All The Young Punks Pt. 10

It was the first time he would order booze in a respectable restaurant; so he thought he'd be cool and have a martini, his first. Claire smiled and ordered the same, also her first. Joe got gin, she went for vodka.

"That's not really a martini," he said. "It's got to be gin."

"Whatever, I don't like gin, and how do you know? You've never had one."

"I read about it in Playboy. You'd never see Heff drinking a bastard vodka martini."

Claire laughed. "I suppose you're gonna tell me you get Playboy for the articles."

He smiled. "Of course. It's great writing. What else is there?"

"You're so full of shit."

They scanned the menu, made up their minds, and when martinis arrived they were ready to order. Joe got the veal, she went for the fish special.

"Look how sexy a martini is," he said.

She held up her drink. "Sexy is right, it's the glass."

"Oh, and James Bond, he's not a fucking vodka guy either."

"Whatever," Claire rolled her eyes. "I have something for you." She reached into her clutch. "Give me your hand."

Joe put his hand out. She placed several candy hearts in his palm. He looked at one and then another, and a third. "They all say bite me."

Claire smiled, "I know. It's the funniest one, so I picked them all out for you."

"Okay." He popped two in his mouth. When he took his next sip of gin he made a face. "These do not pair well with a martini."

Joe was nervous, cracking dumb jokes to ease his mind. He wanted to talk about serious stuff, relationship stuff. Joe's realization that he'd rather be with one girl rather than playing the field weighed on him. It had nothing to do with the other girls. He simply wanted more than just flings. Joe wanted a real girlfriend and Claire was the one.

Being with her was the right place to be, comfortable and familiar. She made it clear she wanted to see more of him, but he wasn't sure what that meant. She was surely jealous of other girls around him. Joe saw that as a good sign. He wanted to discuss it, to see where she stood on being exclusive. That could lead to an uncomfortable Valentine's meal if she said, 'no.' He decided to wait for dessert.

"So, you said this place is mobster-owned?" she asked.

"Shhhh," he furrowed his brow. "Do you wanna get us whacked?"

Claire leaned in to whisper. "What's the deal here?"

"See that large booth in the corner? That's the boss' table. Whenever Raymond Patrairca comes in, he sits there. They won't seat anyone in that booth on the odd chance he'll come in."

"That's ridiculous."

"Take it up with the boss. He owns this town."

They sipped their martinis and made small talk. When dinner came they ordered two more cocktails. The conversation shifted comfortably to how the entrees were fantastic. As they got down to the last bites and the bottom of their second martini, she had something to say.

"Thank you for forgiving me. I was having a very hard time over what happened between us. Do you remember when I told you about camp last year... I wanted to take a break because I know a guy there?"

Joe looked up from his plate. "Yes." Then he thought, 'Why is she bringing that up? This can't be good.'

"Kevin and we were fine, we did what we do, but I didn't have a great summer."

"Because of me?"

"Because of me, and what I did to you. I won't bring it up again, but I just wanted to thank you for getting over that and letting me back into your life."

She seemed vulnerable in this moment. Joe figured this was his best chance to pop the question, but he couldn't summon the courage. There was a long silence as they finished their drinks.

"Hey, I have some news," Claire said. "Remember when I told you I might study abroad? Well, I'm accepted. I'll be in France for six weeks this fall. I'm so excited."

"Cool. You'll finally get to use three years of high school French."

Claire smiled. "I know. I've dusted off my books. It's gonna be a busy year. I'll be at camp for eight weeks this summer, start my junior year in September, and then off to Paris in October."

Joe was suddenly thankful he didn't mention what was on his mind, "So, it's the same as last year. We'll take a break this summer?"

"That's our deal, right?"

"Yup," he nodded. "just making sure we're on the same page." Joe stared at his empty cocktail glass. There was another long silence. He had nothing to say.

Claire talked about Paris and how excited she was to be going abroad for the first time. Joe half listened, feeling sorry for himself and what a fool he was believing she might want to be his girl.

"Hey, I know it's a school night, but do you want to hang out in my dorm?"

Joe wasn't feeling great at the moment, but he had a two-martini buzz that impaired his judgment. He began thinking with the other head. "Sure."

Claire asked for the check. There would be no dessert.

----- IT FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME ----

Joe removed his leather, kicked off his shoes, and flopped onto Claire's too-small dormitory bed. She hung her coat in a closet and walked over. If Joe had any doubt about his chances that night, they were erased when Claire unzipped her dress and let it fall, revealing her silky red bra and panties. She kneeled on the bed, over him, and put a gentle kiss on his lips.

