Tim, Helen and Jessica go to a surfer party
Tim walked past the cars parked in the driveway, a dusty white Vanagon and a shiny black Volkswagon Jetta. The Jetta had a surf rack on the roof with all of the rods released, sticking up in the air like the tails of excited cats. As he approached the door, he felt the happy but queasy feeling he always got before entering a party. He reached behind his head and adjusted his ponytail, made sure it was straight. He opened the door.
When Tim entered the party, he saw his friends hanging out in a corner of the living room. Willoughby the surfer dude’s house was a typically drab and neglected UCSZ student rental, with flowered linoleum tile in the kitchen and carpet in the rest of the rooms whose color was selected solely to hide stains and nothing else. Three fluorescent green and orange three--fin surfboards leaned against the pale yellow walls, whose only other decorations were faded posters.
Jessica and Helen had their backs to the front door, engrossed in a conversation while Todd held his drink, looking around the party. He seemed about to leave them when he saw Tim approach.
“Hey,” Tim said. “What’s up?”
Todd reached out and they clasped hands with Tim. By his friendly manner, Tim could tell Todd was baked.
“Nada,” Todd said. Full keg.
Tim nodded. He glanced at the back of Helen’s head. She and Jessica were talking in soft voices meant for only each other to hear, and still hadn’t noticed him. He wondered how long it would take. Looking back at Todd, Tim tried to think of a conversation starter and discovered none. He and Todd didn't have much in common, other than a common enjoyment of beer-drinking and Helen's company. Todd had ignored Tim for the first six months that he had gone out with Helen, until he figured out that being friendly to Tim was a painless way of either mollifying Helen or pissing her off. Helen turned her head and did a double take.
“Tim, you’re here,” Helen said. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Wanted to see if you would notice.”
Jessica greeted him while Helen rolled her eyes.
“Get some beer,” Helen said briskly. “Keg’s in the bathtub.” She pointed to the back of the living room, to a dim hallway packed with party-goers.
“Okay,” Tim said. He darted through the crowd, his thin frame an advantage in getting through crowds.
Along the way, he bumped into a tall surfer, who jerked his head around. “Excuse me,” Tim said under his breath, but didn’t wait to hear the surfer’s reply.
Much to Tim’s relief, the line was short at the keg. He recognized Willoughby and another friend of Todd Fox’s, John Wray. Between them and Tim were a pair of giggling girls. They inclined their heads to each other, then stood straighter and looked seriously around the party. Their eyes passed over Tim without stopping. Tim waited without moving closer while Willoughby passed them beers and asked them their names. Karen, one said, the shorter one’s name was obscured by an eruption of electric guitars from the living room, accompanied by staccato drumming. Someone had put on …And Justice For All.
As Willoughby squirted foamy yellow beer into a tilted cup, Tim studied the two girls while their heads were turned in his direction. Both wore greenish-silver eyeliner. Karen had straight glossy blond hair, while her other was a brunette with shorter hair.
Willoughby finished pouring one beer. The girls turned back to he and Willoughby. John was asking them something, but Tim couldn’t hear over “Blackened”. Both girls were wearing tight jeans and Vans. The blonde girl’s nose was a bit too sharp for Tim’s tastes, like a small axe blade glued to her face. The brunette was a bit heavy, but otherwise the more attractive of the pair. Tim imagined himself starting a conversation with them, but didn’t want to while Willoughby was there, and he couldn’t imagine them being interested in anything he had to say about De La Soul, Goethe or the Oakland As.
Karen was more conventionally pretty, but her friend attracted Tim more. Finally, the girls left and the keg was free. Tim approached, made a token gesture of greeting to Willoughby which was ignored as he tracked the girls’ progress into the living room.
Once Willoughby was gone, Tim grabbed a cup and caught John Wray’s eye. “Tim, right?” John said, recognizing him, which Tim wasn’t sure he would.
“Yeah. Helen’s friend.”
“Right, right. Cool, dude. Glad you could make it.”
As Tim continued to pour foamy beer into his cup, they talked about what they were doing that summer. Tim told John about his job, asked him if he was working.
“No, man,” John replied. “Tried looking but found zilch I could deal with. So I’m just catching the waves each morning, watchin’ TV.”
Some of Todd Fox’s friends were rich–richer than anyone Tim hung out with. He raised his cup to John and took his leave.
As he walked back to his friends, Tim tasted his beer and tried to figure out if it's Old Milwaukee or Milwaukee's Best. The music was louder in the living room, loud enough that Tim had difficulty picking out individual words in the conversations he was passing. When Helen and Jessica looked his way, he banged his head and held up his right hand, index and pinky fingers extended. Roxy, Jessica and Helen all laughed.
“This is Metallica, right?” Helen asked.
“Metallica …And Justice For All,” Tim said in a deep announcer voice.
