Molly is five years younger than me and from an early age, she loved helping Aunt Claire out in the kitchen. Right now she’s in school full-time earning her degree in Culinary Arts so she can be a pastry chef for one of Aunt Claire’s stores.
“It’s midterms week. I only have to go to class for my tests. So, remind me again why you’re taking a knife with you to meet Gavin? I don’t think gutting him like a fish will convince him that he loves you,” Molly says with a laugh.
“No, but hopefully slashing my tires will.”
Molly shakes her head at me. “I still don’t understand how you could possibly be in love with Gavin. I mean, this is GAVIN we’re talking about. He used to take the heads off of all of our Barbie’s and then staple them to the ceiling. And you two used to fight constantly when we were kids. How many times did Mom and Aunt Claire have to break you guys up before you killed each other?”
She’s right. We hated each other as kids. I don’t even know why we didn’t like each other. Every time we were in the same room together, someone wound up crying.
“That dress looks funny on you,” Gavin told me, grabbing my favorite I can be a teacher Barbie from my hands and then throwing it across the room.
“You’re a dumb stupid head. Go pick up my Barbie right now,” I said with a stomp of my foot.
“You’re such a baby. I can’t believe you called me a dumb stupid head,” Gavin replied with a laugh.
“I’m not a baby. YOU’RE a baby!” I shouted.
“I’m nine. That’s practically an adult.”
“Fine, then you’re dumb stupid adult!” I yelled angrily.
“You’re a labia,” Gavin replied.
“What’s a labia? That’s dumb.”
Gavin shrugged. “I heard it the other day. My mom said it’s a rare fish that no one ever talks about.”
“I want a labia,” I told him.
“You can’t have a labia. You ARE a labia. Labia face,” he said, turning his back on me and walking away.
I was so angry that I hurtled my six-year-old body at him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, tackling him to the ground.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH MY NUTS!” Gavin screamed in pain as we crashed to the floor and he flung me off of him.
I stood up quickly and stared down at him angrily.
“You’re mean. I don’t like you.”
Gavin scrambled up off of the ground and before I knew it, he charged at me and slammed his head into my hip, knocking us both back on the ground.
We were both screaming and crying when my mom and Aunt Liz came running into the room.
“What the hell is going on?” Aunt Claire shouted as she picked Gavin up off of the floor and my mom helped me up.
“SHE HURT MY NUTS!” Gavin cried, pointing at me.
“HE CRASHED HIS HEAD INTO MY NOO-NOO-COW!” I wailed, holding my hands between my legs.
“Jesus God. He head-butted her in the vagina,” my mom muttered.
“I hope these two get married some day or this is just going to get worse,” Aunt Claire replied.
Opening the door, I lift up my arm and wave good-bye to Molly with the knife. “Wish me luck. If this flat tire thing doesn’t work, I might have to punch him in the nuts.”
“I have no idea what that means, but have fun with that. Bring me home some mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
Thirty minutes later, after I called Gavin and told him my dilemma, I’m standing next to my car on the side of the road listening to the hiss of the air leaving the tire. I may have been a little overzealous in my stabbing. There’s no way Gavin is going to believe my car just got a flat on its own. He’s a guy. Guys know these things. I don’t have time to worry about that, though. I see his car pulling off the side of the road right behind mine. Leaning against the hood, I try to look as sexy as possible. Rocco suggested I pretend like I’m in a porno. Ultimate guy fantasy: a woman having car problems on the side of the road.
Gavin gets out of his car and walks up to me with a smile. “Flat tire, huh?”
Shit. He already knows. Time to distract him.
“Hey there, handsome. I could use a little help pumping myself back up,” I tell him in my best Marilyn Monroe voice.
Gavin looks at me quizzically. “Are you getting sick? You’re voice sounds funny.”
Fucking Rocco.
Clearing my throat, I turn away from him and walk up to the front tire. “I don’t know what happened. I was driving home when all of a sudden I had a hard time steering. My car was swerving all over the place. I was so scared.”
Gavin glances down at the tire, then back up at me and doesn’t say a word.
Son of a bitch! Do cars lose control when they get a flat tire?? I should have googled it.
“Aww, you’re okay now. It’s totally normal. Cars always do that with a flat tire,” Gavin tells me.
Oh thank God.
“So, do you want a lift home or something?” he asks.
“Uh, I kind of thought you could just change the tire,” I tell him.
Gavin nods his head. “Right, right. Change the tire. I can totally do that.”
He turns and walks around me, opening up the door to the backseat and sticking his head in.
“What are you doing?”
Pulling his head back out, he turns and looks at me. “Changing the tire.”