Joe ran his fingers along her side, feeling her soft skin, kissing her while his fingers roamed. Claire lowered herself, at his side but also on top of him as the dormitory bed was narrow. She began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you in a button-up shirt," she said.

"This is the shirt I made my Holy Confirmation in. It's the least cool shirt I own."

"Then why did you wear it?"

"Because it's the only proper shirt I own."

Claire laughed, his buttons undone, her fingernails caressing his chest and stomach. She slid them under his denim waistline and leather belt. He was already hard, his swollen head pushing under his boxer-brief waistline. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. Her hand found his head, cupping his knob in her fingers, tickling and teasing. Her lips brushed against his.

Joe made no move to remove her bra or play in her panties. The soft and sensual attention Claire was giving the head of his cock made him forget his duties. He was only eighteen, occasionally clueless. Claire didn't mind, she had her own agenda.

Ninety minutes later, after several choreographed positions leading to rapture, Claire was still half on top of Joe, all hot and sweaty.

"I like this guy," she said while fondling Joe's deflated cock.

"He likes you too."

"You have a nice dick," she kissed him. "But I knew that already."

"How."

Claire rolled her eyes, "I swear you purposely place it so girls can see it."

"That's bullshit. How do I place it? It goes where it goes."

"It just hangs down your thigh, all by itself?"

"Yup. It's lazy like that, just hanging around."

Claire laughed., then paused.... "Your friend Abby talks."

"To whom?"

"She said something to the girls at the garage and... word got around."

"Great."

"They could be saying worse things about you. Are you still hanging out with her?"

"Not much. She has a new boyfriend, some older guy with more time for her."

"You can do better than her. She's kind of a ditzy girl."

"No, she isn't. She's an honor student, straight A's."

"That's not what I mean. She's immature and giggly, and a little awkward."

"You just described half the girls in my school."

"You once told me good conversations are a turn-on for you. You like smart girls. Abby doesn't seem that interesting to me."

"Look at you, all catty, cutting down poor little Abby." Joe made a 'meow' sound, with claws.

"Shut up." she lightly slapped his tummy. "I'm just stating the obvious."

It didn't take much for Claire to persuade Joe to skip school the next day. They fucked again in the morning, went shopping and had a bite at a diner, and fucked in the afternoon. As it was getting close to Joe having to go home, Claire lay on top of him, her nose against his, still breathing heavily after riding him hard to the finish line.

She laughed, "I'm so stupid. I should have fucked you a year ago. I would have gotten over your age real quick."

Claire drove Joe home, dropping him in front of his house. The moment he walked into the kitchen, all hell broke loose.

"Mom, Joey's home!" Jeanie yelled.

"Ssshhh." he held his finger to his lips "Don't be a rat."

Mom came in hot. "Where have you been? I know it wasn't school, because I called. You didn't come home last night and you skipped school today. Where have you been?" Mom leaned in close to get a whiff of Joe. He grabbed her.

"Do you want to dance?" Joe used his young strength to move Mom, turning her 180 degrees and then hugging her from behind. She wiggled in resistance. "Stop. This is no joke."

Jackie walked in, shot Joe one cold-as-ice stare, and went to the fridge to start dinner. She went about her business not saying a word while Mom went on and on about how worried she was, how she called the school and spoke to Miss Murray. Mom was in a mini-panic. Joe remained calm.

He let her talk, offered no explanation or rebuttal to Mom saying he was inconsiderate not calling home leaving her to worry, and scolding him for skipping a full day of school. He simply waited for Alice Marie Theroux to run out of steam. It took a while.

"Well," she said, hands on her hips. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

He smirked. "What's for dinner?"

Jackie guffawed, laughing so hard it made Mom more angry. "Oh," she turned to her oldest daughter, "You think this is funny?"

"Just stop it, Mom!" Jackie stomped her foot down "Just stop! Joe didn't do anything wrong. He's just living his life." She paused, her expression softening, her voice less dramatic. "He doesn't owe you an explanation. You're not his boss, you're his mother."

Joe was taken aback by Jackie putting her foot down... literally. Mom huffed. There was a showdown of eyes. Mom stared at Jackie, then Joe, feeling outnumbered, her hands slipped off her hips. She turned slowly and retreated to get ready for her hospital shift.

Joe walked to Jackie. "Thanks, sis. I needed that."