“Remember when we studied to this?” Helen asked Tim. He nodded, remembering that night well, how proud he had been that of all the things Helen could have been doing on Saturday night, she had chosen to spend it with him. He stepped closer to her so he could hear better. Todd, whose head had been turned away from them while Tim approached, now returned his attention to them and moved closer to Helen as well.
“You studied to this?” Jessica asked, raising her voice so she could be heard.
“It was ridiculous,” Helen said. “It was a Saturday night, and I had to finish my Philosophy paper, since I had to work on Sunday. I had to go some place where no one could find me, so I went up to Tim’s place at Kane-King. We were really burnt, though, so Tim cranked Metallica to keep us awake.”
“How could you possibly study to something that loud and… violent?” Jessica asked.
“I got an excellent on my paper,” Tim said.
“And I did well, too. So maybe Metallica is good for studying,” Helen said. Roxy shook her head and drank more beer.
Todd put his arm around Helen, and Helen gave him a kiss on the cheek, just in case Tim had forgotten where her affections truly lay.
Helen turned to Todd and said “Todd, would you be a doll and get me a beer?”
Todd pursed his lips and looked back and forth between Helen, Jessica and Roxy. Tim was considering offering to go in Todd’s place, but before he could decide whether or not he really wanted to endure the crush at the keg, Todd shrugged and said, “Sure. Back in a sec.”
Todd retreated to the back of the house and everyone looked at Helen, who was still watching Todd as he disappeared into the hall that led to the bathroom and bedrooms.
“So what’s your summer project, Tim” Helen asked.
“Get laid,” Tim said impulsively. “No I’m just joking. Fall in love. Or just get laid.”
“Why joking?” Helen said. “Sounds like a good project to me.”
Tim wondered how much help Helen would be willing to give him if she thought it was a good project, but he was sure that it wouldn’t be what he wanted.
“We’ll see what happens,” Tim said. “I just want to enjoy myself. And write. I’m taking a creative writing class. I want to write something really good. That’s my summer project.”
“Cool,” Helen said. “But I still think you should get laid.”
“Or at least find someone to date,” Jessica said, shooting Helen a look. Helen wriggled her lips and giggled into her beer cup.
“Know anyone where you work?” he asked Helen.
“There’s no one at Sunshine Records you would be interested in,” Helen said.
“There’s a few women at Pizza My Love,” Jessica said, “but...”
“But what?”
“I’m not sure they’re your type. Or that you’re their type,” Jessica said slowly.
“Well, how do you know?” Tim said.
“What she’s trying to say, Tim, is that you don’t quite qualify for their... different tastes,” Helen said.
“Uh huh,” Tim said. Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean he couldn’t learn. He was eager to be corrupted.
“Like, for example, your gender is completely wrong,” Helen continued.
“Oh, I see,” Tim said. He let out his breath and took another big swallow of beer.
“But I’ll check around,” Jessica said. “Anyway, we’re all having celibate summer. Except for Helen.”
“You don’t have to be,” Helen said to Jessica, and poked her in the ribs. Tim remembered Jessica’s dinner plans, and wondered how they had gone. He saw no sign of Ellery at the party, and felt relieved.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessica said primly, but she smiled to herself.
“I wish I were celibate,” Helen said.
“No, you don’t,” Roxy said. “What a crock.”
“I do, too. You don’t have to spend time with Todd. I woke up this morning and realized I didn’t really want to be Todd’s girlfriend any more–his chest is too hairy.”
“That’s funny. I had the same feeling about Torrance. But I feel that way every morning when we’re together. Todd’s really not that bad,” Roxy said.
Tim had to agree with Roxy on that one, though it didn’t do him any good, since he wasn’t really attracted to Roxy. Torrance was a convicted bicycle thief, but not the cute kind from an Italian film, but one who roamed Santa Barbara, stealing his neighbors’ ten-speeds to support his coke habit. Tim couldn’t remember ever even having a conversation with Torrance, but he had heard numerous complaints from Helen and her friends about how he grew marijuana in his closet but never smoked Roxy or her friends out, never brought beer to parties and generally treated Roxy like shit.
“What about at the movie theater?” Helen asked Tim. “There should be buttloads of chicks there.”
Tim smiled at Helen, thinking of April and how she looked when she stretched. He wondered if she was still at Cafe Nightingale, or if she had moved further on into the night.
“Actually, there are.”
“Attractive?”
“One is, very. But she’s kind of young.”
Tim looked at Helen and licked his lips.
“Tim,” Jessica said seriously. “How young?” Jessica asked. Tim saw her eyes fixed on him, eyebrows bent.
“I'm not sure,” Tim said. “Sixteen,” he guessed, letting his eyes wander around the party before landing them back on Jessica. Her eyes were still aimed upwards at his face.
“That could be a problem,” Helen said. “Nothing like a statutory rape conviction to put a crimp in your summer fun.”
“Yes,” Tim said. “That would be unfortunate. I think our host here might have to worry about that, too.”
“Willoughby?” Helen said.
“I was at the keg and I had to wait behind some of his younger acquaintances.”
“Oh, God,” Jessica said.
