To Die For by Joyce Maynard Read Free Book Online Page B

America,” he said. “Maybe the universe.” Poor jerk meant it too.
    And like I said, a lot of people laughed hearing him talk that way to the camera. Maybe Suzanne did too, I don’t know. But I figure he made enough of an impression, because who do I see the very next weekend, dancing over at Shooters? Suzanne and Larry. And he’s looking at her like he’s hypnotized. Which I guess he was.
    After a month or so, I guess she told him they were getting too serious, she still wanted to date other people. I’d run into Larry at the gym, and he’d be by himself, just mooning around. This was a guy that was ready to party seven days a week, and now he’s talking about saving up to make a down payment on a condo. He tells me, “Sooner or later, Chuck, you got to grow up and think about your future.” And it’s looking like his future is Suzanne, he says.
    He buys her a dog—a puppy, don’t ask me what kind. Alls I know is, the goddam mutt never shuts up. She names it Walter, after Walter Cronkite. She had a thing about anchormen she told me. Get this: anchormen and heavy metal stars. “One thing I know,” he says. “If Peter Jennings or David Lee Roth ever called up Suzanne and asked her to meet them at their hotel or someplace, she’d be out of here.” Well, my girlfriend’s pretty crazy about Axl Rose. But I don’t know. You like to think you can count on a person. To hang around.
    Anyways. Come April, maybe, Jeannie and me cook up this plan of driving down to Florida. Don’t laugh, but Jeannie wants to see Disney World. Larry hears about it and says how about if him and Suzanne come along, they both got vacations coming. So the four of us take off for Orlando, drive all night, make the trip in two days, that’s how crazy we were.
    Most of that trip we took to Florida is kind of a blur. We worked our way through a lot of six-packs on that trip. All except Larry, actually. Who was never that big of a drinker.
    Suzanne on the other hand. She was a real maniac on the trip. I’d never seen her like that before—and never did again, I can tell you. From the minute we left town and hit the highway, it was like she was let out of jail. She wanted to play this Aerosmith tape over and over, super loud. Every other word out of her mouth was fuck. Fucking drivers, fucking traffic, fucking New York Thruway. In the middle of the night one time, somewhere in Pennsylvania, she actually mooned a toll booth operator. You wondered if she was on drugs only she wasn’t. Larry hated that stuff. Even grass.
    He was so much in love with Suzanne though, I don’t think he cared how dumb she was acting. He just kept trying to kiss her, make out with her. We took turns but mostly they sat in the front seat on account of he was in the best shape for driving. One time she actually had her face in his lap, if you know what I mean, while he was in real bad traffic. You could tell he was embarrassed. “Not now, Susie,” he’d say to her. “Wait till the motel.” She just laughed. Come to think of it, that trip was about the only time I ever heard her laugh.
    Once we get there, we do the whole bit. Ride those little boats where they keep singing “It’s a Small World.” The teacups, the pirate ships, this 3D Michael Jackson movie they got. Suzanne gets her picture taken with Mickey Mouse. Larry buys one of these Goofy hats with the ears flopping down. Suzanne kids him about it, but you can also tell she doesn’t like it. She keeps trying to get him to take off the damn hat. He doesn’t want to. “You look stupid,” she says. “You look like a nerd.” He takes off the hat. But right then I remember thinking it was like we’re back in third grade and he’s this little boy again.
    We stayed at this nice hotel, the four of us. Larry was making real good money at the restaurant at this point, so he said, It’s on me. Room service, Jacuzzi, cable in the room. The works. Sirloin steak for dinner. Banana daiquiris like they’re