He tried to hug her but she pushed him away. "Do you have any idea how crazy this house has been?" Her eyes were on fire. "At two o'clock in the morning, she wanted Dad to drive to the garage to see if you were there. He refused and they had a fight, at two o'clock in the morning! We were all awake. It was so stupid and stressful."

Jackie steeled her fourteen-year-old eyes. "Where were you during all of this?'

"What's for dinner?"

Jackie slammed a bag of frozen peas she was holding against Joe's chest. "I don't know. But I know you're cooking it!" She stormed out of the kitchen leaving Joe holding the bag of peas.

At this moment Joe had two conflicting thoughts; the first was to leave the house and the drama behind, go to the garage, order a pizza with Sal, have a few beers, smoke a joint, and forget about this Theroux family drama. The other was to quietly cook dinner for his sisters.

The first thing he did was throw the peas back in the freezer. Then he rifled through the pantry to see what supplies he had. There was a box of penne and some jarred sauce. In the fridge, he found bell pepper and some sketchy mushrooms. There was a huge yellow onion and garlic cloves left over from last week's Sunday dinner.

Joe went to work.

Jeanie walked up behind him as he sliced garlic super thin. She hugged him, burying her face in his back, her arms around his torso. Joe stopped slicing and turned to her. Jeanie looked up at her brother.

"Please make up with Mom. I hate it when you fight."

Joe wrapped his arms around her head and pulled Jeanie close.

"I'll try."

---- THE JEALOUSY GENE ---

On a sunny Saturday, Claire drove Joe to Ray Mullins' Music in Pawtucket. Joe decided it was time to buy another guitar, a backup so he could have his pawn shop Tele fixed up. When Claire offered to drive him, she had no clue what she was in for. Nearly two hours later, after playing nine guitars, Joe opted for a 1969 butterscotch blonde Telecaster with a Bigsby tremolo arm. Claire was surprised.

"But you already have a Tele."

"I know. This is my guitar." He held the Tele out to her. "Look at this thing. It's had a life before me. I don't know who owned it, or what they played." He looked down at the worn butterscotch finish. "I do know they played it alot for it to be this worn. I'll give her a new life."

Joe raked an A chord, not too loud, but enough to make people look over. He then played like a bassist, just the E and A strings, a low thumping beat.

"Hey, Charlie!" He yelled. "I'm taking the butterscotch."

"I knew you would. Jerry owes me lunch."

"Are you serious?"

Jerry walked up, "Yeah, I had you taking an SG."

"I know!" Joe's eyes widened. "They're so lightweight... but they growl. I can't get an SG because that's what Johnny plays. I love the hollow body Gretsch too, but I like the Tele best."

Old Charlie rang Joe up. "I knew you'd rescue another orphan." He removed the price tag from the headstock.

Joe smiled. "I feel like the guitar is picking me."

Charlie laughed. "Is the guitar paying cash as always?"

"Yes." Joe produced a fat envelope, far more than he needed for his new guitar. He pulled bills out and handed them over.

"Okay," Charlie stared at Joe's envelope. "Are you in the mob?"

"Nope. I'm a professional musician. I get paid in cash."

Charlie looked up at the kid young enough to be his grandson. "Good for you, kid. If you can make a living playing your music..." He nodded. "It will be a good life."

Joe smirked while taking his guitar. "That's the plan."

Driving back to The Hill, Claire announced she was hungry and demanded food. She was the kind of person who gets code-red hungry. If she doesn't eat soon, bad shit happens. Joe had learned this after gigs looking for breakfast at 2 AM. Claire was cranky until fed. They stopped in DePasquale Square, near Joe's house, and grabbed a slice. They sat outdoors on an unseasonably warm day, with two slices and two Cokes. A voice from behind interrupted their lunch.

"Hey, Joe. What's going on?" A female voice said in an awkward tone. Claire looked over her shoulder to see Sandy hovering... except she didn't know who this young girl was.

Joe didn't hesitate. "Claire, this is Sandy." He waved his hand between them. "Sandy, Claire."

What more could he do? Make the introduction, sit back, and see what happens. That was his play.

"Hi," Sandy waved at Claire, then turned to Joe. "I heard you were seeing a college girl."

Claire laughed and raised her hand. "That would be me."

"I know," Sandy glared at her, then turned to Joe. "I left messages with Jackie."

"I know," Joe said. "She passed them along."

"And you didn't call back."

"I've been really busy and I'm always out late."

"If he even goes home," Claire smirked at Joe.

"Is that why you're avoiding me at school?"