“Really,” Roxy said.
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Helen said to Tim. “Get some pointers.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not attracted to young girls. Why do think that I am?”
“Oh, you know. Things. Stuff. Mostly what you do and say.”
“Whatever. If I am, I’m completely unsuccessful, so who cares? Tim said. “It’s not like statutory fantasizing is illegal.”
“Well, it may not be illegal,” Roxy said. “But it is kind of skanky.”
“That’s right,” Jessica said. “You’d better watch out, Tim Page.”
“Anyway, Helen said, that’s why you should talk to Willoughby. If you’re going to be obsessed with young girls, you may as well do something about it.”
“I am not obsessed!” Tim said. He felt three sets of female eyes on him, and he turned his eyes away from them, towards the rear of the house. He was actually relieved to see Todd threading his way through the crowd, holding two beers. First he got mocked for being sexually inexperienced, then for trying to find a way to not be. He just couldn’t win.
“Helen,” Jessica said. “Don’t encourage him.”
Todd stopped to talk to someone. A wave of exhaustion passed through Tim and he opened his mouth to yawn. When he opened his eyes, he looked down into his empty beer cup. Beer didn't seem to be perking him up the way it usually did.
“What's up, Tim?” Jessica asked. “You seem tired.”
“I didn't get enough sleep last night,” Tim said.
“It's my fault, Tim, I'm sorry,” Helen said, and laid her hand on Tim's arm. “Todd and I kept him up last night,” Helen said to Jessica and Roxy. “Todd is kind of loud sometimes, she continued to all three of them. And that makes me want to be loud, too.”
“I didn't hear anything,” Jessica said.
“The sex was unusually good, though,” Helen said. “Considering it was Todd. He got baked, but he didn't drink too much. That seems to work better for him.”
Helen smiled to herself, ran her fingers through her hair.
“Quite,” Tim said. “I'll remember that, in case I ever... never mind. So...” he continued, feeling like a change of subject was what this conversation needed, but he couldn’t think of anything, and the syllable just dribbled off into silence. Everyone took a sip of beer and surveyed the party. Jessica’s eyes lit up. Helen and Tim both noticed at the same moment. Helen elbowed Jessica. Tim realized that Ellery had arrived on the scene.
“Ellery’s here,” Helen hissed.
“I know,” Jessica said.
Tim was pleased that Jessica didn’t immediately go over to Ellery and his friends. Unlike Helen, she didn’t base her entire life around a guy. She was loyal to her friends.
“Go talk to him.”
“I know.”
It only took one more elbow and a small shove for Helen to propel Jessica forward over to the small knot of guys who had just entered the party. Feeling like Jessica shouldn’t have to face them alone, Roxy left a moment later.
Out of perversity and irritation, Tim made no effort at conversation now that Jessica and Roxy had left. It was just he, Helen and Todd, a circumstance Tim had found himself in many times in the last year, third wheel on a bicycle bound for hell.
Tim took another sip of beer, which was growing warmer by the minute. He had barely swallowed when a tremendous yawn erupted from his mouth. Why did he feel so tired? Even being kept up by Helen and Todd didn’t excuse his weariness. He was here in Santa Zita, the summer had started, he was at a raging party. He knew he should motivate and go over and talk to Jessica and Roxy, or Helen and Todd, but he didn’t feel like doing earlier. Instead, he just watched and waited.
He could see in his peripheral vision that Helen was trying to catch his eye, but he kept his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, where several of the surfers were gathered around the boards. One of them was running his finger along the edge and speaking authoritatively to the others, holding up his fingers about eighteen inches apart.
Tim head Todd suggest they go out to the backyard, and Helen’s curt refusal, and he hoped that Helen would refuse, and Todd would leave them alone together.
“I’ll stay,” Todd said.
“You don’t have to,” Helen said. “I can take care of myself. I have Tim to protect me.”
Tim smiled to himself, even as he felt the awareness of the double-edged nature of Helen’s statement–a compliment but also an acknowledgement of his subordinate role in her life. But what would she do if he wasn’t around?
As Tim listened to Todd and Helen’s low, angry mutterings, he felt his stomach sink. The sound of conflict always disturbed him. Realizing that his beer was still empty, he caught Helen’s eye and jerked his head towards the rear of the house. Without waiting for her reaction, he darted into the crowd. When he returned from the keg, Todd and Helen’s fight had escalated, since they no longer cared who heard them.
“Helen, I hardly ever see you,” Todd said. “Do we have to fight the whole time?”
“Yes!” came Helen’s emphatic response, snapping her head away from him.
“Fine,” Todd said, and walked away to the group by the surfboards, who greeted him with loud heys and hand-clasps.
Helen peered at Tim, deliberately ignoring Todd as he left the room.
“God, he pisses me off!” Helen said to Tim.
Tim found himself so tired of it all, it was all he could do not to grab Helen and kiss her, tell her of his undying love for her, demand that she break up with Todd once and for all, and never mention him again. How could Helen need him so much, but not want to be his girlfriend? Was there any way he could make her see how crazy she was for not loving him?
