How to Ruin Series Part 157

"Chaverah means girlfriend."

"I knew that."

Liron smiles at me, and I notice not only is her skin flawless, but her teeth are perfectly straight. "So Amy, why do you think Israel is significant?"

I sit up straight in my hot metal chair, which my thighs have stuck to from the heat. My skin rubs on the metal with each movement, making a squeaking sound. It hurts. I'll probably have thigh-burn later on. "Because it's the Jewish homeland," I answer.

Liron nods.

"You're right.

As Americans, you share the same democratic freedoms we do here in Israel."

"The Palestinians don't have it so easy here," Jess chimes in. "I mean, I'm proud to be Jewish and would never want to be anything else, but when will the fighting stop?"

Oh, no! While Tarik would be proud of Jess for sticking up for his people, I'm not sure this is the best place to debate the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. And while I am usually all for a knock-down-drag-out verbal sparring session, I'm not sure anything but trouble can come out of a political discussion on an Israeli military base.

I decide to intervene. "I think my friend Jess here is trying to say that, uh, while Israel is the Jewish homeland, not everyone feels the same way. No need to go into the specific differences, though. It's all cool. Discussion over."

Liron walks down the aisle and stands in front of my chair. "It's against regulation for a soldier to talk about the political situation in Israel while in an IDF uniform.

But I guarantee that you can get into a long political discussion with any Israeli out of uniform. And I also guarantee that you'll get a hundred and fifty different opinions if you talk to a hundred Israelis."

Whoa, that's a lot of opinions.

"Girls, my job in the IDF is to protect Israel. As a private, or new trainee, your job is to take orders. You will be treated like a real Israeli soldier, and you will act like a real Israeli soldier. When we say 'get in formation,' you get in formation or you'll be doing twenty pushups. When we say 'run,' you run. When we wake you at the crack of dawn, you'll be ready and in formation within seven minutes. We're going to test your will and your spirit.

We're going to test you physically and mentally. You're going to hate and curse your instructors while you're going through it, and love us and feel like a stronger person in the end. Any questions?"

I raise my hand. When Liron points to me, I say, "Do we get free time?"

"Maybe," she answers curtly. "Why are you here, Amy?"

To spend time with my boyfriend, so Israeli girls like you don't steal him away from me, I want to say. But instead I say, "To feel what it's like to be an Israeli soldier."

An instructor named Gili comes in and talks to us about the state of Israel. "Israel has a population of about six million Jews," she explains. "We are a minority in the Middle East. It's no secret we cannot afford to lose even one war. To do so might mean the end of the state of Israel.

That's why every single Jewish Israeli citizen must serve in the military. Israeli Druze and Bedouins serve in our military as well."

For the next two hours, Liron and other instructors take turns teaching us. I haven't paid much attention to the other girls in my unit, but being in a small cla.s.sroom gives me the opportunity to check them out.

During the bus ride to the base, I learned that five of the girls are friends from New York. They all have straight brown hair and the same basic "look." They're taking this whole boot camp thing seriously and are determined to be obedient soldiers. I swear these New York girls can't wait to get down and dirty in the Israeli dirt. I think they're under the impression that at the end of our military basic training program they'll be ready for the front lines of battle. I don't have the heart to tell them they've got a demented view of reality.

We have four girls from California.

They're all really pretty and two of them are fakey-blond.

Then there's Tori, our resident b.i.t.c.h.

She's a total loner, by choice. She rolls her eyes at everything, and makes snide comments to just about everyone on the trip. I think her goal in life is to insult every person she comes in contact with.

Her hair is long and blond, but when she turns around and her hair parts you can see that underneath she has a sheath of black hair. It's totally two-tone, but I have no clue if she wants it that way or if it's a bad dye job. Either way, it's definitely unique.

The rest of the seven girls in our barracks are from different states scattered around the country, although two are actually from Canada and I want to laugh every time they say the word "about"

because it comes out as "ah-boot."

Right now we're being dismissed from the cla.s.sroom. How can I break it to Ronit that I'm "ah-boot" to go search for my boyfriend?

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 cla.s.sroom discussion, we're led back to our bittan 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 ochel for dinner! Ready?" she barks out.

She must not expect us to respond, because immediately she starts chanting the small-ya'mean-smalls. We're all out of line and out of sequence, b.u.mping 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 c.r.a.ppy 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, Avi's 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?"

"Ze'heruit Gefen," Nimrod calls out, startling me. "Ata holech al chevel dok."

"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?"