Chocoholics: Love And Lists Part 2

"You shouldn't have puke-hair. Wine puke doesn't wash out easily. I use Herbal Essence and it smells like strawberries," I mumble.

All of the beer I've consumed under the blazing sun this afternoon, mixed with my mortification that I still haven't let go of Charlotte's hair, is starting to make me feel queasy.

"Drew, pull my hair," Jenny demands.

"Babe, I can't pull your hair. Pulling your hair makes me want to have s.e.x with you. I pulled a hammy last night when we were on the swing set, remember?" Drew complains.

"Drew, seriously. Over share," my mom complains with a roll of her eyes.

"Should I escort him out for you, Claire?" Tyler asks my mom in a concerned voice.

Oh Jesus, here it comes. I'm going to puke.

Finally letting go of Charlotte's hair, I jump up from my seat and run down the stairs of the deck, over to the bushes on the side of the house, and empty my stomach of beer and shame.

A few seconds later, I feel a hand patting me on my back as I heave. When I feel comfortable that no more vomit is going to come out, I stand up and turn around.

"Are you done, or is there more? Want me to hold your hair back?" Tyler asks with a laugh.

"How about some ginger ale? Or some dry toast? Maybe I should take your temperature," mom says as she fusses over me and feels my forehead.

My mom and I have always been unusually close. And no, I'm not talking Norman Bates and his mom close. That's just sick. I think it's because she was a single mother for the first four years of my life. Or it could be that when I was little she used to joke all the time about how she hated kids. I think sometimes she overcompensates trying to make up for all of those jokes by doting on me now that I'm an adult.

"Mom, I'm fine. Really. It was probably just something I ate." The lie easily flows from my mouth as I swat her hand away from my head.

"I'm actually not feeling so hot myself, Claire. I could use a sponge bath," Tyler tells her.

"How about I take your temperature with a rectal thermometer the size of my fist?" Mom threatens.

"I'm strangely aroused right now," Tyler muses.

"Do you want me to throw up again?" I ask him angrily with a punch to his arm.

After my awesome projectile vomiting skills in the shrubbery, the party had started to disperse and Charlotte left with Rocco to go to dinner, explaining she would have invited me to come but she was afraid I might be contagious and she didn't want to get sick.

Super. Now she thinks I'm a leper.

We're sitting in Liz and Jim's kitchen while everyone else is outside cleaning up. I had come in here to get some peace and quiet and to get away from Uncle Drew so he would stop asking me if I could puke on command because he was sad he missed the show, and my mom and Tyler followed me in here to check on me. My mortification level is at an ultimate high right now. There's nothing else that could possibly make this day any worse.

"You know, if you want Charlotte to realize you're in love with her, pulling her hair and throwing up in her parents' bushes probably wasn't the best idea," Mom informs me.

I take that back. THIS could possibly make my day worse. Much worse.

"Oh my gosh, what?! What are you talking about? I'm not in love with Charlotte. You're insane. Where would you get that idea? That's just crazy. It's nonsense. Preposterous! She's like my sister. We used to take baths together."

If you ramble enough, people will think what you're saying is true, right?

"Yes, and you used to stand up in the middle of the tub and say, 'Hey, Charlotte, look at my big wiener!' I hope that's not what your next plan of attack is," Mom says with a serious look on her face.

Note to self: remove number five from The List.

"I'm not going to show her my wiener!"

"I really think you should show her your wiener. I'm not taking it off of the list," Tyler adds.

Everyone needs to stop saying wiener right the f.u.c.k now!

"Did someone say wiener? What list? What's everyone talking about?" Aunt Liz asks as she walks into the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes that she piles in the sink.

"A list to get Charlotte to realize Gavin's in love with her," Tyler tells her.

"Dude! Shut the f.u.c.k up!" I yell.

"Oh thank G.o.d. It's about time you do something about it. I thought your mother and I were going to be old and gray before you manned the f.u.c.k up," Aunt Liz says as she walks over to the table and takes a seat next to my mom.

My mom and Aunt Liz have been best friends for all my life and for a lot of years before that. They've been through everything together, and sometimes I think they share a brain. It's hard to believe they aren't sisters with the way they fight. They talk more s.h.i.t to each other than a book with "your mother is so fat" jokes in it.