Joe didn't deny it, because it was true, and he knew Sandy saw him walk the other way... at least twice. He said nothing. Claire looked at Sandy, expressionless, clearly not a friendly face.

Sandy stared at Joe, not sure how to handle this uncomfortable social situation she got herself into. She suddenly wished she had not approached them. Joe could see her embarrassment.

"We can talk Monday at school," he said, offering her a way out.

"But will you?"

"Yes, I promise."

Sandy stood frozen, refusing to look Claire in the eyes, then turned and walked off without a word.

"That was weird," Claire said. "So, that's Sandy?"

"Yup."

"Your first kiss?"

"Yup." Joe took a sip of coke, feeling terrible for Sandy as she walked hurriedly away.

"She seems awkward."

"She's not, but this thing we just had was definitely that. It takes two to make it awkward... or even three."

"She was kind of a bitch to me."

"Oh," Joe smirked. "She was, and that's funny because she's not like that. Sandy is the sweetest girl. She never says a bad thing about anyone."

"That's not the vibe I got."

Joe leaned in, "My friend just embarrassed herself. That's what happened." He met Claire's eyes. "I don't feel good about that. Yeah, she was bitchy, but I've given her reasons to be."

"Oh, I get it, the not calling and avoiding. You're doing that?"

"Yeah."

"So you're not such a good guy after all."

"Yeah, well, you've been awfully catty these days. This," he motioned to the table and to where Sandy went. "is not the first. You hate Angie. You crapped all over Abby. You're not the sweet girl from the sticks... awww shucks. You have the jealousy gene."

"I do not."

"You soooo do." Joe laughed. "You even have special facial expressions for it."

"I do not."

"Oh, can you see your own face when Angie agitates you?" Just now, with Sandy, you gave her the stone-cold staredown. I've seen it a few times lately."

Claire nodded. "Okay, I'm not going to dignify this with a debate."

"Whoa." Joe leaned back. "The captain of the Cumberland High School Debate team is speechless on a weighty matter?"

"C'mon," Claire said. "I'm taking you home. I've had enough of you today." She glared are him. "And Cumberland is not the sticks."

---- MANIC MONDAY ----

Joe didn't seek out Sandy because he knew she would find him. He barely read one page of his paperback when she came in hot.

"What's wrong with you? What did I do to you? I saw you run away from me three times."

"I did not run."

"You saw me and turned around. I saw it, Joe."

"I didn't run," he smiled. "I skedaddled."

She slapped his arm.

"I scampered off, scurried away."

"Shut up, Joe. Don't be a jerk."

Twenty-three nerd eyes were on the mini-drama unfolding at the faculty entrance. It was twenty-three because Sherman Kline had a severe allergic reaction to one of the many things he was allergic to. It infected his eye and he was under a patch. The kids at school were taunting him all week, "Yar, ya scallywag!"

Joe's eyes met with Betty's smile, a taunting grin from the nerd girl amused that Sandy was scolding him.

"Well," Sandy stood there, one hand on one hip, her books in the other arm. "What did I do to you?"

Joe gestured toward twenty-three eyes. "You don't want to discuss this here."

"Then when? You won't return my calls. You run away from me. I'm here, talk."

"No, not here."

"Joe, I don't care about them. Tell me what I did to make you not want to see me?"

"Okay, you asked for it." Joe closed his book and looked up, focused on Sandy's eyes. "I'm tired of being just the guy you call when your boyfriend treats you like shit, or if he dumps you. I don't hear from you when you're happy, it's only when you're sad, or angry, and you need a shoulder to cry on. Our friendship has become a one-way street."

Sandy stood stunned. She hoped the nerds didn't hear that shit. Joe didn't say it loud, but he had a clear voice when he was inspired to speak. She said nothing, looking into Joe's unblinking eyes.

"That's really all of it," Joe said. He kept his tone low, but his eyes were on ten. "I'm your backup boy. You wanna know what kills me? " Joe's glare went to eleven on the dial. "I'm the guy who would never mistreat you the way those assholes do. I'd even protect you, unlike Todd fucking Tucci."

"I'm sorry, Joe," she said softly, feeling very self-conscious about the scene she was in with Joe. It was her second mortifying moment in just a few days. "I didn't know you felt this way."

"Maybe that's because when we talk it's always about your feelings."

Sandy was struggling to keep her composure. "I don't know what to say."

Joe stood up because he didn't have the words handy to reverse the crap he just said, not that he wanted to, so he chose to hug Sandy so she knew he doesn't hate her, he's just hurt... or something. Sandy leaned her head against his chest and his leather arms went around her.