– Scotch –
One Hundred and Fifty No’s
“You should come party at The Shed this weekend, Ricardo. The band’s playing, then we’re just gonna hang out for a bit.”
She closes her locker with a loud snap and turns back to me with the same smile I’ve coveted for three years already; equal parts mischief, and flirty rejection. Her hair hangs loose over her shoulders, and her eyes shine like it’s the middle of summer and we’re standing in the sun. “No thanks, Turner.”
I step closer, forcing her face to lift to mine or stare at my chest. “I’ll write you a song. Then I’ll sing it in front of everyone so they know you’re mine.”
“People already think we’re together!” She laughs. “The girls are so jealous of me. They’re lining up for your attention, dreaming about the day the hot front-man asks them to prom, yet you continue to ignore them and pester me.”
I step another inch closer and force her back against the lockers. I take a lock of her silky hair in my fingers, and I bring the long strands up to my face. It’s so soft and smells amazing. I look back into her eyes and smile at the smoldering I know I see in them. She isn’t unaffected by me. “So, you acknowledge I’m hot?”
She glares and purses her cherry red lips. I’d die to kiss them. I’m close enough that I could easily do it if I was a less patient man. Soon. Our time is coming, I know it is. “One date, Sammy. One night and you’ll never look at another guy again.”
She tsks lazily and shakes her head. “My folks won’t let me party with you, Turner. Not a chance in hell. You’re best to find a different girl to fall in love with. I’m unavailable.”
“But I love you.” Oh. Yeah. I already told her that. Last Valentine’s Day, in fact. She didn’t say it back, nor did she ask me to be her Valentine, but she’ll always be mine.
I tell her I love her maybe once a week. Any more than that might come across as stalkerish, and I don’t want any harassment cases – so until she’s legitimately mine, I’ll say it when I can get away with it, and I’ll say it every single day under my breath. She doesn’t say it back and she doesn’t believe me, but I’m working on it. “One date, Sammy. I wanna show you a good time. Show you what the rest of your life is gonna be like. I’ll treat you like a queen, I swear.” I flash her what I’m sure is my most charming smile, the one I reserve solely for her. Yet she still shakes her head.
“Do you even know what a poker face is, Turner? What it’s like not to show your hand or wear your heart on your sleeve?”
I lean down closer, too close, but not close enough. “Not as far as you’re concerned. No games, Ricci. This is too important.”
“Geez.” She rolls her eyes and turns away, but I don’t miss the way she looks me up and down. I know she likes me. I know she wants this, but what I don’t know is what’s stopping her. “You’re good. Smooth. And you’re setting me up for a world of disappointment when my future boyfriends aren’t half as suave as you.” She takes a step away. “I’ll see you next week.”
I catch her pinky finger with mine before she escapes. “No, Sammy. Not next week. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be in for my usual.” I bravely lean forward and drop a soft kiss on her cheek. “Sleep tight.”
She rolls her eyes, but she clutches her books to her chest and walks away with a beautiful blush marring her cheeks.
***
I kick down the stand on my bike and walk into my mom and dad’s garage an hour after school. I smile at my best friends and band mates.
Luca laughs arrogantly as he takes a seat at the drum kit he worked three summers to buy. “She turned you down again.” He shakes his head and spins his drumsticks skillfully in his hands. “What’s that, like, the hundredth time in a row?”
He’s actually pretty damn close. I’ve asked Sammy Ricardo out every single Friday for the last three years. Today makes more than a hundred and fifty No’s. But she’s getting less sure about it. I can feel her hesitance.
I watch her walk the halls five days a week with her girlfriends. I see her check me out, and the best part yet, I don’t see her dating anyone else. I made my claim her first day in this place, and so far, no one has challenged it – except her. Until she’s married to someone else, and maybe even after that, she’s mine and I’ll continue to ask her out.
Saturdays, she works at Dixie’s ice-cream parlor, and the guys and I are in there buying what we can afford, and, in my case, tipping even when I can’t afford it.
She’s already my responsibility.
Luc stomps his foot down on the kick drum to get my attention. “Well?”
I shrug. “She said no, but there’s always next week.”
