been, and for a moment on arrival she stared with Amber at the window display of cracked, old wedding cakes and cookies misting up under the yellow lights. Then they heard it, faint laughter, and realized two boys had been looking at them from inside the bakery, making faces while they blanked out at the pastries. Gwen didn’t recognize them until she clattered open the broken door and entered the place.
What do all girls have in common? Nathan and Cody Glasserman were on their way out with a big pink box. Nathan had on a large, billowy shirt, maybe his dad’s, unbuttoned enough for a glimpse of his chest, and big ratty shoes with untied laces; Cody blinked underneath a baseball cap and was carrying the box by the string. The boys and girls paused for a moment in virtual voraciousness—the great fierce swath heterosexuality has scorched across the planet—and then the boys smiled.
“Those cakes were hypnotizing you,” Nathan said. “Remember: one moment on the lips, forever on the hips.”
“Brave words for a guy with a whole cake,” Amber said.
“I swim,” Nathan said with a shrug. “Eat what I want.”
Amber turned to Gwen. “You guys know each other?”
“We all do,” Cody said, and Nathan gave him a small shove. A comic book fell out of his pocket—a heroine in flames getting revenge with big boobs. He picked it up with a blush as Amber walked by. Nathan and Gwen were left looking at each other, Gwen remembering the part of the magazine date guide on how to turn a no into a yes. 1. Control your emotions. 2. Decide if you got a mixed message. 3. Understand the other person’s motivation. 4. Offer a revised date.
“Who’s the cake for?” Gwen tried.
Nathan blinked very slowly, and she had to stop herself from licking her lips.
Cody stood back up and looked at her sympathetically, and his big brother gave him a shove. “Get going, Yankee,” Nathan said, and made a motion with his circled hand—just like her father had about Allan, up and down, along an imaginary penis—that ruined the word “Yankee” for Gwen forever. “Hey,” he said to her, with bright eyes. His hand was still circled. “I think you’re like a pirate treasure.”
“What?” she asked. How did he know?
His hand uncurled and pointed right at her. “Sunken chest,” he said, and ruffled Cody’s hat on his way out. “See ya, Spot.” Gwen could not watch them, only the cake in the box, each time it bounced in Cory’s hands, like a boat in a storm. Naomi’s birthday, she thought with some relief, was not now.
“Who were those guys? I’ve seen them.”
“Nathan Glasserman and Cody Glasserman.”
“Jerk.”
“Yes.”
“But gorge.”
“What?”
“Gorgeous.”
Gwen felt a jealous shiver. She hunched over so nobody would see her sunken chest and decided to do so every day until she died. This would be our Nathan’s legacy.
“What was it you said, though?” Amber said, slipping a pen out of her pocket. “I fail to see the contraband? I prefer older guys, like Tortuga.”
“Controversy.”
“Piece of paper?”
“What? Yeah.” Gwen unzipped her bag. “Tortuga’s cool.”
“But you like that Glasser guy?”
“Well,” Gwen said, and then didn’t say anything.
“It’s okay to like jerks. I mean, it’d be better to like a nice guy, but there aren’t any. Look at them.”
Gwen tore out a piece of paper and Amber held it to the wall and started writing on it immediately.
“Don’t you wish,” Amber started, and then paused to scribble more, “that with guys like that you could just kidnap them? You know, and shut them up somehow?”
“Like, stuff them into a car,” Gwen said. She could not tell if she had thought of this before or was just thinking of it now.
“Have our wicked way with them,” Amber said. “What do you want?”
“What?”
“Don’t get a muffin; they taste like potpourri. You like the almond cookies?”
“I’ve never been here.”
“But you know what
What do all girls have in common? Nathan and Cody Glasserman were on their way out with a big pink box. Nathan had on a large, billowy shirt, maybe his dad’s, unbuttoned enough for a glimpse of his chest, and big ratty shoes with untied laces; Cody blinked underneath a baseball cap and was carrying the box by the string. The boys and girls paused for a moment in virtual voraciousness—the great fierce swath heterosexuality has scorched across the planet—and then the boys smiled.
“Those cakes were hypnotizing you,” Nathan said. “Remember: one moment on the lips, forever on the hips.”
“Brave words for a guy with a whole cake,” Amber said.
“I swim,” Nathan said with a shrug. “Eat what I want.”
Amber turned to Gwen. “You guys know each other?”
“We all do,” Cody said, and Nathan gave him a small shove. A comic book fell out of his pocket—a heroine in flames getting revenge with big boobs. He picked it up with a blush as Amber walked by. Nathan and Gwen were left looking at each other, Gwen remembering the part of the magazine date guide on how to turn a no into a yes. 1. Control your emotions. 2. Decide if you got a mixed message. 3. Understand the other person’s motivation. 4. Offer a revised date.
“Who’s the cake for?” Gwen tried.
Nathan blinked very slowly, and she had to stop herself from licking her lips.
Cody stood back up and looked at her sympathetically, and his big brother gave him a shove. “Get going, Yankee,” Nathan said, and made a motion with his circled hand—just like her father had about Allan, up and down, along an imaginary penis—that ruined the word “Yankee” for Gwen forever. “Hey,” he said to her, with bright eyes. His hand was still circled. “I think you’re like a pirate treasure.”
“What?” she asked. How did he know?
His hand uncurled and pointed right at her. “Sunken chest,” he said, and ruffled Cody’s hat on his way out. “See ya, Spot.” Gwen could not watch them, only the cake in the box, each time it bounced in Cory’s hands, like a boat in a storm. Naomi’s birthday, she thought with some relief, was not now.
“Who were those guys? I’ve seen them.”
“Nathan Glasserman and Cody Glasserman.”
“Jerk.”
“Yes.”
“But gorge.”
“What?”
“Gorgeous.”
Gwen felt a jealous shiver. She hunched over so nobody would see her sunken chest and decided to do so every day until she died. This would be our Nathan’s legacy.
“What was it you said, though?” Amber said, slipping a pen out of her pocket. “I fail to see the contraband? I prefer older guys, like Tortuga.”
“Controversy.”
“Piece of paper?”
“What? Yeah.” Gwen unzipped her bag. “Tortuga’s cool.”
“But you like that Glasser guy?”
“Well,” Gwen said, and then didn’t say anything.
“It’s okay to like jerks. I mean, it’d be better to like a nice guy, but there aren’t any. Look at them.”
Gwen tore out a piece of paper and Amber held it to the wall and started writing on it immediately.
“Don’t you wish,” Amber started, and then paused to scribble more, “that with guys like that you could just kidnap them? You know, and shut them up somehow?”
“Like, stuff them into a car,” Gwen said. She could not tell if she had thought of this before or was just thinking of it now.
“Have our wicked way with them,” Amber said. “What do you want?”
“What?”
“Don’t get a muffin; they taste like potpourri. You like the almond cookies?”
“I’ve never been here.”
“But you know what
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