Light Years (8 page)

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Authors: Tammar Stein

BOOK: Light Years
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“I knew you were going to do that,” he said.

“And I knew you knew,” I said sweetly. “But I decided to do it anyway.”

He burst out laughing. I returned to the office in a better mood than I’d been in for weeks.

I didn’t want to tell anyone about this date. It didn’t seem to mean anything yet, and I didn’t know enough about him. If he was a player or had already dated everyone else in the office, I didn’t want to be made fun of. But gossip spread in the office like mold on damp bread. Just because I didn’t tell anyone about it didn’t mean people hadn’t noticed.

“Maya, you dog!” Ilana caught my arm as I walked down the hall. “How long were you planning to hide it?” Ilana, with her hennaed hair and love of heavy gold jewelry, was my age, twice my weight, and half a head shorter. She was also better informed than the Mossad.

“Hide what?” For a moment I really didn’t know what she meant.

“ ‘Hide what?’ she asks,” she scoffed, and laughed loudly. “I’m talking about the fact that you tried to hide that amazing piece of flesh drooling after you. We’re all ready to melt from those looks he sends you. I don’t know how you do it, honey, three months in Tel Aviv and you’ve got the hottest man in the building after you.”

We were just standing out there in the hall. Anyone could walk by and hear her. I could feel my face heat up.

“Do you mean Dov?”

“Who else?” She mocked. “Who else could I possibly mean?” She leaned in. “I hear he’s unbelievable in bed. You’re in for a good time.” Her face was so near mine that I could see where her dark lip liner veered off her lip like a blip on a heart monitor.

I was embarrassed, annoyed, and just a tiny bit flattered that I was dating such a catch. But annoyance won out.

“That’s disgusting,” I said. “Besides, I thought you tried out everyone in the building. How great can he be if you haven’t slept with him yet?”

She blinked in surprise.

“I’ve got to run,” I said. “See you later.” I took off before she could say anything. Ilana laughed behind me and I wanted to kick myself. My mouth, I swore, was not always connected to my brain. After she stopped laughing, I could feel her staring at my retreating back, speculating.

That Friday night, I waited at the crowded bus station for my bus to arrive. I was meeting my high school friend Daphna in South Tel Aviv, where most of the pubs and clubs were. Dov
was going to be there. I was jostled forward as a mother and daughter brushed by me. People stood closer here in Tel Aviv than in Haifa, bumping, touching. I had almost gotten used to it.

I had spent nearly two hours getting ready, blasting U2 on my CD player, practicing my dance moves in the mirror. I finally settled on low-slung black pants and a dark-red shirt that rode high, exposing my navel. I had recently invested in half a dozen thongs and two push-up bras—things I never paid attention to in high school. But living with Aunt Hen was an education. She might rarely be at home, but when she was, she noticed things, whether it was water spots on her marble counters or a faint stain on my favorite white shirt. She was the one who had pointed out that my panty line was showing the last time I’d worn these pants.

“It’s embarrassing,” she said. “You don’t want people to be able to see your underwear, you want them to guess.”

“Guess what?”

“Is she or isn’t she wearing any?”

“Ha, ha.”

She lifted her brows. “Trust me.”

I hadn’t gotten used to wearing thongs yet, though when I confessed to Daphna that I’d bought some, she swore they get to be more comfortable than regular panties. This was only my third time wearing one and I was very conscious of it. Also, my breasts were up higher than usual, pushing out, so when I looked down, I could actually see them rising out of my shirt. I felt very sexy but also slightly off balance. I didn’t quite
know this new person I’d become. I liked her, but I didn’t know her.

As I waited for the bus, I shook out a cigarette and dug through my purse for my matches. I wasn’t perfect at lighting a cigarette yet. There was a style to it, a way to do it fluidly, to look like a black-and-white photo from the forties. But I couldn’t bring myself to practice in the mirror. That seemed a little stupid, even for me.

After losing two matches to the slight breeze in the open station, I was lit and glowing. I took a deep drag and blew out the smoke in twin streams from my nose, like a dragon. I didn’t really like smoking yet, didn’t like the way it tasted, but there was no better way to keep your hands occupied. My stomach was full of nervous butterflies and my heart was skipping just a little too fast.