"I think I'm going to wear blue to the wedding. I saw this gorgeous dress on sale at Macy's the other day. I think I have a coupon," Mom tells Liz.

"Oh h.e.l.l no! I already told you I was going to wear blue, you wh.o.r.e. You can't wear the same color as me, that's tacky," Liz complains.

Oh my G.o.d, this is not happening right now.

"f.u.c.k your mother. I'm wearing blue. I already found my dress," Mom argues.

"I'm the mother of the bride. The mother of the f.u.c.king bride! That means it's up to me!" Liz fires back.

"Claire, I think you would look lovely in blue," Tyler pipes in.

Mom turns to face Tyler and folds her arms on top of the table. "When I'm finished neutering you, I'm going to take your tiny little neuticles and light them on fire."

Putting my elbows on the table and my head in my hands, I try to tune out the conversation going on around me. How in the h.e.l.l do my mom and Liz know I'm in love with Charlotte? How is this possible? And if they know, does Charlotte know? She can't know. There's no way.

"You should probably take hair pulling off of the list. Charlotte never even liked it when I brushed her hair when she was little. She has a sensitive head," Liz informs me.

"You should buy her flowers."

"Or jewelry. Women love getting jewelry."

"I never cared much for jewelry. I was happy if he just remembered to put the toilet seat down."

"True. Put down the toilet seat. Ooooh, make her a mix tape! Those are always fun."

"Nineteen-eighty-five called, they want their idea back."

"Suck my d.i.c.k."

"This is better than watching p.o.r.n," Tyler whispers in awe as my mom and Liz go back and forth.

"Can we all just stop talking about this right now? I am not in love with her, I'm not making her a mix tape, and we're not getting married," I tell them, finally looking up from the table.

"You're not in love with who? Are you dating someone now?"

Whipping around in my chair, I see Charlotte standing in the kitchen doorway with a look of horror on her face. Of course all of the idiots in the room with me choose NOW to not say anything, and the silence drags on for so long that I feel like I might puke again.

"Gavin? Are you seeing someone?" she asks again.

I should just tell her now. Tell her that there could never possibly be anyone else because I've been in love with her since I was six. Tell her that she's beautiful and sweet and amazing and I want to spend the rest of my life loving her.

But I don't. I sit here with my mouth open like a tool.

"Dude, didn't he tell you? He met this totally hot chick at a bar a few weeks ago. Seriously, we're talking super model hot. And she used to be a gymnast so she's real bendy. Nice girl. Huge rack."

I don't know what the f.u.c.k Tyler is saying right now, and I can't even do anything to stop him because I'm frozen in my seat. Charlotte looks like I did an hour ago when I jumped up and ran off the deck. She looks sick to her stomach and like she might cry at any second. She's probably completely disgusted with me right now. I pulled her hair, puked in her lawn, and now I'm dating a pretend woman with big b.o.o.bs.

"What are you doing back so soon? I thought you and Rocco were going to dinner," Aunt Liz asks, and Charlotte finally looks away from me and goes over to the sink to pour herself a gla.s.s of water.

"We just got something quick. One of his friends called when we were finishing up and asked him to go shoe shopping, so I just had him drop me off," Charlotte tells her as she polishes off her water and puts the gla.s.s in the sink.

"I'm sorry, did you just say your boyfriend ditched you to go shoe shopping?" my mom asks her.

Charlotte sighs and crosses her arms in front of her. "He didn't ditch me. I told him he could go because I was tired."

"You don't really mean shoe shopping right? You meant to say shopping for sports equipment or a new surround sound system, right?" Aunt Liz asks.

"He told us his favorite book of all time was Under the Rainbow: The Real Liza Minnelli. I'm pretty sure shoe shopping would be right up his alley," Mom reminds her.

"Has Rocco gotten the memo yet that he's gay?" Aunt Liz questions her.

Tyler starts laughing hysterically and reaches his hand up to fist-b.u.mp my aunt.

"Seriously, Mom? Are you judging him? That's really low," Charlotte complains.

