Chapter 8

Breaking the rules feels great while you're breaking them, but horrible while you're paying for them.

Getting free time here is proving to be nearly impossible. After our classroom discussion, we're led back to our bit-tan and are instructed to pick a bunk and unpack. This is also a bathroom break time, but I'm not going in that place again until I absolutely have to. There really isn't unpacking to do because each of us only has a little cubby to put our stuff in--just big enough to fit my shampoo, conditioner, and makeup bag. I'll just have to live out of my suitcases while I'm here.

Because Jess, Miranda, and I got to the bittan late, Jess and I can't share a bunk. I sit on an unoccupied one.

"That's mine," Tori says, standing over me. "I called it first. You can have the top bunk."

I look around for an empty bottom bunk, but there aren't any left.

"That's fine," I say to Tori, who seems pretty pleased to boss me around. I would argue that I didn't hear her "call it first" or that I'm afraid of heights and I'll probably fall off the top bunk while I sleep, but all I want to do is find Avi. I couldn't care less about Tori and her bottom bunk.

Just when I think free time has begun, it's time for the next activity. Ronit hands out pillows, sheets, and a very thin wool blanket. For the next hour, she teaches us how to make our beds.

We have to keep unsheeting and re-sheeting until we get the A-okay from Ronit that we've finally done it to IDF standards (picture tight hospital corners). I can tell you right now that making tight hospital corners on a top bunk is tons harder than on a bottom bunk.

My bunk is two away from Miranda's and across from Jessica's. I can tell it'll be close to impossible to have private late-night chats.

"Everyone line up outside!" Ronit yells. "Yala, zooz!"

I don't exactly know what "Yala, zooz means, but from her tone I guess it means "Come on, hurry up." I have a feeling I'll be hearing those words a lot while I'm here.

Jess pulls me aside before we go. "Switch bunks with me," she says. "You want a bottom bunk, right?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Well, it's right by the door so you can get fresh air." Jess is already bringing her stuff over to my cubby and switching my stuff out. "Just do it. We've got to hurry and get out outside before they make us do pushups. I hate pushups."

Liron and Ronit time how long it takes until we're all in formation outside. Ronit walks in front of us like a lion pacing in her cage. "It took you fourteen minutes. I think that's the worst I've ever seen!

Next time," she says, "you'll do it in half the time--seven minutes.

And then we'll cut it to three. March in formation to the cheder ocheliot dinner! Ready?" she barks out.

She must not expect us to respond, because immediately she starts chanting the small-yamean-smalls. We're all out of line and out of sequence, bumping into each other. Ronit stops us. She makes us go back to the barracks each time we screw up until we get it right. The guys, who have obviously mastered marching in formation, have been gawking at us the entire time from the entrance to the cheder ochel.

We've attempted to get there six times. We're all getting crabby and tired. The seventh time, we're almost there when I spot Avi.

He's standing by the American guys, watching me. I get so excited and nervous to see him that I totally screw up and step right on the back of Tori's foot, so hard that her shoe comes off.

"Stop!" Ronit says, then sighs in frustration. "Okay, girls. Back to the bittan for another try!"

Tori grabs her shoe. "What a spaz" she mutters.

Is she kidding me? "Oh, like you're so perfect with your marching?"

Tori flips her fake blond hair over her shoulder. "I've been dancing since I was five. I know how to count off."

I don't tell her that I've been dancing since I was four. I want to talk to Avi before he's whisked off so I ignore her. We line up again, and this time I look at the back of Tori's head so I don't mess up. In the end, it takes us thirty-five minutes to walk the three minutes to the cheder ochel.

On our way into the building, I look for Avi again. I spot him talking to other soldiers. While everyone rushes to stuff their faces with mediocre food, I walk up to my boyfriend. "Can we go somewhere private?"

"Amy, I can't."

"What? You can't talk to your girlfriend alone? You can't kiss your girlfriend you haven't seen for five months?"

"If someone catches us--"

"Let's go somewhere alone. For just a minute, Avi. Please."

Before I even finish the word "please," Avi takes my hand and quickly whisks me away to a private alcove on the side of another building without windows. My mom says rules are made to be broken... or at least stretched.

My stomach is in knots, and I tell myself not to be emotional. I'm also very aware that we could be in big trouble if we're caught.

But looking at Avi's face brings me back to the first day I met him.

He was working at the sheep pens on the moshav, lugging bales of hay. I was afraid of the huge herding dogs running toward me so I leaped into the pens for safety. Instead of landing on the soft hay, I landed on Avi. He broke my fall. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into the most mesmerizing eyes I'd ever seen.

Being here with him, alone, makes me forget about rules and regulations. It's times like these I'm happy that I live in the gray areas of life. Being with Avi makes everything that's crappy in my life bearable.

I wrap my arms around his neck. This time he doesn't pull away.

"I missed you so much," I say.

He raises his hand to my cheek and brushes his fingers softly down my face. For such a tough guy, Avis touch has always been super gentle. "I can't resist you," he says softly.

I'm relieved and excited when his lips touch mine. I wrap my arms around his waist and try to ignore the feel of his rifle against my fingers. "When I urge him closer, our kiss gets more heated. As soon as his tongue touches mine, my insides feel like hot, molten lava.

My emotions are running high and I know a tear has escaped from the corner of my eye.

He pulls away a little. "Don't cry."

With the back of my hand, I quickly wipe whatever tears have escaped. "I'm not," I tell him.

He hesitates. "We need to talk. Seriously."

"About what?"

"About you being here. You said you'd be staying at the moshav."

