"Yah!" he yells while stomping his foot on the ground. This coming from a guy who thinks I'm a mashed potato.
I turn back to the sheep, who have now just run into the adjacent pen at his command/stomp routine.
Avi's got this arrogant smirk on his face like he's done some massive accomplishment.
"I bet your boyfriend can't do that," he says.
How dare he bring Mitch into this ...this ...this ..."I bet he wouldn't even want to," I say back.
For the rest of the afternoon, I copy the yell-stomp technique Avi showed me and I've become quite the herder.
At one point Ron even said, "Good job, honey." He'll never know how much those words meant to me.
Right after the adults leave the pens for the day, I watch as the teens gather together on bales of hay over ten feet tall.
I walk past them until Ofra yells down at me. "Amy, come up here."
Snotty glares at her, but Ofra ignores her.
"No, thanks," I say.
Avi is up there, sitting like he was born ten feet off the ground.
"She's scared to climb up here," he says. "She's got big words, but little courage."
Unbelievable. One minute he's trying to help me and the next he's being the biggest showoff and insulting me. It doesn't take more to get me climbing up the yellow, wiry straw
When I get to the top, I don't know where to sit. I hang my feet over the edge of the hay and lean back. All eyes are on me. I turn to Avi and give him a little to stew about.
"Why do you hate me?" I ask.
I know this shouldn't be laundered in public like this, but I can't help it. I need to know, and I need to know now.
Avi doesn't answer and everyone else is looking away from him.
"Don't take it personally," Doo-Doo says. "He's been like this for a while."
"Why?" I direct my question to Doo-Doo, but I'm still looking at Avi.
Nobody says anything. The tension is as hot as the sun beating down on my back.
Avi barks out words in Hebrew I obviously can't possibly understand. My Hebrew vocabulary is limited to about five words. He knows this. Snotty knows this. Hell, they all know it.
Which makes me feel like one of those flying spider-looking things back at the house. Not a spider, not a fly. Just somewhere in-between.
They all start arguing. At once. Very loudly. It sounds like one big phlegm-fest because it seems as if every word in Hebrew has the 'ch' sound coming out of the middle of their throats.
It'd be nice to know what they're all talking about. Are they discussing why Avi hates me? It sure feels that way. But they're arguing.
It's obvious Avi and Snotty hate me, I'm so glad the other kids have been nice. O'dead leans his body closer to Snotty's each time he talks. Interesting observation I'll reserve for later. I wonder what it is about her that attracts all the guys? Anyone can have black makeup running down their face.
I stand, ready to climb down from this haystack. I feel so uncomfortable around Avi and Snotty
"You want to come on a camping trip with us?" Doo-Doo asks.
My eyebrows furrow. Before I can answer, Avi interrupts me.
"Mah-pee-tome!" Avi says to Doo-Doo.
"Llama-low?" Doo-Doo says back to his friend.
"Hello? Why don't you speak English?" I finally say. "Don't you realize it's rude to talk privately while I'm right in front of you?"
Ofra leans back on her elbows and nods her head. "She has a point."
My eyes blink. I could almost kiss the girl on the lips for supporting me so much. Although I don't go that way. But if I did, I would.
Avi groans.
"I don't go camping," I say.
"You said you were going with your boyfriend. I heard you on the phone," Avi challenges.
Think quick, Amy. He's got your number.
"Yeah, well, I only go with him. Mitch has been a Boy Scout since he was, like, five years old or something."
Snotty hisses. "Amy, you make up stuff to try and look good. What's real with you and what's not? Avi's right about you."
Silence. Until I feel my patience snap inside my body.
I know I shouldn't start up with someone I have to share a room with. And I know it probably isn't the smartest thing to go off on my cousin in front of an audience. She probably won't understand what I'm going to say anyway because of the language barrier. But I can't help it, there's like an overload of adrenaline running through my brain.
Even as I tell myself to keep my mouth closed, I hear myself say, "Do you get off on being a royal bitch? 'Cause ever since I met you, you've treated me like a piece of shit." I'm on a roll and my mouth is working overtime. "I can't stand you, your short shirts, tight pants ... or your sorry excuse for br**sts! How's that for being real?"
I wave my finger at Avi. "And you, all you've got to offer is a bad attitude and a chip on your shoulder. I will go camping, just to piss ...you ...off! You don't like it, don't go. Then you can be an Israeli with a big mouth and little courage."
"You think you got courage?" Avi challenges me.
"Damn straight. I could push you off this thing without thinking twice."
He stands up, his mouth upturned in a smirk. "I dare you."
Okay, I think about it. But only once. Then I push his chest with all the strength I have.
He doesn't budge, the guy is like a rock.