“You know, you could probably just ask another chick,” Marcus suggests as he plugs in the amplifier in the back corner. Marc and Luc are a few years younger than Ang and I, but Marc is essentially my foster brother, and I love him like I love my own family. Luc on the other hand, is like a stray cat. He was just a kid from up the street that smelled my mom’s brownies one day and he never left.
I shake my head in answer. “There are no other chicks, Marc. There’s just Sammy.”
“I just don’t get it,” Luc complains. “There are a million chicks in the world. Why her? Why not Whitney or that chick Sassy? They’re both always panting after you, and they’re hot as shit.”
“So, you can have them.”
He points a single drumstick toward me. “Don’t think I’ll forget you said that. First dibs on Sassy. She’s cute.”
I roll my eyes, but then we all look up as my little sister comes tearing through the garage, giggling like a fool while her long black hair flies behind her and our dog yaps at her feet. She grabs her worn and dented skateboard from the far wall, and kicks a spare toward Kari, Marcus’ ten-year-old sister. “We’re gonna go skate. Do you guys wanna come out with us?”
“I don’t wanna skate,” Kari complains and ignores the board Britt kicked her way. Angelo steps around them, and though he has no siblings of his own, he’s used to ours being under our feet all day long. He moves past and plugs in his electric keyboard, completely unfazed by the tiny cyclones.
Marc takes his bass guitar from the stand and strokes it lovingly. “We’ll come out in a couple hours.” He nods toward me. “This fool already has us running late, so we have to practice a little later, but we’ll come out before dinner.”
Britt pouts. “But that’s forever away.”
Kari shrugs her shoulders and turns back to the door. “I wanna go inside anyway.”
Britt is our wild skater, just like me and our brother Alex and all the other guys, but Kari is quiet as a mouse and prefers to sit in her room and read her Babysitter Club books, or sit outside in the dark and stare at the stars. She’s just inherently gentler than the loud Brittany.
“That’s just too bad,” Luc says. “Scram, kiddies. We got stuff we gotta do. We’ll skate with you later.”
Kari’s eyes slit and her mouth moves into a snarl. “You don’t have to be such a grump, Luca!”
Okay, so she’s mostly gentle, most of the time, but she absolutely never tolerates being spoken down to. Such a sweet innocent looking kid, with her auburn hair, curly and wild, and her billion freckles, sure can hide pockets of psycho.
Luc’s eyes turn soft and apologetic, even as his knees bounce with energy for practice. “I’m sorry, Care Bear, but we gotta do this. We’ll come out later, okay?”
“One hour,” Britt bargains and pops her hip. I smile and grab my guitar, pulling the strap over my head and setting it comfortably on my shoulder. Britt’s in negotiator mode, which means we’re all just about to lose.
“Three hours,” Angelo returns quickly, simply because he likes to spar with her.
“Forty-five minutes.”
He smiles down at her sassy self. “Four hours.”
“Two hours, and if you come out later than that, we’ll spray mom’s perfume all over your backpacks.”
Angelo laughs and sticks his hand out. “You gotta deal.”
Britt spits into her hand then takes his in a tight grip. “Deal. I’ll be waiting.”
She leaves just as quickly as she blew in and Kari wanders out slower behind her, then Angelo wipes his hand on his pants and stands in front of his keyboard. “Your sister is disgusting.”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “She really is. She’s the best. Alright. Let’s get started. We gotta get this done, we gotta put in an hour with the girls, Marc’s gotta work, then we’ll go to The Shed. We got a lot of shit to do, then we’re up early tomorrow to go to Dixies.”
“Dixies?” Luc whines. “You need to get over that girl. Plus, your names totally clash. It’s weird.” He pauses briefly as his eyes flare. “But you can’t have Sassy! I already have dibs.”
“Sassy’s all yours, Luc. I’m all set.”
I tap my foot down on my brand spanking new loop peddle to get us started, then I begin strumming my guitar and I sink into the world of rhythm and magic.
I already wrote a song for Sammy Ricardo; several of them, but despite what she thinks, I do know how to keep my cards a little closer to my chest.