I'm not going to lie to him. What would be the point?

"I'm here to be with you. To see you. To spend time with you."

"This is the military, Amy. I can't spend time with you here like we did last summer. I'm a soldier now."

"Well, now I'm a soldier too. At least for a little while. And we're spending time together right now, aren't we?"

"Zeheruit Gefen," Nimrod calls out, starding me. "Ata holech al chevel dok. n

"Sababa," Avi answers back, then says to me, "I can't do this."

"What did Nimrod just say?" I ask.

"He said I should watch out because I'm walking a thin line."

Nimrod frowns at us. Avi and I both stay silent, ignoring the warning, until Nimrod shrugs and walks away.

"What can't you do?" I finally answer. "Be specific."

Avi rakes his hand through his hair, even though in actuality he's just raking his hand over his growing-out buzz cut. He looks me straight in the eye and says, "I don't want you here."

I think my heart just dropped into the pit of my stomach. "Why not?"

A sound to our right makes Avi tense as he surveys the source of the noise. It's only an American guy from my unit on his way to the bathroom.

"I don't want to upset you, Amy, but... I can't do my job when I have to check up on you, worry about you, or make sure you're okay," he explains when the guy is out of sight. "You're a distraction."

"And what about that Liron girl in your unit? She's a girl. Why aren't you worried or distracted by her?"

"She's not my girlfriend. You are. And she's Israeli-- you're American."

"So if I was Israeli, you'd be fine with me being here?"

"If you were Israeli, you wouldn't have a choice. You'd be required to serve in the military. But you're American."

Yeah, technically. But... "My dad is Israeli, so that makes me half Israeli. And I'm Jewish. I've heard that every Jewish person can automatically get Israeli citizenship just because they're Jewish."

"But you're not Israeli, Amy. Tell me you're okay with trading in your designer sunglasses and designer clothes." He takes my hand in his and looks at my painted nails. "And your pink nails, for dirt buried under your fingernails."

I pull my hand away. "For your information, Avi, I don't even own designer sunglasses." Okay, so technically I owned them a few hours ago, before they fell into the pee/ poop hole in the bathroom. But I'd rather die than admit that fact. "And even though I do have painted nails, and I'd rather be at the beach than learning how to march in formation," I continue, examining my nails and noticing a new chip in my polish on my index finger that I'll have to fix later, "I'm doing this for you... for us."

"Gefen!" a guy yells out. That guy just happens to be none other than Sergeant B-S.

Oh, no! We're totally busted!

Avi straightens and whirls around. "'Ken, Hamefa'ked!' he says, then salutes to the sergeant.

Sergeant B-S barks out some command in Hebrew. Then he says, "Amy, go eat. Don't stop on your way there."

"It's my fault that Avi and I are alone," I tell Sergeant B-S. "I--"

Avi takes my elbow and gives it a gentle squeeze, cutting my explanation short. "Just do as he says. I would make that an order, because I'm a higher rank than you. But I know you better than to do that. So I'll say please."

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble," I tell Avi quickly, then run to the cheder ochel.

Once there, everyone is busy eating dinner. Miranda waves me over. "Amy, over here!" I sit next to her and she pushes a plate full of food at me. "Here. I got you food."

I don't feel like eating, but know I need my strength. I nibble on bread and choke down the Israeli salad (which doesn't have any lettuce--what's up with that? It's just tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions). Every second or two I glance at the door to see if Avi walks in. I wonder how much trouble he's in and wish we could have avoided getting caught altogether.

Five minutes later (which means I checked the front entrance about three hundred times), Avi walks in with the sergeant.

Neither look happy.

Avi s gaze briefly meets mine before he sits with the rest of the Sayeret Tzefa squad.

"Where were you?" Tori says to me from the opposite side of the table.

"In the bathroom," I lie.

"Oh, really? Because I saw you go off with that Israeli guy you hugged this morning and I was worried. I mean, I know the rules state we can get kicked out of the program if we're caught fooling around."

"So you told the sergeant?"

"Oh, no. Actually I told Ronit I was worried something happened to you. Of course she was talking to Sergeant Ben-Shimon at the time." Tori puts her fingers to her lips and sucks in a breath. "I didn't get you in trouble, did I?"

I don't buy her fake concern for a second. I let out a big, hearty chuckle. "No."

Tori is officially a person I will never trust. The girl is as manipulative as this girl Roxanne at my school.

Tori now gestures in the direction of Avi's table. "How do you know him?"

"He's her boyfriend," Miranda informs her cheerily. "They've been dating for a year."

"Wow. A long-distance relationship?"

"Yep," I say.

"So are you guys exclusive or what?"

That's a tricky question. Avi and I agreed to have a don't ask/don't tell policy since we're apart for such long periods of time. If I go on a casual date, I'm not going to tell Avi. He's not going to tell me if he's been on one, either. Avi and I are boyfriend and girlfriend, but we're trying to be realistic about our relationship.

"He's not available, if that's what you're thinking," I say, more defensively than I mean to.

If they weren't aware of it previously, our entire table now knows I'm dating Avi. I try not to glance at him while we're eating, but I can't help it. A few times I catch him looking back at me, but as soon as we make eye contact he breaks it. This is definitely not turning out the way I expected. Has coming here been a huge mistake?

After we're done eating and scrape our plates into the big garbage bins (that don't have liners so I'm not sure how they clean them), we're excused to our barracks. I try to linger, hoping to exchange a few words with Avi, but Ronit comes up to me with a big frown on her face.

"Amy?" she says.

"Yeah."

"Follow me."

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 708