Still avoiding Helen’s eyes, Tim thought of some way to communicate his thoughts to Helen without saying it in too obvious a fashion, but he couldn’t think of anything. He merely bit his lip and looked away, banging his head in time to Lars Ulrich’s staccato drumming. He imagined April entering the party at that moment–with all the local teenage girls Willoughby had somehow enticed to the party, why not April?–Tim talking to her, getting to know her better, making her laugh.
“You’re quiet tonight. What’s up?” Helen asked.
Tim finally looked at Helen’s face. Her blue eyes were focused on him, blinking several times. She ran her fingers through her hair, moving it off her forehead.
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”
After the party, he invited her back to his place. Silently, she acquiesced. There was nothing left to say. Back at his place, he took her in his arms, no words were exchanged, and they kissed. Hesitantly, at first, but then they found each other, and it became more passionate. Tim learned so quickly April never guessed it was his first time.
“About what?”
“Nothing,” Tim said. Taking her by the hand, he led her to his bed. Tim realized that his fantasy couldn’t happen that night. Helen was right, he had to get a bed.
“I have some gossip for you,” Helen said, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“I always keep your secrets,” Tim said.
“You do. You’re very trustworthy,” Helen said, lifting her beer cup to him, then to her lips.
“It's my job, the task God assigned me in heaven for this go-round on the great wheel. So what is it?” he asked, hoping that, despite what she had said earlier in the car, that based on the fight she’d just had with him, she was breaking up with Todd Fox.
“Well... I had sex with my manager on Thursday night,” Helen said, and looked at him with eyebrows lifted.
“What?” Tim said, louder than he intended to. His eyes bored in on Helen, searching for a sign that it was a joke. He had seen Helen's manager on Thursday when he stopped by Sunshine Records and bought Passion, and he hadn't seemed like someone Helen would even be friends with. “How did that happen?” he asked, hoping that the answer would somehow involve alien abduction.
“I went to his house to listen to his King Crimson bootlegs, and we... got together,” Helen said. She shrugged as if there was not way she could explain it any better.
“Why are you telling me this?” Tim asked.
“Because I have to tell someone. And I know Roxy and Jessica wouldn’t approve.”
“And I would?”
“The reason I like you, Tim, is that you don’t pass judgment on me.”
“Out loud,” Tim said. Because if he did say what he thought, she would get mad at him, and not want to hang out with him. Then where would his life be?
“Yeah...” Helen said, and looked at Tim as if he were a misbehaving child.
“So you had sex with him on Thursday night?”
“Yeah.”
“And you had sex with Todd last night?”
“Yeah,” Helen said. She stared up at him, and lifted her index finger from the rim of her beer cup.
“Whatever,” Tim said, gazed out at the party around them. He felt no connection to them, like had placed at that party as part of an alien experiment in human behavior.
“I know I shouldn’t, but... it’s summer. It’s my obligatory summer fling.”
“Uh huh,” Tim said. The only way he could deal was pretending that Helen didn’t exist, to stand in the middle of the room and imagine ten-inch steel plating surrounding him, protecting him from the madness of the world, a place created for the sole purpose of driving him insane–he would communicate only by lifting his pinky finger, sending out the same message over and over in Morse code: please kill me.
“Well,” Helen said. “What should I do?”
“What do you mean?” Tim asked.
“I need advice. You’ve always been my confidante. You give me really good advice.”
The only advice that came to Tim’s mind was that she should leave the party with him and drive to his apartment. After which they would undress, he would kiss her tenderly, they would go to bed and she would wrap her legs around him all night long. Except he didn’t have a bed.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Helen asked.
He didn’t even have a bed. Since the world wasn’t real, and only designed to torment him, then why not just laugh? It was all just a huge joke, and nothing really mattered any way. If you didn’t laugh along, then the joke was on you. In any case, you might as well just drink more beer.
“I was smiling?”
“Yes!” Helen said. Her eyes narrowed and her eyes traveled over him. “Are you baked?” she finally asked, and bit her lower lip.
“No.”
To their right, they both saw Jessica reappear from the kitchen, accompanied by Roxy and Ellery. Roxy was between Jessica and Ellery, talking to him.
“Whatever. I’m going to talk to Jess. Coming?”
“No,” Tim shook his head, trying to convey his regrets to Helen, as if he wanted to come but was prevented by some greater, anonymous power.
Helen shrugged and trotted off, leaving Tim alone in the corner of the room. The relentless double-barrel drumming continued, seeming even louder due to the thinning of the crowd. Maybe he should just leave. The party was losing momentum, the way Santa Zita parties always did around midnight. Not getting more epic, the way it should be. But he had no ride, and the thought of riding the bus home alone didn’t fit his vision of how his summer should begin. He would just have to wait it out. He knew, if nothing else, he could count on Helen for a ride, even if she was pissed at him for not being more sympathetic to her plight.