Dov will be there tonight, I thought for the thirteenth time. Not because of me, but because he was good friends with Daphna’s new boyfriend. Small world. Maybe. Or maybe he’d decided to come because he knew I would be there. My heart rate kicked up a little more and the cigarette trembled on its way up. Be cool. I tried to think of how Hen would handle him, but failed. Forget Aunt Hen. I tried to remind myself that he was chasing after me, not the other way around. I wasn’t sure what I felt for him yet, but my stomach and my damp palms were telling me they knew exactly what they thought of him. He was sexy and fine and Ilana wasn’t the only one who’d made some jealous little comment about him after our one lunch date.

The bus arrived just as I finished my excellent pep talk. I tossed my ciggie onto the ground, making sure to step on it and crush it out before climbing onto the bus, about as steady on my high heels as a rowboat tied to a pier. I found an empty seat midway down the aisle and plopped down, my mind full of fantasies and lectures and nervous excitement. Would we kiss? Would he try? Should I let him?

The bus pulled out with a lurch. There were people standing in the aisle and they all swung forward and then back again, like seaweed in a shallow sea pool. A young man sat next to me, looking out the window. He was dark-skinned and growing a wispy mustache that made him seem very young, probably a waiter or busboy coming home from work. I looked away from him and saw an older woman holding onto the strap above my seat. Her hair was covered by a black kerchief framing a round face with sagging jowls. She looked sixty, though she might have been younger. I could never tell when they were covered up like that. I was mildly surprised that no one had offered her a seat. Someone should have. I glanced down and saw her ankles were large and puffy above her tan-colored shoes. I looked at the people sitting down but with the exception of my seatmate and me, everyone else was older.

I stood up.


Giveret,
” I said in Hebrew. “You can have my seat.”

She sat down without hesitation, pushing me slightly with her bulk. I staggered and grabbed for the handhold she had just vacated. She mumbled something at me, maybe “thank you.”

I had expected something a bit more grateful.

The waiter-boy turned and looked at me. I looked away. I suddenly felt foolish with my pushed-out breasts and sexy clothes. I reached up with my other hand and grabbed a pole for better balance, trying to ignore the fact that it made my shirt ride high above my waist. Most people just take a cab when they go out on Friday night, but I wanted to save the money. I was beginning to think taking a taxi might be worth the extra expense.

The bus stopped several times, and after ten minutes I found a free seat, which I wasn’t about to give up any time soon.

The waiter-boy kept looking at me, but I ignored him. When the seat behind me opened up, he moved into it. I could feel his eyes boring holes in my back.

I turned in my seat and glared at him. “What do you want?”

He seemed slightly surprised. “This seat was open, I can sit wherever I want to.”

“Well, stop staring at me.” I was sure he would try some stupid pick-up line and I was already annoyed with myself for dressing this way.

“You did a good thing, giving up your seat.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, staring fixedly at a spot near my right shoulder. The words were grudging, like he wished he didn’t have to say them.

“Oh.” Now I really felt stupid. “Thanks.”

He got off a few stops later and I looked out the window until he passed. As the bus pulled away, I finally relaxed. My thoughts drifted back to Dov and his brown hair that looked so soft. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to happen tonight. I hoped he was a good kisser. Would I find out?

I got off at my stop and hurried over to Leila, the pub where we were meeting. Of course, after scanning the crowded place, I realized I was the first to arrive. After working my way to the bar, I ordered a rum and Coke.

Leila was packed with tiny round tables that had four, five, sometimes six people crowded around them, drinking beer or cocktails, nibbling on the olives and peanuts that came to every table. The walls were painted a deep lilac with silver stars, comets, and solar-system swirls twinkling all around. I tried to see if they’d painted any real constellations, but it all looked random.

Someone came up and stood next to me at the bar.

“Hi, sweetie,” Daphna yelled in my ear, and then she gave me a wet kiss on the cheek. “I’m late, I’m late.”

“For a very important date,” I said, but she didn’t get the
Alice in Wonderland
reference.

“Everyone else is waiting outside. We can’t get a table here so we’re going someplace else. Are you going to finish that?” She pointed to my drink.

“All yours.”

She downed it and we left.

Outside, Dov and Bar were waiting. Bar had just bought a tiny two-door hatchback, and he’d parked it up on the curb with the hazard lights flashing as they waited for us. Dov got out and tilted the seat forward so Daphna and I could get in behind him. I smiled and he smiled back. I brushed by him as I got into the car.

