Avi focuses on the picture of him on my nightstand. "I remember that picture. It was your last day in Israel."
"It was before you were in the army." He nods slowly. "Do you hate it?"
"What, the army? I'm proud to serve my country, if that's what you mean. All guys get a high on the range, shooting a weapon so strong it could take out an entire three-story building. Makes you feel invincible."
"But you're not."
"You learn that, too. Especially during combat training. With an instructor trained in kicking ass, watch out."
"Eww." I'd be flunking combat training for sure. I'm not into physical pain, inflicting it on myself OR others. It's no surprise Mutt isn't neutered.
"It's not the torture that'll mess with people. It's the mind games." Leaning back on my dresser, he catches his bottom lip with his teeth and looks straight at me.
He looks so adorable I just want to run over to him and hug him tight until I feel all safe and secure in his arms. "What?" I say, totally self-conscious that he's staring at me as if he's memorizing my face.
"I think of you. During the toughest training, when my mind gets weak and I have dark thoughts, I've thought of you."
"Me? I'm Disaster Girl, remember?"
"No. You're the only girl I know who expects life to be perfect and gets pissed off when it's not. You're the girl who's not only beautiful and has a kick-ass body, but you're funny when you don't mean to be and would rather eat dirt than back down from a fight."
"I hate most things."
"Give me one thing you hate."
"Olives."
"But you love sushi."
"I'm not fond of my stepdad, Marc."
"But you're close with your dad now."
"My room is messy."
His eyes rest on my closet and the clothes bursting out of it. "Yeah, it is."
Taking my Care Bear, I throw it at him. He catches the stuffed animal with one hand. "Be careful who you throw things at, Amy."
"Why? What're you going to do?" I take one of my pillows and fling it at him. With his free hand, he catches it without flinching.
He cocks an eyebrow. "You're just asking for trouble."
"I'm already trouble." Picking up my last pillow, I pull it back. "You have no more hands," I tell him. "What are you going to do now?"
Before I have a chance to fling it, Avi pounces on the bed and pins me down while holding my hands at my sides and my legs with his feet.
"Is this what you learned in combat training?" I ask him, laughing and trying to escape so I can best him, but no such luck. The guy is pure, lean muscle. I'll bet he has, like, zero percent body fat. I'll bet my boobs alone have more body fat than his entire body.
He's sitting on top of me, but with just enough weight for it not to hurt. "Judge your enemy's strengths...and weaknesses," he says.
"Am I the enemy, Avi?"
"Are you? Because right now I can sense you're scheming. That overactive mind of yours is planning an escape."
"How did you know?"
"I can see it in your eyes," he says. "And I feel the adrenaline radiating off your body."
My heart is beating fast and I'm anxious, but not because I want to escape. I haven't been this close to a boy since this summer, when Avi and I went touring through Israel. I want him to kiss me now, like before. But he doesn't. Why?
"Amy, I'm back!" I hear my dad's voice yell from the foyer. Avi jumps off my bed faster than he got on it and reclaims his position leaning on my dresser.
When my dad peeks his head in the doorway of my room, he looks from me to Avi. I've managed to sit upright, but my comforter is all messed up and I'm sure my hair isn't much better.
"Avi, why don't you wait in the living room while I talk to Amy a minute."
Avi rubs his hand over his crew cut, stalling, and I can tell he wants to stay and be my protector.
"Dad, you're embarrassing me," I say after I tell Avi to wait in the living room so he doesn't have to hear my dad's lecture.
"This won't take long, Amy. Just cool it."
"If it's about sex, Mom already told me about it."
"Yeah, well now you're going to get the Dad version, okay?" He rubs his hands together as if he's about to do some heavy weightlifting. The noise of his dry hands making sandpaper sounds makes me wish I'd forced him to buy the hand cream the manicure lady suggested he get. He clears his throat and says, "No sex."
"Got it. Thanks for the talk, Dad. Totally helped. Glad we're on the same page."
"Amy..." he says in a warning tone.
I moan, situate my pillows which are strewn across my bed, and lean back on them. "What?"
"Avi is eighteen, a man. You. just turned seventeen--"
"Over a month ago," I interrupt.
"Yes, well, guys are different than girls. Guys, um, have urges and, um, so you have to be careful, and uh, your own body is changing and, uh, you know. You might be having, um, feelings, too..."
All those ums and uhs are making my brain twitch.
"Aba, maybe you should have gone to that seminar our school had last year about talking to your kids about sex.
Mom went. She said to be careful; there's a lot of diseases. And to protect myself at all times, no matter what. And that if a guy tells me I have to do something in order for him to like me, then I should give him the old heave-ho. And that the risks of having sex at my age so outweigh the benefits. And that I can still be a teenager and liked without exploiting myself or my values. Does that cover it?"