Tully

Tom made some kind of a noise. Tully continued in the same helpful tone. ‘And did you know, Tom, that not only can’t we drink even beer, but we can’t drink hard liquor until we’re twenty-one?’

Tom methodically rubbed his hands together.

‘But that’s neither here nor there, Tom,’ Tully went on. ‘What is here and there, though, is that I distinctly remember seeing you at a twenty-one-and-over club last summer, swilling those twenty-one-and-over cocktails down with an incredible twenty-one-and-over speed –’ Tully saw Julie’s astounded face.

‘Oh,’ Tully said quickly. ‘My mistake.’ She looked at Julie. ‘Ha! Must have been someone else. So many tall, skinny, freckled guys around. Of course. I’m wrong. Silly me, huh, Jule?’

‘Yes,’ said Julie, glaring at Tully. ‘Silly you.’

Moving away from them, Tully took a beer and peeked at herself in the mirror. My first party without Aunt Lena in a year and a half and look what I’m wearing. She sneaked a glance at the good-looking boy with the bimbo. He must’ve heard all that entire exchange with Tomboy. Yeah, but look how I look. Who cares what comes out of my mouth when I look like this? Tully wanted to speak with Jennifer before disappearing into the bathroom, but Jennifer was all over the place, in, out, in, out. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Tully was mildly surprised. Jennifer was usually a wallflower.

Propped up by a piece of furniture, Tully stood alone for a few minutes. Julie and Tom were kissing. Tully fought an impulse to roll her eyes. Tom held Julie with his right hand and a beer with his left. Well, I guess he’s eighteen, he can do those things, Tully thought. They weren’t the only ones kissing. The lap bimbo was making out with the cute guy.

Tully went over and sat by Julie.

‘What’s the matter?’ Julie asked.

‘Nothing. I want to dance.’

‘Let’s go.’

Tully rubbed her forehead. ‘Are there a lot of footballers?’

‘So many!’ Julie said. ‘You’re in luck.’

Tully ignored her. ‘Did Jennifer’s friend come?’

‘I think so. I haven’t been watching her every minute.’

‘Where is he?’ asked Tully.

‘Downstairs, I think.’

‘They spend much time together?’

‘Dunno,’ said Julie.

Tully shook her head. ‘How strange, don’t you think, Jule? I mean, don’t most girls like guys in the image of their fathers?’ Tully looked derisively at Tom.

Tom sat up straight. Julie laughed uncomfortably.

‘What kind of guys do you go for, Tully?’ he asked. ‘Do you go for guys who look just like your father?’

Julie stopped laughing.

Tully skipped one beat – but only one. ‘I don’t like to limit myself, Tom. I like all guys, but you should know better than most what kind I don’t like, am I right?’ said Tully. ‘Or am I wrong again?’

Julie was now glaring at Tully and at Tom.

Tom looked the other way, mumbling, ‘Oh, I’m sure you like all guys, I’m sure.’

Tully got up and walked out of the room.

‘Tom!’

‘Julie, calm down.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘What did I say?’

Julie leaned close and screamed at him over the Stones, who were screaming they could get no satisfaction. ‘I’m sorry I ever told you anything about my friends, you shit!’

Tully, at this time, was demonstrating her offended feelings by pinching Jennifer’s behind on the way to the bathroom.

She locked herself in and looked around. Whether she needed to or not, Tully always made sure she visited the Mandolini bathroom at least once. Their entire house was neat and well kept, but the best, cleanest, prettiest, most organized room in the house was undoubtedly the bathroom. Spacious and gleaming, it had spotless white tiles with roses and daisies on them, an ivory white carpet, mirrors on all four walls, chrome taps, soft pink bulbs, blush-pink carnations, fresh-smelling towels and shower curtain. Unlike the Makker household, where everything in their gray bathroom smelled of diseased mildew, the Mandolini bathroom smelled not like seaweed but like the sea. Not that I have any idea what the sea smells like, thought Tully, looking in the mirror.

Her face was puffy. No amount of makeup, no matter how diligently applied, could hide that in the harsh light. She turned off the fluorescent and turned on the soft pink. Ah, that’s better, she thought. Now I just look a bit…fuzzy. Oh, well. She opened her big bag (Mary Poppins called hers a ‘carpetbag,’ but even Mary would’ve been surprised to find what lurked in Tully’s) and took out her makeup case. She put on another layer of cake powder, added another hue of black to her eyes; Tully liked her eyes, her eyes were all right. A shadow of all colors. Yes. Oh, but her dress! She couldn’t have looked more frumpy in Aunt Lena’s nightgown. She retrieved out of her bag a thin black polyester skirt, with a zipper at the front, a slit in the back, and a length of about ten inches.

She quickly slipped out of her skirt and shirt and tried to stuff them into her bag, but they were much too bulky, sort of like squeezing a brick through a keyhole, and so she ended up dropping them into the hamper.

‘Jule, I’m sorry, don’t be mad,’ Tom was saying in the meantime. ‘I can’t help it that she rubs me the wrong way.’

‘And what the hell did she mean about that twenty-one club anyway?’

‘I don’t know what she meant,’ Tom said.

‘What club was she talking about?’

‘Julie, how should I know? She’s got me mixed up with someone else. She knows a lot of men, believe me.’

‘How the hell do you know?’

Tom giggled awkwardly. ‘Julie! She’s got a re-pu-tation.’

‘How the hell do you know? What does that have to do with anything? And who are you? The Pope?’

‘Look,’ Tom said. ‘Everyone in school knows.’

Julie got up. ‘Tom, you’re gonna have to stop this. You’re gonna have to stop talking about Tully that way. As long as me and you are together, you’re just gonna have to be nice to her, just gonna have to.’

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Because,’ Julie said, ‘I can always get another boyfriend.’

‘Oh, that’s delightful,’ Tom said. Julie became silent.

‘What is it, Tom? What is it? You have something personal against her, or what?’