Storky

Storky by D. L. Garfinkle Page B

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Authors: D. L. Garfinkle
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didn’t say anything. Mom kept looking at Vermin every 5 seconds. It was like Gina and Hunk at the Snowball all over again. Ugh.
    Finally, Aunt Marsha did this loud whistle, with her fingers in her mouth and everything, and yelled, “Howard!” Mom said, “Marsha” and shook her head, but actually she seemed pretty glad.
    When he saw us, he like sprinted to our lane. He gave Mom this big hug, and they went, “I’m sorry,” “No, I’m sorry,” “No, I’m sorry,” like a 7th Heaven episode, with Aunt Marsha smiling and me just wanting to ralph.
    Another night spent with the Vermster. After we bowled a second game, Dr. Vermin got up to leave, and he and Mom fell all over each other going, “Happy New Year,” and “I’ll call,” and “I’m sorry” again.
    Something made me tell Mom, “Just let him sleep over, I can handle it.” I guess it’s because I didn’t like seeing Mom all bummed last night. Or possibly I’m getting mature. Or maybe I wanted a real 7th Heaven ending where everyone works everything out and there’s a gazillion people living in one house without anyone ever fighting over the bathroom or who left out the dirty dishes.
    Mom tried to have this big heart-to-heart with me about whether it was really okay, blah blah blah. But I could tell she was tired, and I’m not a big talker anyway. So me and Aunt Marsha convinced her to just go home with Dr. Vermin while we stayed to bowl the third game.
    Aunt Marsha’s pretty okay. We got some chili cheese fries in the coffee shop afterward, and I told her the whole pathetic story of the Snowball, and how I wimped out Tuesday with Gina on the phone.
    Somehow I got to talking about Dad. I don’t know, it felt good to tell someone. And since she calls him The Pig sometimes, I figured she’d understand. She didn’t really. She said even though he’s a pig, he’s still my dad.
    Then she told me a long story about this guy who sits at the dock watching all the boats go by and never gets on one because he’s afraid of the water, and then a tidal wave knocks him off the dock and drowns him. That story somehow means I’m supposed to call Dad and Gina and tell them they should be nicer to me.
    Aunt Marsha patted my hand and said if I ever needed to talk, I could come over to her place and she’d make that tofu prune casserole I liked so much. It got way too cheesy, so I go, “Since you want me to be honest, I hate tofu.” She laughed and said we could just order out for pizza next time.
    I ended up sleeping until 11:09 this morning. By the time I went downstairs for breakfast, Dr. Vermin was just walking out the door. So him sleeping over was no big deal after all.
    But I hope he only does it on New Year’s and maybe Mom’s birthday. This better not get out of control. I don’t want them living together or anything.

Sunday, January 2
    Big phone call day. I called Dad, Nate, and Gina. Luckily Dad wasn’t there or he was screening, so I left him a message.
    Been calling Nate for the last 2 days to find out if he got lucky on New Year’s Eve. I wonder why he’s not calling back.
    I wrote down what to say to Gina, but on the phone it didn’t come out that well. Said I was bummed about the Snowball, how she blew me off. Because it was my night too, not just hers. Gina apologized. But she didn’t seem sorry. It was more like she said it to shut me up.
    I could have told her about Sydney Holland, that I wish I hadn’t turned her down, that while Gina was sighing over Hunk and Phoebe from Friends, I was watching Sydney all happy on the dance floor, with her long legs and sparkly eyes.
    But I couldn’t even say Sydney’s name. Maybe because it’s mean to tell one girl that you think another girl’s hot—even though Gina’s always gushing over Hunk in front of me. Or maybe I knew Gina would bring up Sydney’s braces, or her frizzy hair, or her barrettes. Maybe because Sydney and Gina are in different leagues. And I mean that as a compliment

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