Bar had some sort of techno music blasting from his
speakers and was driving to the pulsing rhythm, veering around cars, hand on the horn.

“I can’t watch,” Daphna wailed, and buried her face in my shoulder. She smelled of something that wasn’t her perfume. Seemed the party had started without me.

Dov turned and looked at her in amusement.

“What about you,” he said. Our eyes met. “Scared?”

“I’d like to see my death when it comes.”

“Ah. Brave and beautiful. I can respect that.”

“That’s a relief.” I wasn’t even blushing. Maybe because it seemed he was testing me.

He turned to face the front again.

“You’re so mean to him,” Daphna whispered loudly. I finally got a good look at her eyes. They were bloodshot.

“Did you smoke up?”

“Don’t be mad,” she whispered. “I want to have fun tonight.”

“Daphna, are you insane?” I tried to keep my voice down. “What the hell were you thinking? You’re in the army. Do you know how much trouble you could get into?”

“Maya, don’t be a drag. I know everyone at the MP station. Even if I get caught, they won’t book me. I’m totally safe.” She snuggled in next to me, pushing my hair out of her way. “Tonight’ll be great. Dov is such a hottie.”

“Did you all get high before you picked me up?” It explained Bar’s erratic driving. I knew that I probably sounded like my mother, which wasn’t cool. But I wasn’t happy with the thought of riding in the back of a sardine can whose driver was
probably seeing clouds and butterflies drifting by. It was also disappointing that Dov did drugs. It changed my opinion of him.

“Just wait till you see this new club,” she said, oblivious. “Bar knows the bouncer, otherwise we’d never get in. God, I’m starving. Honey—” she called out. “Stop at the next kiosk we pass. I’m so hungry I could pass out.”

Bar swerved, slammed on the brakes, and jumped a curb, scattering the people loitering around a shacklike falafel stand. We got a lot of glares, and someone shouted, “You fucking maniacs.” I hunched down in my seat.

Daphna shrieked with laughter. I loved her and we’d been friends since forever, but I hated it when she got high.

Bar got out, tilted his seat, and Daphna crawled out. She nearly fell and Bar caught her. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. They kissed.

I looked away.

“So.” Dov twisted to get a better look at me. “You ready to have a good time tonight?”

“Not as good a time as you guys, apparently.”

“They were like that when I got here.”

I ignored the relief sneaking through me. He didn’t do drugs. So what? “Is he safe to drive? I don’t want to ride with a driver who’s going to mistake a stop sign for a grinning monkey.”

“You want me to drive?”

I thought about it for a moment. There was something very sober and steady about Dov.

“Yeah, I do. But there’s no way you’ll be able to talk Bar out of driving. No way he’ll let you. He’s a maniac about his car.”

“Is that a dare?”

I laughed. “Sure, if you want to make it into one. Let’s see you do it.”

He was out of the car before I finished. He walked over to Bar, who was kicking pebbles, waiting for Daphna to get her order. Dov threw an arm around Bar and said something. Bar laughed. They both looked over at me. I glared and looked away. When I looked back, Dov was talking again and Bar was nodding.

Dov returned to the car.

“Come on, you’re moving up front.”

“What? But there’s hardly room back there for me and Daphna. How is Bar going to fit?”

“They’ll figure out something.”

I got out. Dov and I leaned against the hood while Daphna devoured her stuffed pita. Bar kept taking bites until she ordered him to get another one for himself.

“What about you?” Dov asked. “Hungry?”

“No. It’s nearly midnight; I don’t know how they can eat that greasy food so late. Makes me queasy just thinking about it.” I made a face. “You have to tell me how you convinced him to let you drive.”

Dov looked down at me, amusement playing on his lovely face. “Oh, it’s no problem. You just have to know what cards to play.” Which of course made me wonder even more what he’d said to put that look in Bar’s eye.

The orange streetlight washed out the color of Dov’s eyes and made them seem nearly clear. Leaning against the hood, he folded his arms across his chest and brushed against me. I tried not to jump. I felt the contact all the way down to my toes. I studied him from under my lashes. He was wearing black cargo pants and a silky gray T-shirt that molded to his body. Something shifted and tightened in my stomach.

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