Chapter Eleven: Socialization of the Teenage Male
Chapter Eleven: Socialization of the Teenage Male
Mark practically fell out of bed when his alarm went off at 9:30 one June morning about a week after school got out. He blinked blearily at the ceiling, tangled up in his blankets and half on the floor.
"Good morning, honey!" his mom's voice called cheerily from the doorway. "What in the world are you doing on the floor?"
"I fell." Mark said simply, attempting to disentangle himself with some semblance of dignity. He failed.
"Oh, dear, did you hurt yourself, sweetie?" Mrs. Cohen asked. "It wouldn't do to hurt yourself right before your first day of class!" Mark found his glasses and looked at his mother like she was insane - which he had already decided she was, years ago.
"Mom..." he said slowly, as if talking to a small child, "I'm not taking summer school. I got straight A's, remember?"
"Oh, not summer school, silly." she laughed and picked his blanket up off the floor. "I signed you up for a group voice class at the JCC. It starts at eleven, better get showered and come downstairs and eat something before Heather gets here to pick you up."
"Heather knows about this?" Mark's voice squeaked.
"Well, of course, silly. I know I told you both, but I called her this morning to remind her she was giving you a ride. She'll be here at 10:30, so you can get there a little early." Mrs. Cohen added as she closed the door. Mark stared at the closed door for a good five minutes before he could move again.
# # #
"Why would she sign me up for this?" Mark sighed. "She knows I can't sing, and she knows I don't like social situations."
"Maybe that's why she signed you up?" Heather ventured as they pulled out of the Cohens' driveway. "Since Rosa and Molly and I are all going to college, and Cindy's off getting married and what-not, she figured you needed to make a couple new friends this summer."
"Well, I don't." Mark said firmly. He winced a little as he stretched his wrists - they were still always a little stiff in the mornings. "I'll stay away from everyone, try to avoid Angie the super-stalker," he glared at Heather when she giggled, "Which is not funny, by the way, and I'll film. Do schoolwork, apply to Brown like my dad wants me to." he paused and rasied an eyebrow. "What's with the face?"
"Is that what you want to do?" she asked quietly. "Be alone for a year, and go to a college I've never seen you show the slightest interest in?" Mark sighed.
"Heath-bar, I really don't need this right now." he said quietly. Heather smiled a little at the nickname Molly had given her, and nodded.
"Okay." she said. "Just... think about it. Later, when you feel up to it."
"Sure, whatever." Mark fiddled with his camera, and the rest of the drive, the only sound was the radio.
"Have fun, Marky-poo!" Heather said mock-cheerfully as Mark climbed out of the car at the center. He glared at her. "Hey, you'd better have fun." she said seriously. "Your mom woke me up at nine this morning to 'remind' me I was giving you a ride."
"Yes, ma'am." Mark muttered, and turned to the building as Heather pealed out of the parking lot. He stared up at the building suspiciously, his camera at his side. He glanced at his watch: 10:45. He turned the camera on and pointed it towards himself. "June 10th, 10:45 am, eastern standard time. My mother is forcing me to take a voice class here," he turned the camera around and filmed the building, "at the Scarsdale Jewish Community Center. I think I might have to be a 'bad kid' and skip the class... except I know it'll get back to mom, and she'll chew me out and make me go anyway." he sighed. "Well... now into my own personal living hell... not that life isn't bad enough without it. Here goes nothing." he turned the camera off and, after taking a deep breath, entered the building.
# # #
"It was mostly the freshmen and sophomores." Mark told Heather and Rosa later that day. "Janet Silverman, Danica Handleman, Danny Shwartz. That group." Heather nodded, recognizing the names. The Jewish community in Scarsdale was pretty close-knit; or at least, all the kids knew each other by name and had, if they were within a year or so of each other age-wise, probably had a play date with each other as a kid.
"Any from our group?" Heather asked. The groups were age groups - mostly kids who'd gone to Hebrew School together. Heather, Mark, and Jenny had all been in the same class - Cindy had been considered "snotty" by her group, so she had, until she'd graduated, hung out with the younger teens.
"Yeah, Matthew Catts was there." Mark sighed. "And they could all sing passably, as opposed to me, who can't."
"Sounds like a real trial." Rosa nodded sympathetically, trying very hard not to giggle.
"Did anything interesting happen?" Heather asked. Mark shook his head, then stopped. "What?" Heather and Rosa leaned in, interested.
"Well... I dunno, there was this one guy there. I'd never seen him before, and truthfully? He didn't look Jewish."
"Neither do I." Heather pointed out. Mark pursed his lips.
"Yeah, but..." he shrugged. "I don't know. I think he snuck in. He was just hanging around the back of the room, and he wasn't on the roll, but of course," Mark rolled his eyes, "Mrs. Greenblatt didn't notice."
"She wouldn't." Heather agreed. "So, was he cute?" Rosa laughed and smacked her in the arm.
"You're not single, chica!" she said, pointing her finger in Heather's face with mock sternness. Heather tried to bite Rosa's finger.
"Hey, just because I'm single and a Lesbian, I might add, doesn't mean I don't want to know as much about this mystery guy as possible! Maybe I was thinking about setting him up with you!"
"WHAT?!" Rosa shrieked. The girls started arguing (in that best friends sort of way) and neither of them noticed the slight blush that had crept up Mark's cheeks.