Sharks & Boys by Kristen Tracy Read Free Book Online

thing. Or maybe I should keep thinking.
    But thinking makes me feel like throwing up. In a patch of wet grass, I lie down. I can’t listen to them drink beer and eat pizza all night. Shouldn’t I drive back? A charley horse is starting in my calf. I stand and hop on my right leg, trying to unkink the muscle in my left. Sadly, pumps are not a tight-fitting shoe. I watch the left shoe sail in the direction of the guys. I hunker down in the grass again. My shoe is not in clear view; it’s off to the side, still hidden in the darkness. But it’s so white it looks somewhat radioactive. Somebody drags a chair across the cement patio.
    “Well, boys, I think it’s time we visit Gretchen.”
    The gathering seems happy about this suggestion. More metal chair legs rub across the patio. Cheers and whistles mix with the unpleasant scraping sound.
    “I’ll get more beer,” offers Burr.
    “Who’s going to drive?” asks Sov. “You can’t drink and drive in my dad’s van.”
    I feel a little sorry for Sov and Munny. Sometimes I think Burr uses them. Dale too. Sov and Munny’s dad works as the assistant men’s basketball coach for the University of Vermont. They get free tickets to games and the chance to mingle with the players. Sometimes they share these perks with their friends. It’s pretty obvious that the guys enjoy basking in the cultural cachet that Mr. Paddington’s job extends to them. Sov and Munny aren’t too caught up in it, but Burr, Skate, and Dale love it.
    Sov and Munny don’t care about college sports. Their extracurricular interests are global and fall into two camps: political science and literature. Sov and Munny run this after-school group called the Culture Club, and it attracts all sorts of popular kids: cheerleaders, football players, drama freaks, class officers, the tennis team, stoners, etcetera. They read books. Mainly about philosophy and other cultures, I think. And they also eat foods that represent the philosophical idea or culture that they’re reading about.
    And the Culture Club has some pull. Both Robert Pinsky and George Saunders have written the club letters, declining (due to scheduling conflicts and lack of payment) to come and take part in discussions about their books. Their missives are short, but pretty polite. Sov and Munny got permission to hang the letters in the trophy case. You’d think the Culture Club would be a gathering of losers, but it’s totally the opposite. The month they read Hélène Cixous and ate crepes, I strongly considered going.
    “Seriously, Burr,” Sov says. “No beer in the van. I’m not losing interstate road tripping privileges for you.”
    I wish I had those kinds of privileges.
    “Suit yourself, boys,” adds Skate. “But Gretchen feels better after a few beers.” He laughs. Burr howls like a dog again. Landon joins him. I stick my finger down my throat and pretend to gag myself. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think like a guy. I have way too many brain cells. I pull my finger out of my mouth and wait to hear Wick say that he doesn’t want to visit Gretchen. But Wick isn’t voicing any dissent.
    “I think we should leave the beer here,” says Sov. “If any of it spills in the van, my dad will be able to smell it.”
    Burr laughs. “Relax. We won’t drive with open containers. We’re law abiders.”
    Is he trying to be ironic? They’re drinking underage. I wonder if Sov and Munny will stand their ground. Maybe they’ll act like moral anchors and keep the rest of the guys from becoming reckless idiots. Sov and Munny are the youngest among the twin group. I suspect the main reason they were invited to the party is because their father was willing to lend the guys their fifteen-passenger van. Of course, Sov and Munny didn’t drive; they’re only fifteen. The other five probably took turns, unlike me, who had to be woman enough to do it on her own.
    “More beer for me,” Burr says.
    This sound of his voice makes me shiver.