high-crowned, white, fake-straw hat with a very pale pink hat band. "That's a girl's hat and the last time I wore it, my dad saw me."

"He's not going to be at the malls today, is he?"

"Uh, no," said Justin. His father seldom went anywhere anymore. Harold had therapy Tuesdays and Fridays when the county van came to pick him up and take him to his appointment. On Wednesdays he went grocery shopping with a ride in the shuttle. Yesterday had been Sunday, the church van had come and got them and taken them home. This was Monday and Justin knew his father had no appointments because it was a holiday.

"Wear it so people don't think you're my tagalong little brother," said Ell, grinning.

Carmine took the hat from Shabeez and plopped it on Justin's head. "I still think it's fuckin' amazing," she said. "One little femmy chapeau and he's one of the girls." She laughed.

"You guys," Justin complained, but he moved so he could see himself in the mirror over the couch. He pulled the hat off and brushed his hair with his fingers until Jenn handed him a pink wide-toothed comb. He fussed with his shaggy dark blond locks until satisfied then put the hat back on, adjusting the angle.

Turning around, he gave the group a perky, middle-school smile. Jenn grinned but the other girls all cracked up.

"You're too good at that," said Carmine.

"You're so cute!" said Shabeez.

"Maybe you could model for a Petites catalog," suggested Ell.

"I'm not that short," protested Justin. "Besides, I am a boy, you know."

"There are a lot more boys doing fashion modeling as girls these days than you'd think," said Ell. "It's not even a big secret anymore. You're slender and you have the eyes for it. Modeling is mostly about the eyes, you know?"

"It is?" said Shabeez.

"And you are that short," said Carmine.

"Uh, huh," said Ell, whose own eyes were big and soft-looking and crayon blue. "Lots of beautiful girls can't make it as models 'cause their eyes are squinty or baggy or too close together or something."

"I knew a guy once whose bag was too close to his dick," said Carmine.

"You did not," said Jenn. "And what the heck would that even mean?"

"You had to see it," said Carmine, smirking.

"Well, you didn't," said Jenn. "Face it, Carmine, you're just as much a virgin as the rest of us."

"I'm not," said Justin.

No one else said anything for a moment.

"That Zoe," complained Shabeez when the silence got too much for her.

Justin chewed on his lip for a moment, took the hat off and put it back on with only a glance at the mirror. "Say something in Italian," he said to Ell.

"Qualcosa, lo pienso," she said. "Che cosa? Che detto?"

"Half of that was Spanish," commented Carmine. "Bad Spanish."

"Italian is sort of like half-bad Spanish," said Shabeez, "at least, that's the way it sounds."

"You sorry you didn't go?" asked Justin.

Ell shrugged. "I'm only fifteen, Dad says I can go when I'm eighteen but not before. But ... If you're going to be a model, you need to start young."

"Like eighteen is over the hill?" said Jenn, rolling her eyes.

Ell winced. "The younger the better...."

"Lot of young girls get taken advantage of, and your dad can't take time off to go with you."

Ell nodded. "He's right, I can go later. If they still want me."

Justin took Ell's hand in both of his and squeezed it. "They will want you, if you still want them," he said.

"Oh!" said Jenn. "We got you something else." She pulled a bag from Claire's out of the buffet drawer and dumped the contents on the table. A charm bracelet with five charms.

"Mmm," said Justin.

"I got you the bat," said Carmine.

"Mine's the heart, it opens up with a star inside," said Shabeez.

"I thought the daisy looked cute," said Jenn.

"Kitten," said Ell.

"Who?"

"Zoe got you the unicorn," said Jenn.

"You gonna wear it?" asked Shabeez. "You gotta wear it."

Jenn fastened the bracelet on Justin's wrist. His smile looked a bit shaky.

Carmine studied his face. "We gonna get your ears pierced."

"Oh, yeah," said Shabeez.

"Just plain studs, nothing embarrassing," said Ell.

Justin shook his head, looking at the bracelet.

"It is pretty," said Jenn.

He nodded.

"Let's go," said Shabeez. "Is anyone getting hungry? Red Brick or Jody Maroni?"

"Red Brick," said Justin. "I want pizza and I'm starving."

"You sure, Juice?" asked Jenn. "You're not going to throw up again?"

"No, I want a Hawaiian Special. I'm like totally empty and pizza sounds so good."

"They put cashews on that at Red Brick, what do cashews have to do with Hawaii?"

"Shouldn't they call it a Canadian, it's got Canadian bacon?"

"It's ham, they just say it's Canadian bacon."

"What's the difference?"

"Pineapple. They call it an Hawaiian because of the pineapple."

"Then they should call it a Mexican. Pineapple is from Mexico," said Carmine.

"It is?" said Shabeez. "Like in a taco?"

They poured out of Jenn's house in a flood of giggles and got to the bus stop on the corner just as the Market-Magnolia bus pulled up. The driver wrestled getting a bike into the front rack while they all found seats.

Carmine plopped down next to Justin. She leaned close to whisper, "Juice, if you're having Zoe's baby, what's the unicorn for?"

They ate lunch at Red Brick Pizza in the outdoor mall. A large Hawaiian special fed the five of them easily, though Justin surprised everyone by eating three pieces.

"Well, I sort of didn't have breakfast," he explained when Jenn commented.

 

Carmine picked the Canadian bacon off the twelfth slice, Justin took the pineapple and Shabeez ate a few of the cashews. "I get it," she said. "Macadamia nuts, the cashews are instead of macadamias which are too expensive."