When Tim entered the party, he saw his friends hanging out in a corner of the living room. Willoughby the surfer dude’s house was a typically drab and neglected UCSZ student rental, with flowered linoleum tile in the kitchen and carpet in the rest of the rooms whose color was selected solely to hide stains and nothing else. Three fluorescent green and orange three--fin surfboards leaned against the pale yellow walls, whose only other decorations were faded posters.
Jessica and Helen had their backs to the front door, engrossed in a conversation while Todd held his drink, looking around the party. He seemed about to leave them when he saw Tim approach.
“Hey,” Tim said. “What’s up?”
Todd reached out and they clasped hands with Tim. By his friendly manner, Tim could tell Todd was baked.
“Nada,” Todd said. Full keg.
Tim nodded. He glanced at the back of Helen’s head. She and Jessica were talking in soft voices meant for only each other to hear, and still hadn’t noticed him. He wondered how long it would take. Looking back at Todd, Tim tried to think of a conversation starter and discovered none. He and Todd didn't have much in common, other than a common enjoyment of beer-drinking and Helen's company. Todd had ignored Tim for the first six months that he had gone out with Helen, until he figured out that being friendly to Tim was a painless way of either mollifying Helen or pissing her off. Helen turned her head and did a double take.
“Tim, you’re here,” Helen said. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Wanted to see if you would notice.”
Jessica greeted him while Helen rolled her eyes.
“Get some beer,” Helen said briskly. “Keg’s in the bathtub.” She pointed to the back of the living room, to a dim hallway packed with party-goers.
“Okay,” Tim said. He darted through the crowd, his thin frame an advantage in getting through crowds.
Along the way, he bumped into a tall surfer, who jerked his head around. “Excuse me,” Tim said under his breath, but didn’t wait to hear the surfer’s reply.
Much to Tim’s relief, the line was short at the keg. He recognized Willoughby and another friend of Todd Fox’s, John Wray. Between them and Tim were a pair of giggling girls. They inclined their heads to each other, then stood straighter and looked seriously around the party. Their eyes passed over Tim without stopping. Tim waited without moving closer while Willoughby passed them beers and asked them their names. Karen, one said, the shorter one’s name was obscured by an eruption of electric guitars from the living room, accompanied by staccato drumming. Someone had put on …And Justice For All.
As Willoughby squirted foamy yellow beer into a tilted cup, Tim studied the two girls while their heads were turned in his direction. Both wore greenish-silver eyeliner. Karen had straight glossy blond hair, while her other was a brunette with shorter hair.
Willoughby finished pouring one beer. The girls turned back to he and Willoughby. John was asking them something, but Tim couldn’t hear over “Blackened”. Both girls were wearing tight jeans and Vans. The blonde girl’s nose was a bit too sharp for Tim’s tastes, like a small axe blade glued to her face. The brunette was a bit heavy, but otherwise the more attractive of the pair. Tim imagined himself starting a conversation with them, but didn’t want to while Willoughby was there, and he couldn’t imagine them being interested in anything he had to say about De La Soul, Goethe or the Oakland As.
Karen was more conventionally pretty, but her friend attracted Tim more. Finally, the girls left and the keg was free. Tim approached, made a token gesture of greeting to Willoughby which was ignored as he tracked the girls’ progress into the living room.
Once Willoughby was gone, Tim grabbed a cup and caught John Wray’s eye. “Tim, right?” John said, recognizing him, which Tim wasn’t sure he would.
“Yeah. Helen’s friend.”
“Right, right. Cool, dude. Glad you could make it.”
As Tim continued to pour foamy beer into his cup, they talked about what they were doing that summer. Tim told John about his job, asked him if he was working.
“No, man,” John replied. “Tried looking but found zilch I could deal with. So I’m just catching the waves each morning, watchin’ TV.”
Some of Todd Fox’s friends were rich–richer than anyone Tim hung out with. He raised his cup to John and took his leave.
As he walked back to his friends, Tim tasted his beer and tried to figure out if it's Old Milwaukee or Milwaukee's Best. The music was louder in the living room, loud enough that Tim had difficulty picking out individual words in the conversations he was passing. When Helen and Jessica looked his way, he banged his head and held up his right hand, index and pinky fingers extended. Roxy, Jessica and Helen all laughed.
“This is Metallica, right?” Helen asked.
“Metallica …And Justice For All,” Tim said in a deep announcer voice.
“Remember when we studied to this?” Helen asked Tim. He nodded, remembering that night well, how proud he had been that of all the things Helen could have been doing on Saturday night, she had chosen to spend it with him. He stepped closer to her so he could hear better. Todd, whose head had been turned away from them while Tim approached, now returned his attention to them and moved closer to Helen as well.
“You studied to this?” Jessica asked, raising her voice so she could be heard.
“It was ridiculous,” Helen said. “It was a Saturday night, and I had to finish my Philosophy paper, since I had to work on Sunday. I had to go some place where no one could find me, so I went up to Tim’s place at Kane-King. We were really burnt, though, so Tim cranked Metallica to keep us awake.”