"I'm not judging him. Some of the best people I've ever met are gay. I just don't particularly want my daughter dating someone who's gay."

Charlotte stomps her foot and growls at Liz, and I have to tell myself not to get too excited. I love seeing her get fired up. Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes sparkle. Now is NOT the time to get a b.o.n.e.r.

"He is NOT gay! He's just ... he's in touch with his feminine side."

Tyler snorts and Charlotte shoots an angry look in his direction.

"Honey, he doesn't have a feminine side. He has a v.a.g.i.n.a," Aunt Liz informs her.

Before Charlotte can go completely ape s.h.i.t on her mother, a loud banging sound comes from the living room followed by a bunch of cursing. A few seconds later, Aunt Jenny walks in with a scowl on her face.

"You really need to get that French door to the backyard fixed, Liz. All the humility has made it stick and it doesn't open very easily."

"Ahhhh yes, the humility in the air. We've humbled the door into not opening for people," Aunt Liz replies.

"I'm going to bed. Gavin, don't forget we're all going out tomorrow night. Make sure to invite this new girlfriend of yours so I can meet her," Charlotte says as she walks behind me and pats me on the shoulder before she leaves the room.

I hold my breath until I hear the click of her heels taper off down the hallway and the door to her bedroom close.

Turning around in my seat, I smack Tyler in the arm once again.

"Owww! What the f.u.c.k was that for?!"

"Girlfriend? Supermodel hot? Bendy?" I whisper through clenched teeth.

"The bendy part was a bit overkill, but it totally worked. She was insanely jealous," Aunt Liz says with a nod of her head.

She wasn't jealous. We're friends. Best friends. She's irritated because she found out about it from Tyler in a room full of people instead of directly from me. When she started dating Rocco, she sat me down and told me, just like a good friend does. I should have taken her aside alone and told her about my girlfriend.

Oh my G.o.d, what the f.u.c.k am I saying? I don't have a girlfriend!

"Gavin, you have a girlfriend?! Oh my gosh that's so exciting! I have condoms in my purse if you need them. They're the kind with insecticide so they totally work," Aunt Jenny tells me.

"Spermicide, Jenny. Spermicide. Sweet Jesus," Aunt Liz complains.

"Gavin's c.o.c.k has roaches, pa.s.s it on!" Tyler laughs.

"It's all fun and games until you a.s.sholes start talking about my son having s.e.x. Gavin doesn't need condoms," Mom informs everyone.

"Are you ready to be Nana Claire right now? Because I'm too young and pretty to be Gammy Liz. If he's going to be having s.e.x with my daughter, he will d.a.m.n well wrap his s.h.i.t up!" Aunt Liz yells. "Jenny, give him your condoms."

Aunt Jenny starts to walk over to the counter where her purse sits but stops when my mom speaks.

"Jenny, you take one more step in that direction and I will rip out your ovaries," Mom threatens.

Aunt Jenny freezes again and holds her hands up in the air like she's under arrest.

"Throwing away all of the condoms you found in his top dresser drawer didn't stop him from having s.e.x with Sh.e.l.ly Collins in the twelfth grade. Quit being a t.w.a.t and let him have the d.a.m.n condoms," Aunt Liz adds with a roll of her eyes.

You know, sometimes I think I'd like it better if my mom had absolutely no friends at all. Especially friends that she tells everything to and that also happens to be the mother of the woman I'm in love with. Talking about my one and only s.e.xual encounter on prom night that only happened because I found out Charlotte lost her virginity the week before to the ba.s.s player in my band obviously wasn't my finest hour. And the fact that my mom and Aunt Liz have already picked out their grandparent names is disturbing. Gammy Liz???

"We are never to speak again of my son having s.e.x. EVER!" Mom warns.

"Thank you," I mutter gratefully with a sigh.

"Instead, we should be talking about what his girlfriend will be wearing tomorrow night," she states.

Oh my G.o.d.

"Make sure she wears something totally s.l.u.tty," Aunt Liz tells me.

"And make sure you watch Charlotte out of the corner of your eye so you can see the look on her face," Mom adds.

"Um, are we forgetting something here? I don't have a girlfriend," I remind them.