Ell agreed. "You're probably right, everyone says macadamias taste like cashews. Why else put them on an Hawaiian pizza?"

Justin started on the cashews Shabeez had not eaten. "They are good," he said.

"Jeez, Juice, you tryna get fat?" asked Carmine.

"I've never seen you eat so much," said Jenn.

"Well, I'm hungry," said Justin, prying up a bit of cheese with the last cashew. He popped the now-cold morsel in his mouth and made an apologetic face.

"You can't be a model if you can't control your appetite," said Ell.

"I heard a lot of models 'control their appetite' the way Juice was doing this morning," said Carmine.

"Huh?" said Shabeez.

"By throwing up on purpose," explained Ell. "And that's not healthy."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Justin protested. "I've just been kinda sick the last few days."

Carmine nodded. "Yeah, but only in the morning," she said, smirking.

"Maybe she is pregnant," said Shabeez, staring at him.

Justin frowned but didn't eat the last piece of cheese he had snagged.

* * *

They traipsed the length and width of the Plaza, looking in shop windows and talking about school, television, boys, clothes, parents, movies, shopping, boys, fashion, food, friends and boys.

Ell felt that boys her own age had one great failing, they were all short and had no sense of fashion. Carmine thought that boys at school were dull and boring and that boys who weren't in school were stupid and boring. Also that Ell was math-impaired.

Jenn thought her dad might be planning to ask one of her teachers out on a date. Which would be terrible unless it helped her out in English. Shabeez wanted to buy something, almost anything, but nothing here. Did everyone have enough money to go to the beach, instead? No one admitted to having that much.

Juice thought that all the movies being offered in the theater had either already been seen by someone they knew and gotten bad word-of-mouth or did not look at all interesting. And did getting your ears pierced really hurt bad?

"What did you say?" asked Jenn.

"Nemmine," said Juice.

"Hey," said Ell. "Juice is the only one of us that doesn't have pierced ears!"

"It hurts like a bitch," said Carmine who had five holes in each ear. "Oh, yeah." She made a face and nodded.

"You're supposed to go like this," said Shabeez, wagging her head shoulder to shoulder.

"As if," said Carmine, apparently having forgotten about the earlier plan to wag their heads instead of nodding for yes.

"Oh, yeah!" said Shabeez, her enthusiasm for the idea returning.

"Shall we get Juice's ears pierced?" asked Ell.

"Oh, yeah!" said Shabeez, wagging her head again.

"Sure," said Carmine. "The Juicester's ears can't stay virgin now."

Jenn looked appalled. "Do you even think about what you're going to say before you open your mouth?" she asked Carmine.

"No. Why?" Carmine asked, pretending to be innocent.

"I can't get my ears pierced," said Juice, putting a hand on one of them.

"Why not?" asked Ell. "Even most of the boys at school have pierced ears."

"Pete does, and Vince has one pierced ear," said Carmine.

"Oh, yeah," said Shabeez, still wagging her head and now giggling. "This kinda makes me dizzy."

"Redundant," said Jenn looking at Shabeez.

"Don't you have to get your parents permission to get anything pierced?" said Juice.

"Not earlobes," said Ell.

"My dad got one ear pierced," said Jenn. "He wanted to be more sexy since he just turned thirty-nine. But he thought he might have gotten the wrong one done so he had the other one pierced, too."

Juice blinked. "Which one does he wear something in?"

Carmine said, "The wrong one, probably."

Jenn laughed. "He couldn't figure that out so he wears flesh-colored studs in both ears."

"You could do that," said Ell to Juice. "I mean, when you're not out with us."

"I had a flesh-colored stud once," said Shabeez.

"What color was the rest of him?" asked Carmine.

"No," said Shabeez. "I mean an ear stud, it was all pink or beige or something, like you guys. It looked cute on me but one of my white cousins borrowed it and I never saw it again."

Everyone else laughed, so Shabeez did too, looking a little puzzled.

"It's not your fault," said Carmine, "your mom was blonde, wasn't she?"

"I'm blonde, too, my dad says," said Shabeez. "It just doesn't show 'cause I've got black hair."

They all laughed at that one so hard they had to go sit in the chairs under the umbrellas in the middle of the Plaza.

"Us blondes got to stick together," said Ell, nodding to Juice and Shabeez on either side of her.

"Wanna be an honorary ginger?" Jenn offered to Carmine.

Carmine grinned, "In Spanish, it's all the same, redheads and blondes are both, las gueras. Basically, any color hair that isn't black or dark brown. Real blondes are las rubias."

"I like that better, it sounds like rubies," said Jenn. "Las Rubias. That's the name of our posse."

"No," said Carmine. "Rubies would be los rubis."

"Cool," said Shabeez. "Then we each wear something with a ruby and -- either way!" She wagged her head with enthusiasm.

"That's not right" said Carmine. "But what the heck. I always wanted to be a blonde goth."

* * *

Having exhausted the delights of Riverside Plaza for the moment the five friends boarded an RTA bus for the trip to the Galleria on the southwest edge of town. The bus wasn't crowded on a holiday and they could sit where they liked. Jenn made a point of sitting away from the sunny windows.

"It's hot and I can't take that much sun," she said.

"Hope you wore sunscreen," said Ell, "I got some in my bag if you didn't."

"I did but it wears off. I brought some to put on when we visit the bathroom."

This had been the original reason for buying the girlie hat for Justin earlier in the summer, so he could go to the restroom with the girls and no one would be the wiser. Justin remembered that they had bought him the hat at the July Fourth Carnival, the week before his first date with Zoe.

