How to Ruin Series Part 80

I stand up. "If I wanted to be insulted, I would have sat next to Nathan. Nice talking to you. Bye."

"Wait!" she says, reaching out to grab the side of my pants. "I was just kidding."

"Do you even know how to be nice?"

I can see Tori perfectly in the light of the fire. Her blond hair s.h.i.+nes like a halo, and her darker hair underneath looks like a protective s.h.i.+eld. She looks up at me and says honestly, "I used to."

So now I feel sorry for her. Her little sincere comments make her vulnerable, which is something we have in common. I sit back down and stare into the fire.

"My parents thought I'd get over my anger about their divorce if I spent time with kids my own age and my own religion." She shakes her head in disgust.

"Parents have no clue what their kids need."

Ha. "You think that's bad? I came on this trip to spend time with Avi. Look where that's gotten me." I gesture to Avi, sitting next to Liron.

"You think that's bad? My dad has a new girlfriend," Tori blurts out. "He says he wasn't dating her before they got divorced, but I'm not stupid."

"That's nothing. My mom dated a new guy every month before my stepfather. She totally had dating ADD. Then she got married and pregnant all in a year. I'm afraid she'll get parent ADD and not want the kid ... or Marc."

"As long as we're playing Whose Life Sucks More? , I can one-up you yet again.

My parents just got divorced and my dad already cancels the weekends he's supposed to have me. My mom hopes he moves away and never comes back so she doesn't have to deal with him. But that's not what I want. I just wish ... I just wish things could go back to the way they were."

I gaze longingly at Avi. "I do, too." I sigh, resigned to living in the real world.

Jess groans as she sits down next to us.

"Where have you been, Cleo?" I ask my best friend.

"Cleo? Wait, what happened to your chin? Did George the Zit spread?"

"No. While you were being carried like Cleopatra on the stretcher, the real wounded-me-finished the run bandaged up like Frankenstein."

"Yeah, well I just puked my guts out.

Did you ever realize how much vertigo you can get lying on a stretcher bouncing up and down like a frickin' basketball? I had a death grip on the sides the entire time. I seriously thought I was gonna bounce right off."

Miranda, who I just notice is sitting on the other side of Tori, leans forward. "I'm sick of hearing you guys be all negative. I want each of you to say something positive."

Positive? I point to my gauzed-up forearms, gesture to my b.l.o.o.d.y chin and then to Avi talking to Liron, and then, as the cherry on top of my miserable life, I lift up my bangs to show off George the Zit.

"Say something, Amy," Miranda insists.

"Something positive. I'm sure it'll make you feel better."

"Okay, Miranda. I've got it." I motion the girls to lean in close to hear my positive words. "At least I'm not dead."

How's that for positivity?

I have to admit it does make me feel better.

19.

Physical strength is needed for obstacle courses, but mental strength is needed when being close to your ex-boyfriend.

Tori plops herself down on my cot during a fifteen-minute break the next day. "I hear we're sleeping in the desert at some point."

"Why would we do that when we live in such luxury right here?" I gesture at the bulging springs above me.

"Maybe they want to toughen us up."

"Oh, please. I'm tough enough. Any tougher and I'll grow b.a.l.l.s and a hairy chest."

As if the thought of sleeping in the desert at night isn't scary enough, Ronit is leading us to the activity Avi warned me about.

Shooting an M16 rifle.

So now we're all standing in line, waiting to be issued a big rifle.

"I'm afraid of guns," I say, but n.o.body seems to be listening to me. They're all too excited. I guess it wouldn't hurt to hold the thing.

I have to sign for it and check that the serial number of the issued weapon, written next to my name, matches the actual number on the rifle. I can almost feel t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es growing between my legs as it's handed to me (I'm kidding, of course ...

about the t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es growing between my legs, not about being handed my very own weapon).

"Do you have any colors besides black?" I ask the guy handing out the guns.

"Are you kidding?"

"Of course I'm kidding. Although I wouldn't mind a pink one to match my luggage." The guy shakes his head and I think he mumbles something like American princess, but I can't be sure.

You should see the American boys in our unit as they're given their weapons. By the GI Joe expressions on their faces, you'd think they were just handed a Man Badge.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Nathan jokes when we're standing under a canopy at the range, waiting for further instructions.

"Don't annoy me, Nathan. I have a gun."

Of course it's big and bulky and warm from the summer sun. I sling it over my shoulder, feeling every bit of a soldier now. I definitely look the part.

"It's not loaded," Nathan responds dryly.

After handing us safety goggles and earm.u.f.fs, Sergeant B-S brings out a big box full of metal "magazines" and shows us how to insert the empty magazine into the bottom of the rifle. We've learned about the parts of the M16 and the different types of bullets in the cla.s.sroom. Weapons safety has been drilled into my head.

