8
When we were younger, Izzie and I often played fantasy games, with silly plots where we became other people. Both of us had great imaginations. When we played office, Izzie was always the boss, and I was always her secretary. We used an old blue manual typewriter Adele had given us. When we played doctor, Izzie was always the patient because she liked the attention. We played Teachers, Bartenders, Real Estate Agents, Accountants… even Mommies. As we grew older, the games were less and less. But one Izzie still liked to play was Bartender. When her parents went out every few weeks for a date night, Izzie always took the opportunity to raid their liquor cabinet.
One warm night in the middle of July, she was serving raspberry punch with vodka. She said it was the bar’sDrink of the Day. Raspberry Beret,she called it, after the Prince song her mom listened to constantly.
“You know,” I said, drink in hand. “I was looking at myself yesterday and I think I’m getting boobs.” I sat up and arched my back, anxious for her feedback. “What do you think?”
“Well I don’t really see… anything.” She drained her drink and made herself another one. “My mom says you can’t have boobs until you get your period. Did you get it?”
I pouted. “Nope. Not yet.”
“You’re a late bloomer, Abby,” she said matter-of-factly. “It will happen.”
“Well, it better happen soon.”
She handed me another drink. I was already feeling a little fuzzy, but I didn’t want to look like a lightweight. Izzie was technically supposed to be babysitting Abe, so she certainly shouldn’t have been drinking. But Abe was having a blast, drinking raspberry punch (without the vodka, of course) out of a wine glass.
“Did you know… there are eighty-six-thousand-four-hundred seconds in a day,” he told me knowingly.
“Wow… how did you know that? You’re just a tiny kid.”
“I did the math on my calculator,” he clarified. “I love my new calculator.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
“My little brother.” Izzie smirked. “He’s the only smart one in the family. We think he may have been switched at birth.”
I covered Abe’s ears. “Shhhh,” I whispered. “You’re going to give him the wrong idea.”
“Let’s go for a walk,” she suddenly blurted. That was Izzie’s way. She’d often suggest crazy outings out of the blue.
“I think I’m too buzzed to walk properly,” I confessed.
“You’re fine.” She pulled me by the arm. “C’mon, we’re going for a walk, Abe.”
Abe followed eagerly, excited as can be.
We slipped into our sneakers and pulled on hoodies and headed out. I don’t remember what we were talking about but we were laughing our heads off.
We were quiet as we passed my place, careful not to alert my dad or brothers, not that they would have cared much anyway.
When we got to Gavin’s place, we spotted him on his deck, a beer in hand, Magnum lying at his feet. I wanted to walk right by, but Izzie had other ideas. “Hey, handsome,” she called out.
I buried my face in my hands, already mortified.
She pulled me along and headed straight for him. “What aaare you up to… out… this late?” she asked, her slurred speech not hiding what we’d been up to.
He smiled and glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight, girls. You shouldn’t be out this late. Especially with the boy.”
I glanced in Abe’s direction, feeling absolutely foolish, and completely irresponsible. Gavin was right. Abe should have been in bed, tucked into his Spiderman sheets, sleeping, not prancing around with us at this hour.
Gavin stood. “Should I be calling your parents?”
“You’re so not cool,” Izzie whined. She inched closer and stood as tall as she could, but her five foot five frame was no match for his, well over six feet. “My parents are out, and I’m in charge,” she said seductively. “You can come over if you want.”
He stepped back a foot or two. “Why, Miss Izzie. That’s an excellent idea.”
I was completely taken aback. He was going to take her up on her offer?