Shabeez squirmed in her seat. "I wish you hadn't said that, now I gotta go."

Carmine shook a finger at her. "Should of thought of that before we got on the bus, mija," she said in a deepened voice. "Now you'll just have to hold it and not think of fountains or rivers or lakes."

"Shut up," said Shabeez.

Ell shook her head at Carmine and Jenn changed the subject but as soon as the bus pulled up to the Galleria, the whole posse made straight for the restrooms. Ell snagged Juice before he forgot and headed for the wrong one.

After various business had been taken care of, including reapplication of sunscreen, Justin lingered in front of the mirror examining the fit of his hat and looking at his earlobes. Carmine came up to him brandishing a lipstick and said, "Hold still, mija, I want to try this on you."

He held still and followed directions as she applied the lip color and had him blot it on a paper towel. "What do you think?" she asked.

"Too dark," said Ell. "Here, I've got one she can use."

After removing the darker color, Justin let Ell apply the bright, frosted pink color. Everyone admired the effect.

"That's really cute on you," said Jenn.

Justin tried the middle school smile in the mirror and it was a very cute effect, everyone laughed.

"It's too bright for me," said Ell, "for daytime. You can have that one, Juice." She unzipped his belt pack and slipped the silvery tube inside.

"Wait," said Justin.

"Hey," called Shabeez from the door. "They've got free ear piercing at Claire's with purchase of a starter kit. That's like, simple studs and the solution to keep them clean, till it heals," she added for Justin's benefit.

"I dunno," he said.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be a baby," said Carmine.

"You wanna be in the posse, don't you?" asked Shabeez.

"I guarantee it won't hurt at all," said Ell.

Jenn rolled her eyes. "Peer pressure," she said and everyone laughed again.

The lady at Claire's, her name-tag read Diane, held out the tray of starter earrings. "You get to pick two sets and we'll use one of them today. You should leave that set in for at least three days, and it takes up to two weeks for the piercings to completely heal, so, really, it's better to leave them in that long."

"Huh," said Juice, unsure of what to say.

 

"They all have hypo-allergenic stainless steel posts," Diane added.

"Look, they have little gold or silver hearts," said Shabeez.

"There are ones with little ruby-colored gems," said Jenn.

"The pearls are classic," said Ell.

"Two choices," said Carmen. "Which ones you like, Juice?"

"I dunno."

Diane was patient, still holding out the tray. Behind her, the other Claire's lady, Andrea, prepared the pneumatic gun that would shoot the chosen ear stud through the flesh of Justin's lobes. With the straw hat and the touch of lipcolor, Justin easily passed as just another young girl with the two shop ladies.

"These," said Diane, pointing to a pair of silvery studs with a tiny, tiny glint of a gem, "are actual diamond chips."

"Woo," said Ell in a voice that meant she was not impressed.

Juice still hesitated. "What's my dad going to say?" he asked no one in particular.

Shabeez grinned. "Don't tell him."

"Don't you think he's going to notice?"

"Then he has to ask you about them," said Carmine. "And you go? What earrings? I've got ears?" She did a creditable job of imitating Shabeez's wide-eyed, clueless look.

They all laughed.

Jenn reached out and picked the gold-colored studs with the tiny red gems. "Tell him we initiated you into Los Rubá­s. All the boys and girls in the posse are wearing earrings with red stones." She handed the card with the jewelry to Juice who stared at it a moment and handed it on to Diane.

Ell picked a set of studs with simple flat gold disks showing. "For later when you don't want them to be as noticeable," she said.

Behind Diane, Andrea tried the piercing gun, triggering a puff of air like a small explosion. Juice flinched.

* * *

Afterward, they went looking for treats in the food court. Justin nursed a strawberry-banana smoothie and visibly struggled to keep his hands away from his ears. They itched and stung a bit but he'd listened to the care lecture from Andrea at Claire's and didn't intend to get any infected earlobes. But it was hard to remember not to touch them.

The girls were being super-nice to him today, having paid for the earring starter kit and his smoothie. And they'd all bought similar earrings with red gems, though only Shabeez and Jenn had bothered to change out one of the pairs they were already wearing. He appreciated the gesture.

But what was he going to say to his father? And what would the other boys say at school tomorrow?

He didn't know and tried not to worry about those things at the moment.

Jenn had wandered around the corner and come back with a cone from the Dairy Queen instead of a smoothie or shake. She sat beside him at the little round plastic table and nibbled delicately at the ice cream itself instead of licking. "What are you thinking about, Juice?" she asked.

He shook his head. It suddenly occurred to him that he had not thought about Zoe in over an hour and he felt a strange mixture of guilt, relief and anxiety. "I dunno," he said.

Ell sat down at the next table but facing Justin. She sipped at the last dregs of an orange smoothie from a clear plastic cup -- Juice's was less than half gone. "Those guys over there are checking us out," she said.

"Where?" asked Jenn, not looking around.

"Over by the Hawaiian Barbeque," said Ell. "Four of them, they look like they might be juniors or seniors."

Shabeez and Carmine had wandered to the rail of the balcony and were looking down on the lower concourse. They had not heard Ell's comment and seemed to be discussing something they had seen below.

Jenn changed seats so she had the boys in view without being too obvious that she was looking. She suppressed a giggle when she spotted what really looked like an admiring set of young men looking their way. Justin did not look.