“How could you possibly study to something that loud and… violent?” Jessica asked.
“I got an excellent on my paper,” Tim said.
“And I did well, too. So maybe Metallica is good for studying,” Helen said. Roxy shook her head and drank more beer.
Todd put his arm around Helen, and Helen gave him a kiss on the cheek, just in case Tim had forgotten where her affections truly lay.
Helen turned to Todd and said “Todd, would you be a doll and get me a beer?”
Todd pursed his lips and looked back and forth between Helen, Jessica and Roxy. Tim was considering offering to go in Todd’s place, but before he could decide whether or not he really wanted to endure the crush at the keg, Todd shrugged and said, “Sure. Back in a sec.”
Todd retreated to the back of the house and everyone looked at Helen, who was still watching Todd as he disappeared into the hall that led to the bathroom and bedrooms.
“So what’s your summer project, Tim” Helen asked.
“Get laid,” Tim said impulsively. “No I’m just joking. Fall in love. Or just get laid.”
“Why joking?” Helen said. “Sounds like a good project to me.”
Tim wondered how much help Helen would be willing to give him if she thought it was a good project, but he was sure that it wouldn’t be what he wanted.
“We’ll see what happens,” Tim said. “I just want to enjoy myself. And write. I’m taking a creative writing class. I want to write something really good. That’s my summer project.”
“Cool,” Helen said. “But I still think you should get laid.”
“Or at least find someone to date,” Jessica said, shooting Helen a look. Helen wriggled her lips and giggled into her beer cup.
“Know anyone where you work?” he asked Helen.
“There’s no one at Sunshine Records you would be interested in,” Helen said.
“There’s a few women at Pizza My Love,” Jessica said, “but...”
“But what?”
“I’m not sure they’re your type. Or that you’re their type,” Jessica said slowly.
“Well, how do you know?” Tim said.
“What she’s trying to say, Tim, is that you don’t quite qualify for their... different tastes,” Helen said.
“Uh huh,” Tim said. Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean he couldn’t learn. He was eager to be corrupted.
“Like, for example, your gender is completely wrong,” Helen continued.
“Oh, I see,” Tim said. He let out his breath and took another big swallow of beer.
“But I’ll check around,” Jessica said. “Anyway, we’re all having celibate summer. Except for Helen.”
“You don’t have to be,” Helen said to Jessica, and poked her in the ribs. Tim remembered Jessica’s dinner plans, and wondered how they had gone. He saw no sign of Ellery at the party, and felt relieved.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessica said primly, but she smiled to herself.
“I wish I were celibate,” Helen said.
“No, you don’t,” Roxy said. “What a crock.”
“I do, too. You don’t have to spend time with Todd. I woke up this morning and realized I didn’t really want to be Todd’s girlfriend any more–his chest is too hairy.”
“That’s funny. I had the same feeling about Torrance. But I feel that way every morning when we’re together. Todd’s really not that bad,” Roxy said.
Tim had to agree with Roxy on that one, though it didn’t do him any good, since he wasn’t really attracted to Roxy. Torrance was a convicted bicycle thief, but not the cute kind from an Italian film, but one who roamed Santa Barbara, stealing his neighbors’ ten-speeds to support his coke habit. Tim couldn’t remember ever even having a conversation with Torrance, but he had heard numerous complaints from Helen and her friends about how he grew marijuana in his closet but never smoked Roxy or her friends out, never brought beer to parties and generally treated Roxy like shit.
“What about at the movie theater?” Helen asked Tim. “There should be buttloads of chicks there.”
Tim smiled at Helen, thinking of April and how she looked when she stretched. He wondered if she was still at Cafe Nightingale, or if she had moved further on into the night.
“Actually, there are.”
“Attractive?”
“One is, very. But she’s kind of young.”
Tim looked at Helen and licked his lips.
“Tim,” Jessica said seriously. “How young?” Jessica asked. Tim saw her eyes fixed on him, eyebrows bent.
“I'm not sure,” Tim said. “Sixteen,” he guessed, letting his eyes wander around the party before landing them back on Jessica. Her eyes were still aimed upwards at his face.
“That could be a problem,” Helen said. “Nothing like a statutory rape conviction to put a crimp in your summer fun.”
“Yes,” Tim said. “That would be unfortunate. I think our host here might have to worry about that, too.”
“Willoughby?” Helen said.
“I was at the keg and I had to wait behind some of his younger acquaintances.”
“Oh, God,” Jessica said.
“Really,” Roxy said.
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Helen said to Tim. “Get some pointers.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not attracted to young girls. Why do think that I am?”
“Oh, you know. Things. Stuff. Mostly what you do and say.”
“Whatever. If I am, I’m completely unsuccessful, so who cares? Tim said. “It’s not like statutory fantasizing is illegal.”
“Well, it may not be illegal,” Roxy said. “But it is kind of skanky.”
