By Simone Elkeles. I was sitting in my room yesterday when my biological father, Ron, called. Ron never calls. You see, after their affair in college, my mom found out she was pregnant. She comes from money, and Ron. Boy, were they wrong.
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By Simone Elkeles. I was sitting in my room yesterday when my biological father, Ron, called. Ron never calls. You see, after their affair in college, my mom found out she was pregnant. She comes from money, and Ron. Boy, were they wrong. But the worst part is he gave up without even trying.
I know he puts money into an account for me. He also comes by to take me out to dinner for my birthdays. But so what? He used to come around more, but I finally told him to leave me alone so my mom could find me a real dad.
He failed miserably. Well, the guy phones this time and tells my mom he wants to take me to Israel. You know, that little country in the Middle East that causes so much controversy. I freeze and end up saying nothing. Believe it or not, sometimes saying nothing actually works in my favor. It makes people nervous and, well, better them than me. Ron clears his throat. A war zone! Tell Grandma I hope she gets over her illness.
Bye," I say and hang up. My mom picks up the phone in the living room. I try to listen through my bedroom door. Just mumble, mumble, mumble. After about forty long minutes she comes knocking at my door and tells me to pack for Israel.
Not fair? I cross my arms in front of my chest. Amy, stop the dramatics. I try for another two hours to get out of it, I really do. I should have known trying to argue with my mom would get me nothing except a sore throat. I decide to call my best friend, Jessica. Supportive, understanding Jessica. Gotta love caller ID. Oh, yeah, he called.
And somehow he convinced my mom to cancel my summer plans so he could take me to Israel. Could you just die? Are you kidding? Jessica says. She says they have the clearest diamonds ever cut. You know the little black dress I love? She got it for me there. They have the best European styles and—". Sure, Israel has its share of problems.
But my parents say a lot of what we see on TV is propaganda. Ron will keep you safe. Are you mad at me? Jess asks. I could lie and tell you your life is ruined beyond repair.
Would that make you feel better? Jessica is the only person who can make fun of me and get away with it. Although what does it say about our friendship when my BFF has no problems sending me into a war zone?
Looking around, I watch a guy in a dark suit as he crouches on the floor and examines the underside of each row of benches. If he finds a bomb, will he know how to disarm it? He tried talking to me on the way to the airport.
I cut him off by putting on my headphones and listening to my iPod. His hair is short. As hard as it is, I straighten my curly hair every morning. I hate my hair. People say my eyes are such a bright blue they glow. I consider my eyes my best feature. Unfortunately, the main thing I inherited from Mom is a big chest.
When I play tennis, they get in the way. Have you ever tried a two-handed backhand with mongo boobs? They seriously should have handicaps in tennis for people with big chests. But Jessica said during a boob reduction the doctor removes your whole areola. As I think about detached areolas, I realize Ron is still looking at me.
Because of him, I had to drop out of tennis camp this summer. I totally want to make the varsity team. Mom probably wanted me out of the house so she could have privacy with her latest guy.
As if. Mom got me the cell for emergencies only. Please be home, I pray as I stop by a window and look out at airplanes parked at their gates. Well, sometimes. Come get me at the airport. International terminal. Wait for me there. The snatcher, of course, is none other than the crapper himself. Who is dis? Ron barks into my phone like an army commander with a speech impediment. So this has nothing to do with Ron wanting to get to know me and spend time with me.
No from now on I want to be the father I always should have been from him. Boarding now for El Al flight to Tel Aviv with a connection in Newark, a voice with an Israeli accent blasts through the loudspeaker. Tell you what, Ron says. Fine, I say and hold out my hand. Ron and I are assigned to row sixty, the last row. Unless, of course, a bomb is planted on the plane or terrorists hijack it and we die before we even get to the war zone.
As I think about terrorists on the plane, I look over at Ron. I heard there are air marshals on all El Al flights, I say as I shove my backpack under the seat in front of me.
Is it true? How many? Uh huh, I say, not very convinced as I look to my left at a guy with a mono-brow who looks pretty suspicious. Mono-brow smiles at me. His smile fades as I realize Ron is glaring at him. When I was younger and he came to take me for my annual birthday outing, I worshipped the ground he walked on.
He was like this superhero who granted my every wish and treated me like a princess for a day. But by the time I realized a father should actually be there for you every day, I started resenting him. Last year I actually blew him off. She throws men away for sport.
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How to Ruin a Summer Vacation
Remember Me. A story dripping with sarcasm and laughs. Amy takes a trip to Israel to meet her estranged father's family. Israel is nothing she imagined. For one, there's dirt everywhere and animals and no AC. Imagery is very strong and detailed! Then the cousin she has to share a room with seems to strongly dislike her and then there is Avi a guy.
How To Ruin My Teenage Life
I mean, from what Jessica was telling me, Israeli stores have the latest fashions from Europe. That black dress Jessica has is really awesome. Think goats, not Gucci. Going to Israel with her estranged Israeli father is the last thing Amy wants to do this summer. Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read.