The boys wandered over, eventually, and not as if they did it on purpose. Closer, they seemed more likely to be the same age as the girls, high school sophomores. Shabeez and Carmine rejoined the group and much chatter and noise surrounded Justin who continued to study the tile pattern of the food court floor.

"Hey, gorgeous," said one of the boys. Then a finger tipped Justin's face up. Smiling, the boy said, "You're the shy one, huh?"

"That's Tina," said Ell. "We call her Juice, for Justina. She's kinda depressed cause her boyfriend is dating someone else."

"Huh," said the boy. "I'm Clark, Tina. My friends call me Supe, but I've never known why."

Juice looked up. Clark had curly black hair with a forelock, bright blue eyes, handsome squarish features slightly marred by a bit of acne on the chin. Justin smiled.

"Juice and Soup?" said Carmine. "What would they name any kids they had? Appetizer and Entree?"

Shabeez made snorkeling noises into the last dribble of her blueberry smoothie.

"You're devastatingly cute when you smile," said Clark.

"You're cute, too," said Juice. He was, and he had shoulders so very wide.

"I go to Arlington," said Clark.

"Lincoln," said Juice.

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh."

"That's not so far."

Justin shook his head.

"You go to movies?"

"Sure."

Clark took a deep breath.

"They've got a bunch of movies playing right here. Anything you'd like to see?"

Justin looked away. He shrugged.

"Yeah," agreed Clark. "Bunch of turkeys. First week of school, I guess they figure no one wants to go see a movie."

"Best time," said Justin.

"It would be a good time -- except, nothing but stinkeroos."

Juice tried not to laugh.

"We got a three-day holiday and I think the best new thing playing is that George Clooney about the spy who's all sorry for himself -- and that's got like a four on Rotten Tomatoes."

Juice giggled. "That's pretty bad for a George Clooney movie."

"Uh huh," said Clark. "You've already seen Scott Pilgrim?"

Justin nodded.

"Everybody has," said Clark.

"Twice," said Juice.

"It's funny," said Clark.

"Uh-huh," said Justin. "But embarrassing."

"Yeah, well, they got that right about being a kid. Except the part about the ninjas."

Juice giggled again.

"Gosh," said Clark. "I'm out of ideas. Wanna go to the library?"

Justin looked at him and could see he was kidding so he smiled to show he got the joke.

"We could rent something?" suggested Clark. "Watch it at my house."

Justin shook his head.

"Yeah, not on a first date," agreed Clark. "But we have a pool."

Another head shake. First date? Justin's ears itched but he kept his hands around his smoothie cup.

"We have to plan these things a little better," said Clark. "I bet you didn't bring your suit."

Another giggle.

"Next weekend? Saturday? My house? Movies and into the pool. Huh?"

Juice shrugged. He noticed the little ring of lipcolor left on the straw in his smoothie. He had the tube of lipstick in his belt pack but he didn't have a mirror with him.

"The whole gang of us." Clark continued. He looked up and counted. "We'll need to find another guy if all of you come."

"I don't think so," said Justin, wondering if he could gather the girls together and retreat to a restroom.

"What?"

"What?"

"What don't you think?"

"Uh?" said Juice. "I don't think we'll go to your house to swim and watch movies next weekend."

"Why not?" said Clark, putting a little bit of a fake whine on it. When Juice looked up, Clark raised his eyebrows.

Juice giggled.

"How about we all meet here next Saturday, have lunch and decide on a movie then? Or go to my place and try to drown each other?"

Juice shrugged. "Maybe."

"Hey guys?" said Clark to everyone at once. "Let's all meet here before noon next Saturday and like, make a day of it? Movies if there's anything good, huh?"

After some talk about it, there seemed to be a general agreement and a plan was made.

"See you next week, gorgeous Juicy," said Clark, slipping a piece of paper into Justin's hand before the boys all left and the girls finally did retreat to a bathroom.

Justin stared at Clark as he went away. Then he looked at the paper, it was a phone number.

"How come you snagged the best looking one, Juice?" Shabeez asked as they trooped into the tiled room.

"And rich," said Ell. "That's Clark Endicott, Jr., his folks own three car dealerships."

"Like anybody is buying cars these days," said Carmine.

"Still," said Jenn. "Way to go, Juice."

Ell looked at Juice who had paused in front of the mirror. "We got to get you a swimsuit, girl, for next week."

"This is going a bit too far, maybe?" suggested Juice, pulling off the white straw hat.

"Huh?" said Shabeez. "Didn't you like him?"

"Yeah, but...."

"You can't just wait for Zoe to call, hon," said Jenn.

"He likes you, that's obvious," said Ell.

"But what if he...?"

"What if he finds out you've got Zoe's bun in the oven?" said Carmine.

"No," said Juice, putting the hat back on and adjusting it. "What if he finds out -- my name isn't Justina?"

The girls all laughed. "No one's going to tell him and he goes to a different school," Jenn pointed out.

Justin took the lipcolor tube from his belt pack and reapplied pink frosting. Shabeez handed him a tissue to blot with.

"Only one way he could find out, for sure," said Ell. "Just don't let that happen."

Juice blotted and reapplied. "What if Zoe finds out?"

"Fuck Zoe," said Carmine. "Oh, wait, you already did."

"Serve her right for dumping you," said Jenn.

"Clark is better than Zoe, anyway. He's got money to spend on you," said Ell.

"I don't know," said Juice. "Does he really like me?"

Shabeez gave Juice a hug. "Soup would be nuts not to like you," she said. When everyone laughed, she asked, "What did I say?"

It didn't take the girls long to find the perfect swimsuit for Juice.