Rules of gun safety in a non-combat environment: 1. Never point the weapon at a person, and always point it in a safe direction 2. Don't put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to shoot the weapon 3. Keep the weapon unloaded until you're ready to use it After loading their magazines with bullets and shoving them into their weapons, Avi and Liron lie on their stomachs in front of canvas sandbags, with one leg straight and the other leg bent for support. With their rifles resting on the sandbags, they aim for the paper target in front of them and ...

bang!

When they get up and we're ordered into position on the range for dry firing- shooting without bullets, that is-I raise my hand.

Nimrod comes over to help. "Amy, what's the problem?"

"I'm not sure I can do this. I'm not really a gun person."

He laughs. "That's a good joke. Hey, Gefen! Come here!"

Avi jogs over to us. "What's going on?"

"Amy here says she's not a gun person."

"You'll be shooting a target, Amy. Not people," Avi says.

"Yeah, I get that, but ... I'm afraid of the kickback, or sidekick or whatever you call it, and the noise. I have sensitive ears."

"It's called recoil." Nimrod rolls his eyes. "Gefen, you deal with your girlfriend."

"We're not dating anymore!" I call after Nimrod as he hurries off to help someone else.

Avi lifts the earm.u.f.fs off my ears. "No need to shout. Can we be friends today?"

"Sure," I say, putting the earm.u.f.fs back in place. "Friends. "

Avi crouches. "Lie down."

I lie on the ground and rest the rifle on the sandbag. Avi checks the weapon, making sure the bullet chamber thingy is empty.

"There's no recoil in dry firing," he a.s.sures me. "Now move the lever from safe to semi. Make sure it's never on auto or you'll empty that magazine with one trigger pull."

I move the toggle to semi. Then I double and triple check it to make sure I didn't accidentally move it to auto. That would not be fun.

"Now settle the hand guard of the weapon into the V between your thumb and forefinger on your non-firing hand." He gently takes my knee and slides it up so it's bent. "Bending one knee gives you more support. Aim at your target through the sight guide. When you're ready, put your finger on the trigger."

"Avi?"

"Yeah?"

I look up at him. "I'm embarra.s.sed to say this, because I really am against killing and guns. But I'm kind of getting a rush from this. I feel powerful with a gun this big in my hands."

"Wait to say that until after you sleep with it tonight."

"Huh?"

"Soldiers sleep with their gun every night they're on base or on duty. Come on, stop stalling. Aim at your target, control your breathing, and squeeze the trigger after you exhale."

I look through the sight thingy, aim at my paper target, and pull the trigger.

"Good. Do it again."

I keep dry firing until Sergeant B-S comes around and tells us all to put the rifles on safe mode.

We're told to fill our magazines with ten bullets and push the magazine into the rifle.

"When you're ready, switch to the semi position and fire one at a time until your magazine is empty," Sergeant B-S instructs us.

I get back in position and line up the sights with my target, but I'm too nervous to shoot. I hear everyone else firing their guns on either side of me. Listen, disasters happen to me wherever I go, and I can't keep random thoughts from running through my head. What if the M16 misfires? What if the sh.e.l.l of the bullet hits me when it's ejected and burns my scalp as it lands on my head? What if the recoil dislocates my shoulder?

"I can tell you're thinking too much,"

Avi says, appearing beside me again.

He lies on the ground, his body next to mine. I have to remind myself not to think about Avi and focus on the gun.

"I'm afraid of the recoil."

"You're lying down, so you won't feel so much of it. Line up your target," he tells me.

I line up the paper that seems way too far away for me to hit with a bullet less than the width of my pinky finger. "Done."

He places his fingers over mine.

They're strong and soft and I wish my body wouldn't tingle with excitement from him being near me. I'm so afraid that I'll never be able to fully get over him.

"Ready?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and control my breathing. Unfortunately, my pulse is racing. But that's because Avi's body is pressed up against mine. His strong hands on mine remind me of the times he touched me intimately. I try and put those thoughts out of my mind as I say, "Ready."

"Exhale. Hold it ... " His finger presses on mine and the rifle fires. The recoil definitely pushes my shoulder back, but not as hard or as bad as I feared.

"You okay?"

I pick up my head, now just a few inches away from Avi's. "Oh. My. G.o.d. That was awesome !"

"Just a few minutes ago you said you weren't a gun person."

"I'm not. You know, when they're used for aggression or war. But just shooting a target is so cool."

Avi scratches his temple as if he isn't quite sure how to say what he's about to say. "Umm ... I hate to break the news to you, but you didn't actually hit your target.

You hit Jessica's. Her bullet went left of her target and ended up in the haystacks."

I lean back and watch as Jessica brags about hitting her target. She a.n.a.lyzes her precision with the range binoculars as if she's a sharpshooter.

"Oh. Maybe this time I shouldn't shut my eyes when I pull the trigger."