“That’s right,” Jessica said. “You’d better watch out, Tim Page.”
“Anyway, Helen said, that’s why you should talk to Willoughby. If you’re going to be obsessed with young girls, you may as well do something about it.”
“I am not obsessed!” Tim said. He felt three sets of female eyes on him, and he turned his eyes away from them, towards the rear of the house. He was actually relieved to see Todd threading his way through the crowd, holding two beers. First he got mocked for being sexually inexperienced, then for trying to find a way to not be. He just couldn’t win.
“Helen,” Jessica said. “Don’t encourage him.”
Todd stopped to talk to someone. A wave of exhaustion passed through Tim and he opened his mouth to yawn. When he opened his eyes, he looked down into his empty beer cup. Beer didn't seem to be perking him up the way it usually did.
“What's up, Tim?” Jessica asked. “You seem tired.”
“I didn't get enough sleep last night,” Tim said.
“It's my fault, Tim, I'm sorry,” Helen said, and laid her hand on Tim's arm. “Todd and I kept him up last night,” Helen said to Jessica and Roxy. “Todd is kind of loud sometimes, she continued to all three of them. And that makes me want to be loud, too.”
“I didn't hear anything,” Jessica said.
“The sex was unusually good, though,” Helen said. “Considering it was Todd. He got baked, but he didn't drink too much. That seems to work better for him.”
Helen smiled to herself, ran her fingers through her hair.
“Quite,” Tim said. “I'll remember that, in case I ever... never mind. So...” he continued, feeling like a change of subject was what this conversation needed, but he couldn’t think of anything, and the syllable just dribbled off into silence. Everyone took a sip of beer and surveyed the party. Jessica’s eyes lit up. Helen and Tim both noticed at the same moment. Helen elbowed Jessica. Tim realized that Ellery had arrived on the scene.
“Ellery’s here,” Helen hissed.
“I know,” Jessica said.
Tim was pleased that Jessica didn’t immediately go over to Ellery and his friends. Unlike Helen, she didn’t base her entire life around a guy. She was loyal to her friends.
“Go talk to him.”
“I know.”
It only took one more elbow and a small shove for Helen to propel Jessica forward over to the small knot of guys who had just entered the party. Feeling like Jessica shouldn’t have to face them alone, Roxy left a moment later.
Out of perversity and irritation, Tim made no effort at conversation now that Jessica and Roxy had left. It was just he, Helen and Todd, a circumstance Tim had found himself in many times in the last year, third wheel on a bicycle bound for hell.
Tim took another sip of beer, which was growing warmer by the minute. He had barely swallowed when a tremendous yawn erupted from his mouth. Why did he feel so tired? Even being kept up by Helen and Todd didn’t excuse his weariness. He was here in Santa Zita, the summer had started, he was at a raging party. He knew he should motivate and go over and talk to Jessica and Roxy, or Helen and Todd, but he didn’t feel like doing earlier. Instead, he just watched and waited.
He could see in his peripheral vision that Helen was trying to catch his eye, but he kept his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, where several of the surfers were gathered around the boards. One of them was running his finger along the edge and speaking authoritatively to the others, holding up his fingers about eighteen inches apart.
Tim head Todd suggest they go out to the backyard, and Helen’s curt refusal, and he hoped that Helen would refuse, and Todd would leave them alone together.
“I’ll stay,” Todd said.
“You don’t have to,” Helen said. “I can take care of myself. I have Tim to protect me.”
Tim smiled to himself, even as he felt the awareness of the double-edged nature of Helen’s statement–a compliment but also an acknowledgement of his subordinate role in her life. But what would she do if he wasn’t around?
As Tim listened to Todd and Helen’s low, angry mutterings, he felt his stomach sink. The sound of conflict always disturbed him. Realizing that his beer was still empty, he caught Helen’s eye and jerked his head towards the rear of the house. Without waiting for her reaction, he darted into the crowd. When he returned from the keg, Todd and Helen’s fight had escalated, since they no longer cared who heard them.
“Helen, I hardly ever see you,” Todd said. “Do we have to fight the whole time?”
“Yes!” came Helen’s emphatic response, snapping her head away from him.
“Fine,” Todd said, and walked away to the group by the surfboards, who greeted him with loud heys and hand-clasps.
Helen peered at Tim, deliberately ignoring Todd as he left the room.
“God, he pisses me off!” Helen said to Tim.
Tim found himself so tired of it all, it was all he could do not to grab Helen and kiss her, tell her of his undying love for her, demand that she break up with Todd once and for all, and never mention him again. How could Helen need him so much, but not want to be his girlfriend? Was there any way he could make her see how crazy she was for not loving him?
Still avoiding Helen’s eyes, Tim thought of some way to communicate his thoughts to Helen without saying it in too obvious a fashion, but he couldn’t think of anything. He merely bit his lip and looked away, banging his head in time to Lars Ulrich’s staccato drumming. He imagined April entering the party at that moment–with all the local teenage girls Willoughby had somehow enticed to the party, why not April?–Tim talking to her, getting to know her better, making her laugh.