"I dunno," said Justin.

"But it's great!" said Shabeez. "It's got this crazy pattern, like one of those magic eye posters!"

"What's so great about that?" asked Jenn.

The bandeau-style bodice was made as part of a tank top and the bottom had a panty with a skirt, all in a nearly psychedelic print of violet and navy lines on a white background. Across the breasts, the twisting lines made a fool-the-eye pattern that looked curved and full, even on the hanger.

Shabeez held the suit up next to Juice. "See? If she wears this top, no one can tell how flat-chested she is!"

 

Carmine laughed but the other girls looked to see how Juice would take this.

"I dunno," said Justin.

"And the skirt is perfect, too," Shabeez went on. "No one's going to see anything they ought not see." She widened her eyes to emphasize this point.

"I dunno," said Justin.

"How much is it?" asked Ell.

Shabeez looked at the price tag. Her eyes widened again. She stared at Juice for a moment and said, "You don't want this one," and hurriedly put it back on the rack. "Whose idea was it to come to Nordstrom's to look for suits anyway?"

"Yours," said Carmine.

Ell reached out and flicked the price tag around. "Ché cosa!" she exclaimed. "It's a Robin Piccone."

"I think I like it," said Justin.

Jenn and Carmine checked out the tag too. Jenn blinked and Carmine chuckled.

Justin had a twinkle in his eye as he said, "I've got excellent taste. And I know I like it."

"It's a hundred and forty-four dollars, you goof," said Jenn.

Justin nodded. "I definitely like it now. My taste in clothes is just that good."

Ell snatched the suit back off the rack. "Go try it on," she said.

Justin stared at her.

"It won't hurt to try it on," said Ell. "That's one of the fun things of coming to the mall."

"Go ahead," said Carmine. "We want to see you in it."

"Do any of you have swimsuits that expensive?" Justin asked.

"I do," said Ell. "I got given two on a shoot once."

The other girls shook their heads.

"I dunno," said Justin.

"Oh, go ahead," said Jenn. "I'll go in with you and help you see if it fits."

"Is it the right size?"

"It's a small, that should fit."

"Maybe she needs an extra small."

"Hey, guys, guys?" Carmine pointed.

A sign they had not noticed said, "All swimsuits, 50% off for Labor Day."

"So it's only $72?"

"Still a bunch."

"More than I've ever paid for a swimsuit."

"My Dad would kill me."

"It's gorgeous, though."

"Duh. It's a Robin Piccone."

Jenn stopped them. "We can't all go into the dressing room with Juice, we won't fit."

"Yeah, huh?" Shabeez giggled.

Ell looked thoughtful and wandered away. Shabeez and Carmine headed for the display of pocketbooks on clearance.

Jenn and Juice walked up to the lady at the dressing room desk and showed her the swimsuit and took the small card that said "1" that they were given. "Keep your undies on when trying on swimsuits," the lady warned.

Justin wondered how anyone would know whether such a rule was followed. But then it occurred to him that it was advice, not a rule. Who knew if the last person to try on the swimsuit had followed it?

"Eww," he said under his breath.

"Eww, what?" said Jenn.

"Never mind."

Jenn laughed, perhaps guessing what Justin been thinking.

He followed Jenn inside and down the narrow hall to the big dressing booth on the end.

"I don't know why we're doing this, even at half-price, even with you guys loaning me some money, I can't afford this swimsuit."

"Ell's up to something," said Jenn. "If it fits and you like it, we'll figure out something."

Juice stared at the person in the mirror, pale blue shorts, baggy yellow tank top, white Keds, charm bracelet, ear studs and the little straw hat with the pink ribbon. A cute if skinny teen-age girl with shaggy blonde hair.

"Why am I doing this?" he asked Jenn.

She didn't answer but hung the bathing suit on a hanger. "Are you wearing undies?" she asked.

Justin nodded. "'Course."

Jenn took the hat and hung it on one of the hooks on the back wall.

Justin still stared at his reflection. He took his fingers and fluffed out his hair a bit. "Clark," he said.

"What about him?"

"Who am I trying to fool? Him or me?"

Jenn just shook her head.

"It's just not normal," said Justin.

"Who wants to be just normal?" she asked.

Justin sighed and pulled the tank top off over his head.

Jenn blinked. "What's that for?"

* * *

A few minutes later, Jenn came to the door of the dressing area and asked the lady at the desk if there might be another swimsuit in the same violet-and-navy pattern in a size XS.

Shabeez and Carmine wandered back over. "I said she might need a smaller size," said Shabeez.

"I don't know," said the lady. "The suits are pretty picked over, that's why they're on sale. It's the end of swimsuit season. Even in California."

"Girl's got nothing to hold the suit up, no hips, no tits," said Carmine.

Jenn had a funny look but said nothing.

Ell walked up just then. "I found one," she said. "I thought about it and decided that most of us would wear small so Juice would probably need extra-small." She held out the hanger with the tiny swimsuit on it.

"Oh good," said Jenn. "The other one looked good on her but it was too big."

The desk lady approved the trade and put the larger suit on the returns rack behind her.

"Look at the price tag," said Ell.

"Wow? It's on clearance? For sixty?"

Ell grinned. "I found it in the little girls section. Don't tell Juice. I think someone put it away wrong and then it got marked down."

Jenn nodded and disappeared back inside.

"Teeny, tiny girls need itsy bitsy suits," said Shabeez.

"Teeny tinys give me a pita," said Carmine.

"Huh? Isn't that a kind of bread?" asked Shabeez.

