Chapter 6

Avoid public humiliation at all costs -- especially in front of your boyfriend.

I whirl around to see Avi. He's a few yards away, walking toward me. His face is tan and his profile is chiseled like a Roman statue.

His hair is a little grown out from his buzz cut. He's so hot and sexy I can't help but stare in awe at my boyfriend who professed his love to me in letters (yes, he actually sits down and writes actual letters to me when he can't call), and in voicemail messages he left when he visited me in Chicago. I've saved them all and listen to them every time I need to hear his voice. Not being able to hold myself still any longer, I catapult forward and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Avi!" I cry into his chest. "Are you surprised?" "Very." He gently takes my wrists and unwinds them

from around his neck. He salutes the sergeant, who says something in Hebrew. Avi answers.

So this is a time when I wish I knew Hebrew. I take Spanish. A few months ago I told my dad to stop speaking to me in English and only speak to me in Hebrew. That lasted about an hour, because I wanted to rip my hair out from not understanding him and got annoyed by his hand gestures when he pointed to objects, trying to give me hints. I wanted to learn Hebrew, not play charades.

Avi looks down at me. "We can't talk now."

Beside me, Nathan is tense. The last time I was reunited with Avi, back in January when he came to Chicago, he'd caught Nathan with his arm around my shoulders. It was not a happy time in our relationship, especially when Avi found out a few days later that Nathan and I had kissed in the cafeteria at school in front of half of the Chicago Academy student body.

But that was a long time ago. I'm here in Israel now, standing in front of my boyfriend who's in the Israeli military until he's at least twenty-one. Avi is wearing a sand-colored uniform, unlike most of the soldiers on the base who are wearing olive green. All of us Americans are still in our regular clothes, so we look out of place among the real soldiers.

"I know we can't talk right this second," I tell Avi. "But after I learn how to do the marching thing, do you have any free time so we can be alone? Just you and me."

"Amy, we can't go anywhere alone. It's against base rules."

"But I'm your girlfriend, not some random?

I hear snickers behind Avi. Leaning so I can see who's behind him, I notice Nimrod standing with four guys and a girl all in sand-colored uniforms like Avis. The girl is covering her mouth to suppress her giggle. She's not wearing a stitch of makeup on her perfectly flawless skin, has long sandy blond hair with natural streaks in it tied up in a ponytail, and is really tall. To add insult to injury, she's got normal-sized, perfect boobs. I bet they stand at attention without a bra, while (as my mother always reminds me) God blessed me with boobs that need a little help being lifted.

I feel like an ogre next to this Israeli girl.

I would give her my famous sneer, but she's got a rifle so I figure it's in my best interest not to piss her off. I then notice they all have big rifles strapped to their backs. Avi does too.

Guns scare me. Especially big ones with bullets in them.

"Attention!" Sergeant B-S barks at me. I stand next to Nathan with my hands stiffly at my sides. We're still in front of everyone, so I guess our punishment for talking isn't over. This sucks.

The sergeant says something to Avi and his posse, then they all stand back and watch. "Ready," the sergeant says to Nathan and me. It's not a question.

Ready or not, I'm about to march. In front of the rest of my unit, and in front of Avi and his friends.

"Small.

Small.

Small-yamean-small.

Small

Small.

Small-yamean-small. n Nathan and I follow the sergeant as we demonstrate how to march. I'm all too aware of Avis gaze on me, and I want to die from embarrassment because I'm royally screwing up. I'm smalling on the ya'means and ya'meaning on the smalls. It's not that I'm uncoordinated. I'm just nervous.

Glancing sideways, I catch sight of Avi. I can't tell what he's thinking because he's got a composed, soldier like expression.

As my eyes meet Avi's, I stumble into the sergeant, who must have stopped and barked stopping orders while I was still smalling and yameaning. "Oops," I say as my nose bumps his back. Actually, my boobs bumped him first because they're a gazillion times bigger than my nose, but I hope nobody noticed.

"B'amakom atz'or means you stop." Ronit clues me in.

"Got it. Thanks." I salute her because I want to be all military-like, but the saluting just brings more snickers from Avi's friends until he glares at them.

Oh, God, I hope he's not ashamed of me. What if his feelings for me changed since he came to visit back in January? What if he likes the gorgeous streaked-blond girl with the big rifle?

That very girl whispers to my boyfriend, then looks in my direction.

Avi nods. Our eyes meet again, and I wish I could speak telepathically. But he just keeps up that stern military expression.

It's driving me nuts.

I've seen Avi smile and laugh. I've made Avi smile and laugh.

Ronit calls out, "Girls, follow me! Guys, follow Susu!"

While we're scrambling to obey, Avi is at my side. The warmth of his fingers on my elbow sends shivers down my spine.

"What are you doing here?" he asks me. "I thought you were staying on the moshav with your dad."

"I was. Until I realized Jess and Miranda and Nathan were going to be on the same base as you. I thought you'd be happy to see me. Obviously I was wrong."

"Gefen, zooz," the sergeant barks out.

Avi turns his head to the sergeant, who doesn't look happy that Avi's talking to me. "I gotta go."

"So go," I say sarcastically. Okay, I know I'm acting like a complete brat but seriously... I came all the way to Israel and signed up to play soldier for ten days just to be with him, and he doesn't seem the least bit excited to see me.

"Amy..." he says, but I shrug his hand off me.

"Go," I repeat.

He sighs and walks away.

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 647