Read Online You Only Get So Much by Dan Kolbet - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dan Kolbet
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only half kidding.
"Very funny,"
he says.
"It's true. It's
just a little messier when the action starts."
To the kid's credit, he
did manage to get the zipper unstuck with one ferocious pull. It was a feat I'm
not certain I'd be able to manage had I been in the same situation. Of course,
just thinking that means I've instantly jinxed myself. Time to get some
button-fly jeans, I guess.
Kendall sits next to
Ethan in the waiting room, gently rubbing his back and telling him everything
is going to be OK. In another context, this sort of affection would be cute,
but I am still quite bothered by the events that occurred prior to the zipper
incident.
When Ethan gets called
back to see the doctor, we all stand up, Gracie included. She of course had to
tag along too. Ethan waves us off, preferring to face the medical staff solo.
So I finally get to address Kendall about what the hell she was thinking by
letting Ethan secretly sleep over.
"I don't see what
the big deal is," she says. "He does it all the time."
"I highly doubt
that."
"Whatever,"
she shrugs her shoulders.
"Your mom and dad
were OK with that?" I ask.
"Beats being alone
all the time."
This is going to come
out wrong, but I have to say it anyway.
"You do realize
that as a 17-year-old girl, everything that you are eligible to do when you are
married can still lead to, you know, pretty dramatic stuff."
"What are you
talking about?" she asks.
"You need to be
careful because you're able to do stuff, even if you're not really ready to do
stuff."
"Oh my Lord, Uncle Billy are you
afraid to say the word sex?"
"I'm just trying
to—"
"SEX!!" she
shouts to every listening ear in the waiting room. "I'm not ashamed to say
it. Can you?"
"Stop acting like a
child," I say, realizing instantly how condescending and parental that
sounds.
"I am a child,
remember?" She says. "But still eligible to do stuff ."
"You're too young
to have a boy sleep in your bed."
"I'll be 18 in 10
months."
"Thanks for the
calendar update, but right now, you're 17 and too young to have a boy sleeping
in your bed."
"I wasn't trying to
hide him."
"Come again?"
"I wasn't trying to
hide him. He came over last night. You were passed out on the couch when I
would have told you he was staying over—"
" Asked if he
could stay over," I interrupt.
"Whatever. So he
just slept over."
"And woke up
naked."
"He said he was
hot," she says.
"I'm sure he
was," I say, knowing that every boy his age uses that line.
I'm suddenly aware that
the old couple sitting across from us is listening to our every word. And the
black guy with the blood-soaked bandage around his hand is staring at us. And
I'm certain that the people sitting behind us—and Gracie—have heard
it all.
"We didn't do
anything," she says. "We just slept."
I do remember her
getting out of bed in long pants and green shirt.
"It doesn't
matter," I say.
"Why?"
"Because it
doesn't."
"Good reason,"
she says.
I look over a Gracie and
her newly-short hair and think about yesterday's incident. So, my good reason?
Which I dare not say, but is likely clear to everyone—including the black
guy with the bloody hand and the old couple—is that I have no idea what
the hell I'm doing. Gracie is chopping off her own hair. Kendall is sleeping
with her boyfriend in her own bedroom and I'm just the guy counting to three to
release the penis.
I'm not helping these
girls one bit.
Chapter 12
I look at myself in the
bathroom mirror. I examine the bluish rings that hang under my eyes. My beard,
still full, is specked with gray and white. These signs of maturity aren't
welcome. I know I'm not that old. When I look at my parents —now, they
seem old. I seem . . . established in my skin. But not old. I guess age is a
thing that you see differently from different sides of the hill. When I'm in
the park and see two twenty-something kids giving each other goo-goo eyes on a
blanket, I see them as young. If I saw someone doing the same thing at my
"Very funny,"
he says.
"It's true. It's
just a little messier when the action starts."
To the kid's credit, he
did manage to get the zipper unstuck with one ferocious pull. It was a feat I'm
not certain I'd be able to manage had I been in the same situation. Of course,
just thinking that means I've instantly jinxed myself. Time to get some
button-fly jeans, I guess.
Kendall sits next to
Ethan in the waiting room, gently rubbing his back and telling him everything
is going to be OK. In another context, this sort of affection would be cute,
but I am still quite bothered by the events that occurred prior to the zipper
incident.
When Ethan gets called
back to see the doctor, we all stand up, Gracie included. She of course had to
tag along too. Ethan waves us off, preferring to face the medical staff solo.
So I finally get to address Kendall about what the hell she was thinking by
letting Ethan secretly sleep over.
"I don't see what
the big deal is," she says. "He does it all the time."
"I highly doubt
that."
"Whatever,"
she shrugs her shoulders.
"Your mom and dad
were OK with that?" I ask.
"Beats being alone
all the time."
This is going to come
out wrong, but I have to say it anyway.
"You do realize
that as a 17-year-old girl, everything that you are eligible to do when you are
married can still lead to, you know, pretty dramatic stuff."
"What are you
talking about?" she asks.
"You need to be
careful because you're able to do stuff, even if you're not really ready to do
stuff."
"Oh my Lord, Uncle Billy are you
afraid to say the word sex?"
"I'm just trying
to—"
"SEX!!" she
shouts to every listening ear in the waiting room. "I'm not ashamed to say
it. Can you?"
"Stop acting like a
child," I say, realizing instantly how condescending and parental that
sounds.
"I am a child,
remember?" She says. "But still eligible to do stuff ."
"You're too young
to have a boy sleep in your bed."
"I'll be 18 in 10
months."
"Thanks for the
calendar update, but right now, you're 17 and too young to have a boy sleeping
in your bed."
"I wasn't trying to
hide him."
"Come again?"
"I wasn't trying to
hide him. He came over last night. You were passed out on the couch when I
would have told you he was staying over—"
" Asked if he
could stay over," I interrupt.
"Whatever. So he
just slept over."
"And woke up
naked."
"He said he was
hot," she says.
"I'm sure he
was," I say, knowing that every boy his age uses that line.
I'm suddenly aware that
the old couple sitting across from us is listening to our every word. And the
black guy with the blood-soaked bandage around his hand is staring at us. And
I'm certain that the people sitting behind us—and Gracie—have heard
it all.
"We didn't do
anything," she says. "We just slept."
I do remember her
getting out of bed in long pants and green shirt.
"It doesn't
matter," I say.
"Why?"
"Because it
doesn't."
"Good reason,"
she says.
I look over a Gracie and
her newly-short hair and think about yesterday's incident. So, my good reason?
Which I dare not say, but is likely clear to everyone—including the black
guy with the bloody hand and the old couple—is that I have no idea what
the hell I'm doing. Gracie is chopping off her own hair. Kendall is sleeping
with her boyfriend in her own bedroom and I'm just the guy counting to three to
release the penis.
I'm not helping these
girls one bit.
Chapter 12
I look at myself in the
bathroom mirror. I examine the bluish rings that hang under my eyes. My beard,
still full, is specked with gray and white. These signs of maturity aren't
welcome. I know I'm not that old. When I look at my parents —now, they
seem old. I seem . . . established in my skin. But not old. I guess age is a
thing that you see differently from different sides of the hill. When I'm in
the park and see two twenty-something kids giving each other goo-goo eyes on a
blanket, I see them as young. If I saw someone doing the same thing at my
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