"Watch me get this suit for half of the clearance price," said Ell. "How much money have you guys got left?"

"Twelve dollars," said Carmine. "And I ain't bought myself nothing yet."

"'Bout the same," admitted Shabeez.

"I'll put it on my emergency card and you can pay me back later," said Ell.

"If it fits her," said Shabeez.

"If it fits," agreed Ell.

"Why are we doing this stuff for Juice again?" asked Carmine.

"Because Zoe is a putz," said Shabeez.

Ell blinked. She had traveled more than the other girls and had heard the word in New York where someone explained it to her. "I don't think Zoe can be a putz, she's not equipped."

"Maybe she is," said Carmine. "She sure stuck it to Juice."

"Huh?" said Shabeez.

Juice appeared in the doorway of the dressing rooms entrance wearing the tiny bathing suit, the straw hat and the Keds.

"Wow!" said Shabeez. "You look great!"

"It actually makes you look like you got more shape than a fifth grader," agreed Carmine.

Juice posed, blushed and giggled.

"Okay, we're buying it," said Ell. "Juice needs a swimsuit for her date."

Juice didn't want to take the suit off. "If I pull my shorts over the bottom half, can't I wear it while we're shopping?" he asked.

No one could think of an objection. The suit had been paid for using Ell's credit card and from somewhere Carmine had produce a 15% off coupon. The price totaled less than $30 dollars with tax, reasonable for a nice suit and exceptionally cheap for a Robin Piccone.

"Wow, Juice," said Shabeez. "I can't believe how good you look in that."

"It's the fool the eye swirly stripes," said Carmine. "Makes her look like she has actual tits."

 

Jenn didn't comment and after a moment looking sideways at Juice, Ell asked, "Did you stuff something into the cups on that suit?"

Justin nodded and blushed and all the girls laughed.

"Haven't we all done that?"

"Uh-huh, yeah, girl!"

"I had to stop when I was thirteen, I've got uncles."

"Uncles?" said Juice. "What have uncles got to do with it?"

"Teenage uncles," Carmine explained.

# # #

They adjourned to the food court, again. This time for an actual meal. "Didn't we eat lunch at the plaza," asked Jenn.

"Well, it's almost dinner time and I'm hungry," said Shabeez.

"The Beez has never met a meal she wasn't willing to put behind her," said Carmine.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's saying you have a fat butt," said Juice. Everyone stopped to stare at him.

"It's my... my ethnic heritage," said Shabeez. Everyone started walking again without commenting on Juice's unexpected direct translation.

"Wish I had more derry in my derry-there," said Juice.

"Say what?"

Carmine began giggling.

"Did someone give Juice a shot of juice with a shot of something in it?" asked Ell, looking amused.

"We should go over to Frederick's and get you some padded panties," said Carmine.

"We've spent enough money on the wench, today," said Shabeez. "No offense, hon."

"'Course not," said Juice. He grinned. "Besides I got snarky before you did. And I'm hungry too. I wonder if I could get a slice of pizza, a salad and a coke with eight dollars?"

"Never eat the pizza in a food court," said Ell. "It's always extra greasy."

"Ell's right, and we had much better pizza for lunch."

Juice's lip curled. "But I'm hungry."

"Have some broccoli beef, it's what I'm having," offered Shabeez.

"Or a hot dog," said Jenn, already heading toward Jodie Maroni's.

"You sure you feel like eating again?" asked Ell. "You were tossing up some serious technicolor earlier weren't you?"

"I'm starved," insisted Juice.

Ell waved a hand at the food court, "Eat," she said.

# # #

Later, after all errant fries had been pursued and devoured, the Los Rubá­s posse decided that shopping had played itself out. If they wanted to get back to the Plaza in time to hear the band for awhile before they went home, then they should catch the bus soon.

"Wonder who the band is this week?" asked Shabeez.

"Der," said Jenn. "The posters were all over the Plaza when we had lunch there."

"Oh, yeah. Z-Machine?"

Jenn nodded. "For a local band they're pretty good."

"How come they never have hip-hop bands at the Plaza?" asked Shabeez.

"Think about it," said Ell. "They don't want just young people there and a lot of older people would stay away if someone was playing loud hiphop in the middle of the place."

"The Stowaways are pretty good," said Shabeez.

Juice stuck his finger in his open mouth as if inducing vomiting. This cracked everyone up.

"Seriously?" said Shabeez.

"The Stowaways are one thing good: loud," said Juice.

"I like loud," said Shabeez.

"If this Z-Machine is so good, how come they never play anywhere but Riverside?" asked Carmine.

"They do," said Ell, "but not together. The bass player and drummer are studio musicians in LA, and the lead singer has her own band in Berdoo. I think the guitar and keyboards are in other bands, too."

"How you know this stuff?" asked Juice.

Ell shrugged. "I've got an uncle who does band promotions."

# # #

After their second lunch, everyone took time out to call home and be certain things were all right for another stop at the Plaza to listen to the band.

Justin turned on his cellphone which was normally off so that he would not get too many calls from his friends and use up his pay-as-you-go minutes too quickly. He played with his hat while he talked to his father, Harold, because he was still trying to ignore the itching in his earlobes.

“We’re walking down to the bus stop to catch the bus to the Plaza now,” said Justin.

“Thanks for calling,” said his dad. In the background, Justin heard Tom, the dog, give a friendly woof. Perhaps he heard Justin’s voice through the phone. “I always like to know that you’re all right when you’re out by yourself.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. They had a lot of silent moments in their conversations.

