Tell Me Again How a Crush Should Feel (6 page)

“Hopefully, you’ll have boys. Boys are princes,” old lady number two says, eyeing Farzaneh’s general uterus area like she is willing a boy to show up in there.

After I finish the food piled on my plate, I walk back into the den and plop myself next to Roxy in front of the TV. She absently shoves rice in her mouth, spilling a few grains on the rug beneath her.

“Are they still humble-bragging?” I whisper, and Roxy turns her head to observe Sepideh and Nahal not touching their food and speaking with their hands about God knows what. I know it is killing Nahal, because she loves
lubia polo,
and the only thing keeping her from devouring it is she that she’s waiting for Sepideh to take a bite first.

Roxy turns her attention back to the television. “Yeah. When the movie’s over, you want to play hide-and-seek?” The other little kids look at me eagerly, and I know how I’ll spend the rest of the evening.

Monday morning in study hall I can’t focus because Tess keeps asking about Lisa’s party. “Do you think Ashley likes Greg?” she says as she continues to not so subtly inquire about her crush while we sit at our worktable in the library. She stares off at Greg, who is studying nearby. It’s a gaze out of a Jane Austen novel, full of yearning and patience. Yuck.

“I don’t know, Tess. Maybe
you
should ask him out already,” I say.

“What? I was just curious.” Tess is a great actress onstage, but her acting here is as convincing as an infomercial.

“Tess, you so obviously do. Just go for it!”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Probably not to anyone but me. You really have nothing to lose.”

She doesn’t say anything. I sigh like Charlie Brown. “There is honestly
nothing
going on between me and Greg. You have my blessing to suck his face.” Tess blushes profusely and I chuckle.

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“What are you really scared of? You’re a catch!”

“I don’t know. It’s just that I know he was so into you, and I don’t feel like being a consolation prize.”

I get that sometimes Greg thinks he still likes me, but only because he hangs out with me and doesn’t know about all the girls who like
him.
Maybe if he saw who else was out there for him, I’d never have to worry about feeling like I’m leading him on. I get up, facing Greg. Tess grabs my arm. “Where are you going?”

“Relax, jeez, I’m just going to the bathroom.”

Her grip loosens and I walk as though I am going straight to the bathroom but then detour over to Greg’s table.

“Hi, Greg,” I say as I sit down across from him. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Tess turn cherry Tootsie Pop red.

“Hey. What’s up?” We don’t talk about our night at Lisa’s. What would be the point?

“Not much. Just tired of studying. Tess and I have a big test tomorrow.”

“What subject?”

“Science. We’re both awful.” This is a huge lie. Tess could teach our class if she wanted to. “Want to come tutor us?”

Greg closes his textbook and gives me a small smile. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Great! We’re sitting over there.” I point to Tess. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

I smile at him before I walk away, planning to leave them alone for the rest of the period. Sometimes people just need a good kick in the pants. Myself included. I go to the back rows of the library, looking for a decent book to check out. I notice Lisa in the row next to me, and I push some books on the shelf between us to the side. They fall all over the place.

“Sorry! I was trying to be smooth,” I say.

Lisa shakes her head and keeps her attention on me.

“What do you want, Lei?”

“Nothing. I’m just giving my friend some alone time with a gentleman,” I whisper.

“How noble of you,” Lisa declares.

“How was the rest of your weekend?” I ask.

“Fine. But my mother yelled at me for not enjoying the festivities.” Lisa rolls her eyes. “She told me she saw you at the party. Thanks for not telling her where I was.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and kick at the carpet with my shoe. Lisa crosses her arms over her chest.

“You do realize we’re talking to each other on school grounds,” I point out.

She shrugs.

“Your friends won’t mind?”

“I don’t really give a shit.”

“So I didn’t get a part in the play. I’m just an understudy.”

“That’s understandable. Your gas is awful.” She then stops my shoe with hers so I’ll stop idly kicking the carpet. I do and look up to see Lisa grin at me.

After a week filled with a crappy science test, grueling play rehearsals, and listening to Tomas solidify our weekend plans for the millionth time, the day of our visit to Saskia’s place arrives at last. I have had a few moments with Saskia here and there over the week, but she is constantly busy at play rehearsal, and I doubt she even notices me. And now, tonight is the night when I can talk to her as much as I want. Well, as much as Tomas lets me get a word in.

“I can’t believe your friend lives here,” Mom says as she drops me off in front of the Taj hotel in Boston.

“Thanks for the ride, Mom,” I say before she can ask too many questions. I have no idea what’s in store for this evening, but whatever it is, I am nervous.

“Call me when you need me to pick you up tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh. Love you! Bye!” I close the door and jog inside to the lobby. I feel like a socialite going to meet her lover for a quick tryst before her husband comes home. How chic am I?

I knock on the penthouse door and Saskia opens it, beaming and hugging me. “You made it, Leila!” I am so blissfully happy.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” I take in the scent of her hair and my hormones are going bonkers, until Tomas yells my name and rushes toward me.

“Don’t you just love this place?” He takes me by the arm and leads me to the kitchen area. “Can I make you a drink, young lady?”

“A drink?” I ask. Tomas begins to unscrew a bottle of Tanqueray, and I look at all the liquor around. I’ve never really had a drink before. There was a glass of champagne at a wedding once, but I had two sips and then decided it was gross.

“Uh . . . I don’t know. Sure. Um . . . scotch?”

“Scotch! What are you, a forty-year-old man?” Tomas gives me a look like I’m from another planet. Or possibly a forty-year-old man.

“She’ll have what I’m having. Two gin and tonics, Tomas, if you would,” Saskia says as though she’s ordered drinks all her life. Tomas nods and begins to mix the drinks while Saskia links our arms and leads me to the couch.

