Free Storky by D. L. Garfinkle Page B

through my old comic books. That’s how bored I was. Amanda and Mom were both out—not together, of course. So when the phone rang, I picked up. I’m so glad I did.
    As soon as I said hello, I heard Gina crying on the other end. She said “Mike,” or more like sobbed it, like a 4-syllable name. Mi-i-i-ike.
    I go, “What’s wrong?” and then I just heard her gulping. Every time she tried to talk, she kept crying or gulping. Finally, she got out that she’d had this fight with Hunk, and she’d walked by herself in the dark from his house to Denny’s, and she was calling me from the pay phone, and she didn’t want to tell her parents, and she didn’t know what to do.
    So I said, “Wait right there, I’ll get you.” Like I could drive. Or owned a car. Or knew when Amanda would be home.
    After I hung up, I laid on my bed totally blanking out, going, What did I just say? But I couldn’t let Gina down. I felt sorry for her, but also it was my big chance to be Captain Sensitive, especially with Hunk acting like such a jerk.
    So I thought, Taxi, and leapt out of bed and started searching for money. I had $16.25 in my wallet. I grabbed the $2 bill and the Susan B. Anthony dollar I was saving too. I didn’t know if that was enough. It’s not like I take taxis every day. Then I remembered all that change in the junk drawer, so while I waited for the cab, I went through the junk and dug up another $4.13.
    The taxi driver didn’t say anything on the way there except, “Vas di address?” He had this really thick accent.
    Gina looked so sweet in the Denny’s booth, her makeup all smeared under her dark eyes and a big stain on her blouse. I think it was coffee.
    I gave her a hug, and she hugged me back, real long. I should have been psyched, I guess, but I kept thinking how the taxi meter was running and I only had $23.38, which was supposed to be for Christmas and Hanukkah gifts. Plus, Gina said, “I couldn’t think who’d be home on a Saturday night besides you.”
    Gina gave me the details in the cab. How Hunk got all pissed that she wouldn’t sleep with him, and called her names. She said if she told me the names, she’d burst into tears. What a jerk. How Hunk said he was sick of waiting. And he wasn’t taking her to the Snowball since he’d be the only junior at our school who didn’t get laid after the dance. Then Gina said she and Heather had just bought semiformal dresses today at Charlotte Russe, but it came out Ru-u-u-usse, because she was crying again.
    I gave her another hug. Then the cabdriver goes in his accent, “He take you to dance. Let boy take you.”
    That bugged. First of all, I’m supposed to be a man, not a boy. Second of all, how’d he know I wasn’t already going? Could he tell I was a loser that fast? Third of all, why didn’t I think of asking her first?
    I said, “Sure I’ll take you,” trying to act like I was doing her a huge favor. Like it was nothing, though I could hardly get the words out. Gina goes, “Really?” I nodded, but I guess she didn’t see me. Then I said yes, but my voice cracked, so I said yes again real loud. Then she thanked me , and I said, “My pleasure,” trying to sound macho. But it came out all soft and she said, “What?” And the cabdriver goes, “He say my pleasures.”
    I should have tipped him more than $2. But after shelling out the $19.50 fare, I was pretty broke.
    After I walked Gina to her door, she kissed me. On the lips. Just a short little nip. Not a big sexy one like in the movies, but it felt excellent.
    When I got in, Mom smelled my breath and checked my eyes in the light. It’s like she’s my probation officer now. Who cares anyway, I’m going to the Snowball! With Gina! Awesome!

Sunday, December 5
    Dad couldn’t see me tonight. He’s eating brown rice and getting massages at some spa in Palm Springs.
    Fine. Because I need to do a lot of planning for the Snowball anyway. First, how are we supposed to get there? Have Mom