“Did you have enough money?” asked Harold.

“Well, no,” said Justin, laughing. “When does anyone have enough money?”

Harold laughed too. “When will you be home, do you think?”

“Eight or nine, I think for sure,” said Justin. “Maybe earlier but I’m going to stop at Jenn’s first.”

“Okay,” said Harold. “Can you call me from there?”

“Sure.”

“You sound a little odd,” said Harold.

“We’re in the stairwell, near the food court, it’s the quietest place to make a phone call,” said Justin, “but it echoes.”

# # #

On the bus, Jenn plopped into the seat next to Juice. “You didn’t tell them?”

“I haven’t told anyone,” said the boy in the girl’s swimsuit and hat.

“When did this start?”

“About four months ago,” said Juice.

“How have you avoided anyone else finding out?”

Juice shrugged. “I’ve just been careful, school was almost over and no one noticed at first and I didn’t go swimming all summer.”

Jenn was quiet for a moment. Her red hair and Juice’s blond were very close together so no one else could hear their conversation. “Why did you let me find out?”

Juice put his hat over his face for a moment so no one could see his expression. “You’re my best friend,” he said in a tight little voice. “I needed someone else to know.”

Jenn stayed quiet even longer. “Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Juice nodded. “I don’t want to but I probably will have to. Tomorrow.”

Jenn slipped her hand into Juice’s and the two friends sat that way till they got to the Plaza.

# # #

By the time the posse unloaded from the bus and trekked across the hot dusty parking lot, past Trader Joe’s and the bank and the restaurants at the edge of the big outdoor mall, the band had already set up in the middle and were doing a set of 80s songs. The wide paved courtyard in front of the bandstand had people standing around the edges and sitting on the benches to listen.

“I’m flipping into the Twilight Zone,” Shabeez sang along. She stepped out into the empty middle and began to dance. Juice watched a moment, looked from side to side at his friends and followed Shabeez onto the brick-textured concrete tiles. He began to bop in place, widening his movements to include Shabeez as she turned toward him.

“Wanna show’em how it’s done?” Shabeez asked him.

“Sure,” he said. They developed their dance, moving to the music and each other, either mirroring, syncopating or countering the other’s rhythm in a complex, improvised choreography.

The crowd around them thickened and a few other dancers attempted to join in but the show belonged to Shabeez and Juice. Finally, they were joined by an Hispanic boy about their age who could keep up with their increasingly wild innovation and add his own wrinkles.

“Shabeez!” the tall girl shouted, introducing herself.

“Juice!” shouted Justin.

“Bartolo!” shouted the boy. “You girls are good!”

“You, too,” Shabeez responded.

The three continued to dance through the rest of the set and the band made choices that enhanced the action. ZZ Top’s “Cheap Sunglasses” was followed by Wang Chung, the Bangles and Quiet Riot. When the break came the three dancers leaned against one another, smiling and trying to catch their breath.

Jenn came up and gave Juice a hug, almost at arms’ length. “Been awhile since I saw you really turn loose.”

Juice grinned. “Careful, I’m glowing here.”

On the stage, the singer commented to the bass player. “Those girls made the show for us, and the boy wasn’t bad either.”

“Uh huh,” said the bass player. “The little blonde is a natural.”

Juice dozed off on the bus ride, his head lolling sideways on Jenn’s shoulder. She looked at him sleeping and reached a hand out to brush back a lock of hair but stopped. Touching him might wake him up and her expression showed her feeling that he looked so adorable.

She sighed.

 

“Juice and Da Beez done danced themselves out,” said Carmine who had Shabeez dozing on her shoulder. The taller girl had her mouth open and buzzed a faint snore.

“Shh,” said Jenn.

Ell chuckled.

At the bus stop, they all split up, Shabeez and Carmine heading one direction, Ell another, and Juice and Jenn heading for Jenn’s house.

“Tomorrow, at lunch,” said Ell.

“Las Rubá­s,” said Carmine.

They all nodded, smiling and Shabeez did the headwag thing again. “We should make it our posse’s signal, huh?” she said.

“You’re a nut,” said Jenn and Juice laughed but wagged his head, too.

They walked toward Jenn’s house, holding hands again. The afternoon had turned into a bright end-of-summer evening and the heat of the day had begun to fade.

“I’ll have to get home,” said Juice.

Jenn nodded.

“Help my dad with dinner, walk the dog,” Juice added.

“You mean let Tom take you for a drag,” said Jenn.

“Yeah,” Juice laughed. “Mom used to say we needed a saddle for Tom. Evie….” Juice started to add that his sister had tried riding the Great Pyrenees a few times but Tom always got too excited and she fell off. Instead, Juice swallowed a lump in his throat and just smiled, remembering.

Jenn squeezed his hand and said nothing until they got to her door. “You going to leave your stuff here?” she asked as they went into the cool living room.

Juice nodded. “Is that okay?”

“’Course. But what if you went home like that?” She indicated what Juice was wearing, shorts over a girl’s one piece swimsuit, a cute pink straw hat and stud earrings. His makeup wasn't fresh but he still had on lip color.

“Dad saw the hat before,” said Juice. “He didn’t like it.”

“He teased you about it,” agreed Jenn. “But he never said he didn’t like it.”

“I don’t want to make him sad,” said Juice.

“When are you going to tell him about…” she gestured at Juice’s chest where the design of the swimsuit made it look like Juice had breasts.

“I don’t know,” said Juice. “He said we might go to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Telling a doctor might be good,” agreed Jenn.

