“Have you talked to Mom about setting up your driver’s test yet?” she asked.
He swallowed and said, “Yeah, she’s still worried that I’m too young, but she said if I do good when we go on the highway this weekend, she’d consider it.”
“Well, that’s cool. You’re gonna do fine,” she said. “You do have the best teacher.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“No problem. I’ll see ya.”
He couldn’t complain about his sister. She’d been taking him out driving behind their parents’ backs since he got his permit. She’d always been super cool to him, minus the slamming door incident, but she’d become even nicer when they’d found out his scoliosis was bad enough to warrant the back brace.
Rocky decided that if he was going to be up this early, so was Axel. He took his bowl and empty bottle of soda to the kitchen and called his cousin.
His aunt answered, said Axel was still asleep, but that she’d wake him. His cousin’s groggy voice came on the line. “Hello.”
“Hey, cuz,” Rocky said. “Meet me out front in, like, fifteen minutes.”
They lived three roads apart.
“Why? Why are you up already?” Axel asked.
“This damn street, man. I can never sleep in except on Sundays. All the bikers must go to church. You gonna be ready?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Want me to grab some quarters?”
They would need to start the morning off at the arcade.
“Yeah,” Rocky said. “I’ll see if I can scrounge some cash for snacks.”
* * *
Axel came down the street in his neon green shorts and Motley Crue t-shirt. His long dirty-blond hair was mussed like he’d just gotten out of bed and didn’t know what the hell a brush was or how to use one.
“Got the quarters?” Rocky asked.
Axel raised the near-full mason jar and shook it, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Whoa, that’s awesome,” Rocky said. “Where the hell’d you find all that?”
“It’s supposed to be my money for England,” he said.
“Man, summer is gonna suck without you here,” Rocky said.
“I told my mom I didn’t want to go,” Axel said. “Told her that I could stay with you guys, but she said no. We’re going as a family. My dad’s parents and family are all there and they can’t wait to see us.”
Knowing his cousin would be gone most of the summer also made the need for Rocky to get his driver’s licence a matter of life and death. At least then he could cruise to the mall or shop the record stores in the Old Port.
“Well, let’s get to it, man,” Rocky said.
* * *
Rocky used the ten dollars he’d made helping his Uncle Arthur rip down an old porch last week on Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, M&Ms, Andy’s Hot Fries, and a six-pack of Orange Crush.
They picked the arcade closest to the beach to start. This one had Ms. Pacman and the brand-new racing game, Out Run. An hour later, they were forced to take a break from Out Run after two Frenchies the size of Andre the Giant and Big John Stud, and greasy as the oil bins at Lisa’s Pier Fries, hovered over them, muttering a bunch of foreign threats.
* * *
“Well, shit,” Axel said. “Should we head to the beach and watch for babes?”
“You read my mind, cuz.”
They found a spot near the crabgrass, sat down and popped open a couple of their orange sodas. This spot gave them full view of the beach and any bouncing beauties that might be strolling around and showing off their assets.
“I’m gonna miss this,” Axel said.
“Yeah, do they even have beaches in England?”
Axel sipped his soda, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “Dude, it’s gonna blow. They don’t have girls like we do. They watch Benny Hill and Doctor Who. I won’t have anything to talk about even if I can find a babe to talk to.”
“You can talk to them about Iron Maiden and Led Zeppelin,” Rocky said.
“Won’t be the same, man. It won’t be the same.”
They watched the beach fill in. By the time the sun was directly overhead, the place was jam-packed with bodies of all shapes and sizes. Young and old, big and bold. Slick and ready to make two perverts such as them drool to dehydration.
“Dude,” Axel said. “Why do the old Canadian men think that it’s cool to wear Speedos?”
“Who cares? Their ladies are just as shameless. I’ll take that trade.”
“Not me, man. It’s gross.” Axel stood. “I’m hungry, dude.”
“I have another packet of M&Ms.”
“No way,” Axel said. “Those are definitely melted.”
Rocky picked them up and could feel that they were indeed ruined.
“You’ve got to at least be thirsty,” Axel said. “We finished the last soda, like, an hour ago.”
Rocky’s mouth felt like it was coated with flour. It’d been a while since they got forced from the arcade’s canvas cover. Now the white-hot sand was cooking them like two eggs. He thought of the anti-dope commercial, ‘This is your brain on drugs,’ and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Axle asked.
“Nothing, man. Let’s go.”
* * *
Crossing from the beach to the square, Rocky nearly tripped, and that’s when she came into view.
“Oh my god,” he said.
“What?”
Rocky’s mind went blank. All his summer plans, his cousin leaving for England, his driver’s test, his back brace, all of it, gone. She had ice cream smeared across her upper lip and wiped it away with the back of her right hand. She was wearing one green high-top Chuck Taylor and one yellow. The guy working the Dairy Queen window was staring at her with his mouth open like a dumb kid trying to catch snowflakes from a winter sky. Two older men, older than his dad, were checking her out from the metal fence that separated the DQ from the train tracks. Rocky’s gaze moved from the multicoloured shoes to the ripped blue jeans, paused at the Twisted Sister logo and the two mounds beneath it, and then froze on her face. She was absolutely gorgeous. Not a crooked angle to be found and eyes that, god knows why, found his. Her lips spread in a smile as she slid the sunglasses from the top of her head down into place. And then she turned and walked away.