"I think I'm gonna need that sex talk again," I whisper, then give him a self-conscious smile and move past him to lock myself in the bathroom.
Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I wonder what makes Avi think I'm on the same level looks-wise as him. My teeth aren't perfect, my top lip disappears when I smile, my hair is too frizzy, and my boobs are a cup size too big. I even kept my bra on with my pjs because I don't want Avi noticing how much my boobage sags when I unleash "the girls."
He said that he likes me because I expect life to be perfect. Who doesn't fight for things to go their way? I guess some people, even Jessica, settle for the status quo. It's in my nature to fight. I guess I can blame that trait on my dad.
I've also come to realize that with turning seventeen, I've become boy crazy. I think about them all the time. It started when I met Avi, and hasn't stopped. Sometimes I'll think about boys at the strangest times, like in conversion class or even when I'm shopping. Last week when Jessica was telling me about her dance competition, my mind wrapped around the word "dance" and my thoughts wandered to when I was in Israel this past summer at a disco and I watched Avi dance. He's an amazing dancer, so comfortable moving his body to music, unlike most guys I know.
Maybe the rules are a good thing, after all.
I peek into the living room before I go to bed. Avi is laying on the couch, the blanket covering his bottom half but his toned chest is exposed. He's got one arm resting behind his head, which makes his bicep tense up. "What?"
"Are you on steroids or something?"
He laughs. "You ever try holding a Kalashnikov assault rifle over your head while walking five kilometers in water up to your waist twice a day. Your arms would be just as big. The gun touches the water, you get another kilometer tacked on."
No thank you very much. "I thought you trained in the desert."
"We did that, too. It's either holding the jerikon full of water, which is over twenty kilos, or being one of four supporting the heaviest guy in the unit on a stretcher while running. And no matter where you are, if the unit leader tells you to drop on the ground, you go down... whether it's on sharp rocks or not."
"How did you get the scars on your arms?" I ask, now focused on the raw skin on his forearms.
"Ground-crawling exercises. Fun stuff. Now can we stop talking about the army?"
"What do you want to talk about?" I sit on the edge of the mahogany coffee table in front of the couch.
"Tell me about your city. What makes it so special?"
Chicago is unique, unlike any place in the world. I can say just one thing about it and start rambling. "We have world-famous museums, the largest indoor aquarium, every sport team you could imagine with dedicated-to-the-death fans. We have Lincoln Park Zoo, one of the only free zoos in the country and the Harold Washington library, which is the largest of its kind in the world. We have three of the tallest buildings in the world and the best food in the entire country, which includes pizza, sushi, hot dogs, and Italian beef. You want me to go on?"
Avi sits up. "Your eyes light up when you talk about your city."
"I love Chicago. I was born at Weiss Memorial not too far away from here and have lived here my whole life. My mom moved to the suburbs so now I live with my dad. I can't stand not being here. The energy of the city is contagious. My mom and her new husband are having a baby in their new house, anyway, and don't need me hanging around."
"Does it bother you that they're going to have a kid?"
I chip more polish off my nails. "Yeah. It's going to change our whole family. Just when I'm trying to get used to a permanent man in my mom's life, I now have to deal with a baby. It's totally strange. I'm, like, confused about where my family begins and where it ends. No small nuclear family for me. In fact, I don't even know who my immediate family is anymore."
I've never been a fan of change, and my life has changed way too much in the past six months.
"Amy, I thought you were in bed," my dad says from the hallway.
"I was just saying goodnight to Avi."
My dad watches us as in he's a guard in the Israeli military.
"Lyla tov, Amy," Avi says, then winks at me.
I guess my night is over, whether I want it to be or not. "Goodnight," I say, then go back to my room and text Jessica.
Me: You there?
Jess: Yep, was waiting 4 u to text me. How's the hottie?
Me: Kewl
Jess: What, no details?
Me: There are none
Jess: Liar. U kiss him yet?
Me: Yes Jess: And?
Me:
Jess: What's wrong?
Me: Wasn't the same.
Jess: Can I have him, then?
Me: NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jess: Just kidding. Gee, Amy, no need 2 yell. Didn't know u were so territorial.
Me: I'm not. OK I am.
Jess: U confuse me.
Me: I confuse myself. And I'm tired.
Jess: Me, 2
Me: I'm going to bed. C u tomorrow.
Jess: Bye, chica
Me: Lyla tov
21
***
Oil production of Saudi Arabia: 9.475 million barrels per day
Oil production of Iran: 3.979 million barrels per day
Oil production of Iraq: 2.093 million barrels per day
Oil production of Egypt: 700,000 barrels per day
Oil production of Syria: 403,800 barrels per day
Oil production of Israel: 2,740 barrels per day
Do you think Moses made a wrong turn somewhere?