“About me throwing up,” said Juice.

“Huh,” said Jenn. They wandered into the kitchen where Jenn poured each of them some juice drink. “Does that only happen in the morning?”

“So far,” said Juice.

“Sounds like you’re pregnant,” said Jenn. They both giggled.

“Boys can’t get pregnant, everybody says,” said Juice.

“You don’t look much like a boy at the moment,” said Jenn, grinning.

“I know, huh?” Juice admired himself in the shiny black glass of the microwave door. He posed and laughed.

“I can’t believe how easy it is for you to just become Juice, the girl, instead of Justin, the boy,” said Jenn.

Juice shrugged. “I should call my dad, tell him we got here safe.”

“You want to stay for a while?” Jenn asked handing him the phone.

“Just for a short while,” said Juice. He dialed his home number.

Harold answered. “You at Jenn’s?” he asked.

“Yeah, and we ate at the mall just a couple of hours ago. You okay if I don’t come help you make dinner right away? I’m not hungry.”

“Sure,” said Tom. “I’ll just have soup and a sandwich then and you can make yourself something when you get home. How late you going to be?”

“I dunno, school tomorrow, what time is it going to get dark?”

“We’re still on summer time, so probably about seven-thirty,” said Harold.

“Um,” said Juice. “Is it all right if I stay till nine?”

“Can you get a ride home from Mr. Hanks?”

Juice asked Jenn, she shook her head. “He’s in L.A. With his girlfriend seeing a play or something. But Carrie will be home from work at eight.”

Juice told his father. “I can get a ride from Jenn’s sister.”

“Okay, then,” said Harold. “Have fun, and don’t stay too late.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Juice. He hung up and looked at Jenn. “I can stay until nine if I can get a ride from Carrie.”

Jenn looked thoughtful. “That gives us about three hours, we could watch a movie?”

Juice just looked at her.

Jenn grinned. “You want to come to my room and try stuff on?”

“Could we?”

“Sure, hey, I’ve got some old stuff that would fit you, you could take it home. Didn’t you say your Dad can’t get his chair into your room? Social services came and widened the doors in the house except the one to your room?”

Juice looked disturbed. “I’d… but… well, he could use his crutches….”

“When’s the last time he did that?”

“He hasn’t,” admitted Juice. "Not to get into my room."

Jenn left it at that for the moment, heading down the hallway toward her room at the back of the house. Her father had the big master bedroom with its own bath and she and Carrie each had a smaller room with a shared bath between them. The guest bathroom between the kitchen and laundry room prevented the usual crush of two females and only one bathroom. Carrie was twenty and did not really interact with her little sister much any more.

Juice followed Jenn down the hall, glad that Jenn had stopped pushing on the taking things home bit.

Jenn’s room was typical for a high school girl in Southern California. A long closet covered one wall and another wall was lined with a dresser, a chest of drawers and two bookcases. A window on either side of the bed let in plenty of light, even in the fading evening of September. The fourth wall had posters, a television, more books, and shelves for toys and knick knacks.

The room measured fourteen by twelve, almost twice the size of Juice’s room at home. It had originally been the den but a remodel gave both girls their own bedrooms four years before. Clothing was all neatly put away but Jenn opened one end of the closet and began putting things on the bed.

“Try this stuff one, any of it that fits and you like, it can be yours. Otherwise, I’m just going to have to give it charity.”

“Wow,” said Juice. “None of this fits you anymore?” He stared at the growing pile of jeans, shorts, skirts and tops.

“Doesn’t fit, never fit, or I just don’t want it. I separated this end of the closet for stuff like this last month.”

Juice’s attention was immediately drawn to the dresses. He touched the soft material of one long gown and looked up at Jenn in awe. “Isn’t this what you wore to the Baby Ball?”

Jenn nodded. “Two years ago. I can’t even get it on now, but I bet it would fit you.”

Juice kicked off his shoes, tossed his hat on the bed and stepped out of his shorts, standing there in the bathing suit the girls had bought for him. “I don’t need to take the suit off, do I?” he asked.

“Not for just trying things on,” agreed Jenn. “Let me help you, though, it fastens in the back, ‘course.”

Together they got Juice into the confectionary gown, a soft construction of satin and lace in pale green, pastel yellow and white. It suited Juice’s coloring as well as it had Jenn’s and after fastening the tricky hook and eye closures in the back, Juice stood in front of the mirror. All he needed was a corsage on his wrist and he’d be ready for the next Junior Prom. Except for the pink and purple swimsuit showing through at the bodice that is.

“It’s beautiful,” said Juice looking in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door.

“Looks nice on you,” said Jenn. “You look like you have a real shape in that.”

Juice stared for a moment then burst into tears.

“I said you could have it,” said Jenn, rushing to her friend’s side and trying to comfort him.

“But where could I ever wear it, Jennie,” said Juice. “I couldn’t wear it anywhere!”

Jenn patted him and offered tissue and after a bit kissed him on the forehead. “You are such a girl,” she said fondly.

“I know, huh?” said Juice, wiping his eyes and smiling a bit.

“You have got to tell your dad what is going on with you,” Jenn warned. “He’s going to find out eventually and the sooner he knows, the better things will be.”

“But…” said Juice.

Jenn put a finger to his lips. “No arguing. If you’re going to the doctor tomorrow, tell your dad and the doctor.”

Juice nodded, looking resigned. “I will.”

"It'll be better that way," said Jenn. "I promise it will."

Juice smiled.

"You look great in that gown, you know?"

Juice nodded, still smiling.