“You’re quiet tonight. What’s up?” Helen asked.
Tim finally looked at Helen’s face. Her blue eyes were focused on him, blinking several times. She ran her fingers through her hair, moving it off her forehead.
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”
After the party, he invited her back to his place. Silently, she acquiesced. There was nothing left to say. Back at his place, he took her in his arms, no words were exchanged, and they kissed. Hesitantly, at first, but then they found each other, and it became more passionate. Tim learned so quickly April never guessed it was his first time.
“About what?”
“Nothing,” Tim said. Taking her by the hand, he led her to his bed. Tim realized that his fantasy couldn’t happen that night. Helen was right, he had to get a bed.
“I have some gossip for you,” Helen said, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“I always keep your secrets,” Tim said.
“You do. You’re very trustworthy,” Helen said, lifting her beer cup to him, then to her lips.
“It's my job, the task God assigned me in heaven for this go-round on the great wheel. So what is it?” he asked, hoping that, despite what she had said earlier in the car, that based on the fight she’d just had with him, she was breaking up with Todd Fox.
“Well... I had sex with my manager on Thursday night,” Helen said, and looked at him with eyebrows lifted.
“What?” Tim said, louder than he intended to. His eyes bored in on Helen, searching for a sign that it was a joke. He had seen Helen's manager on Thursday when he stopped by Sunshine Records and bought Passion, and he hadn't seemed like someone Helen would even be friends with. “How did that happen?” he asked, hoping that the answer would somehow involve alien abduction.
“I went to his house to listen to his King Crimson bootlegs, and we... got together,” Helen said. She shrugged as if there was not way she could explain it any better.
“Why are you telling me this?” Tim asked.
“Because I have to tell someone. And I know Roxy and Jessica wouldn’t approve.”
“And I would?”
“The reason I like you, Tim, is that you don’t pass judgment on me.”
“Out loud,” Tim said. Because if he did say what he thought, she would get mad at him, and not want to hang out with him. Then where would his life be?
“Yeah...” Helen said, and looked at Tim as if he were a misbehaving child.
“So you had sex with him on Thursday night?”
“Yeah.”
“And you had sex with Todd last night?”
“Yeah,” Helen said. She stared up at him, and lifted her index finger from the rim of her beer cup.
“Whatever,” Tim said, gazed out at the party around them. He felt no connection to them, like had placed at that party as part of an alien experiment in human behavior.
“I know I shouldn’t, but... it’s summer. It’s my obligatory summer fling.”
“Uh huh,” Tim said. The only way he could deal was pretending that Helen didn’t exist, to stand in the middle of the room and imagine ten-inch steel plating surrounding him, protecting him from the madness of the world, a place created for the sole purpose of driving him insane–he would communicate only by lifting his pinky finger, sending out the same message over and over in Morse code: please kill me.
“Well,” Helen said. “What should I do?”
“What do you mean?” Tim asked.
“I need advice. You’ve always been my confidante. You give me really good advice.”
The only advice that came to Tim’s mind was that she should leave the party with him and drive to his apartment. After which they would undress, he would kiss her tenderly, they would go to bed and she would wrap her legs around him all night long. Except he didn’t have a bed.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Helen asked.
He didn’t even have a bed. Since the world wasn’t real, and only designed to torment him, then why not just laugh? It was all just a huge joke, and nothing really mattered any way. If you didn’t laugh along, then the joke was on you. In any case, you might as well just drink more beer.
“I was smiling?”
“Yes!” Helen said. Her eyes narrowed and her eyes traveled over him. “Are you baked?” she finally asked, and bit her lower lip.
“No.”
To their right, they both saw Jessica reappear from the kitchen, accompanied by Roxy and Ellery. Roxy was between Jessica and Ellery, talking to him.
“Whatever. I’m going to talk to Jess. Coming?”
“No,” Tim shook his head, trying to convey his regrets to Helen, as if he wanted to come but was prevented by some greater, anonymous power.
Helen shrugged and trotted off, leaving Tim alone in the corner of the room. The relentless double-barrel drumming continued, seeming even louder due to the thinning of the crowd. Maybe he should just leave. The party was losing momentum, the way Santa Zita parties always did around midnight. Not getting more epic, the way it should be. But he had no ride, and the thought of riding the bus home alone didn’t fit his vision of how his summer should begin. He would just have to wait it out. He knew, if nothing else, he could count on Helen for a ride, even if she was pissed at him for not being more sympathetic to her plight.
Works
Recent Writing
- 1989 A Novel: Tim talks to Jessica at the surfer party
- 1989 A Novel: Tim, Helen and Jessica go to a surfer party
- 1989 A Novel: Tim shows Helen his new apartment, and realizes he has no bed
- 1989 A Novel: Helen drives Tim to his new apartment
- 1989 A Novel: Tim walks back to Holly Street