“I am so glad you’re here. This place just gets unbearable after a while.” Saskia grins and pushes me down onto the sofa, playfully falling down next to me.

“I can’t believe you live here!” I exclaim.

“It’s not that glamorous, I’m afraid. You remember the story of Rapunzel? Trapped in a tower waiting for her prince to climb up her hair? Only in this case the tower is a hotel and the prince would probably hire someone to save me, saving himself the trouble.”

I highly doubt that.

“I highly doubt that.” Oh my God, I said it out loud!

“Sorry?”

“Well, you have hair Rapunzel would love to have, and I’m sure you don’t need rescuing,” I say as the word-vomit continues to spew out of my stupid mouth.

“Don’t I? News to me.” She smirks and I don’t know what’s happening. Are we having a moment? Is this a moment? She’s just watching me, not looking away—and I’m not, either. I really, really should do something. Tomas rescues me, for once.

“Drinks are ready!”

I guzzle mine down. Tomas and Saskia laugh at my eagerness to consume alcohol. Turns out drinking’s no big deal. It tastes just like Sprite with less sugar. I ask Tomas for another.

A little while later Tomas is online in the living room, chatting with God knows who, and Saskia and I wobble away into her room. I am totally coherent. Hahaha. Yeah. Totally . . . coherent. Those drinks were delicious! Delicious is a funny word. It should be spelled with an
I-S-H
like
wish
or
dish
! I wish for a dish!

“You can lie on the bed if you want,” Saskia says. Bed! That’s where sexy times happen! I’m not ready for sexy times! I flop on the bed and bury my face in the comforter. It’s soft. I like it. I feel detached from myself and think about how good that feels, to not be me. I’m somebody, some
thing,
else entirely.

I hear Saskia’s sweet voice. “Don’t fall asleep, Leila. Our night’s not over.”

My face is still in the bed.

“It’s not?”
It’s not?

“No, silly,” she chirps like a Disney princess. “We’re going out.”

Oh. We’re going out?

“Tomas has these friends at BU. We’re going to hang out with them. Tomas needs to meet some other men, and frankly high school parties are such a bore, don’t you think?”

Are they? I haven’t been to many of them.

“But how will we get there?” It’s important to be practicaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal.

Saskia laughs at how ridiculous I am. She turns me over and stands above me.

“Cab. Metro. We’ll figure it out.” Her hair is falling into my face, tickling my nose. I hope I don’t sneeze in her hair. “You’re quite pretty when you’re drunk,” she says, and then turns and walks away. I feel like I’m losing my breath. I have to sober up, quick, even if I’m pretty. I’m pretty. I’m pretty. I’m pretty.

Soon we are on the T going to Boston University, and I keep trying to be less silly, but everything just makes me laugh. Tomas is laughing, too, but at me, and I just keep telling him to shut up. Saskia tells us to quiet down. I try to, but all these people are looking at us, and for the first time I really don’t care. It’s so freeing. I
want
them to look because I’m pretty. I’m pretty and young and alive. How about
that,
Vietnamese lady on the other side of the train? How about
that,
homeless guy leering at me from across the way? Tomas dances around the pole like he’s a stripper, and Saskia stuffs dollars into his coat pockets. And I just laugh some more.

The cold air hits us as we get off the T. Saskia lights up two cigarettes in her mouth and passes one to Tomas. Tomas coughs as he takes a drag and Saskia winks at me when she exhales smoke. This night is epic and must never end! We link arms like in The
Wizard of Oz
and we shuffle off to Tomas’s friends’ house.

An hour into the party, I’m not having as much fun as I thought I would. Tomas is sucking face with some guy named Fred he met online, probably the guy he was talking to earlier. Saskia is talking to a guy named Chip about the ramifications of global warming. There are a few other people around, but none of them are talking to me and I keep staring at this poster of Che Guevara. I am comforted to know that I have less facial hair than he does. A girl with dreadlocks and a bullhorn in her nose sits next to me; we don’t speak. She takes a hit from a penis-shaped bong, looks my way and offers it to me. I shake my head and say no thank you. She tells me her name’s Rebecca and she’s a gender studies major. I tell her my name’s Leila and I’m undecided. This is the understatement of the year. I stopped drinking about an hour ago, and now I just feel sort of nauseated. Rebecca takes another hit and puts the penis-bong down on the table. Why is everything always about sex?

“Why is everything always about sex?” I say out loud. Rebecca grins, her eyes glazed over.

“What else is there to do sometimes, y’know?” I had assumed college students would be more articulate.

“Yeah, but it’s everywhere, all the time. What’s the big deal?” I ask.

“You haven’t done it yet, right?” I’m so obviously a virgin. “Look, the first time is probably going to suck. It’s like dancing, but there’s no song. Your mom or whoever will say it’s a special time in your life, but you still won’t know what you’re doing,” Rebecca says, as if I asked for her advice.

I notice Saskia leaning in a little closer to Chip. Their conversation must be engaging.

“The second time is better. You get more comfortable with your body, and you start figuring out who and what you want. If you’re lucky.”

Chip is whispering something in Saskia’s ear now. I didn’t know the hole in the ozone layer required such intimacy.

“Then eventually, you get in bed with someone you just go wild on because you can’t get enough of them. It’s the best ever.”

Chip kisses Saskia full on the mouth. I want to throw up.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask.

Rebecca points me down the hall, and I walk past Saskia and Chip. Saskia’s hand is on his chest, and his fingers are running through her hair. My stomach is hitting the floor. I close the bathroom door behind me. I grab the toilet seat and vomit. It’s all the alcohol. I
want
it to be the alcohol. There’s a knock on the door; I ignore it. Saskia barges in, and I hate having her see me like this. She closes the door behind her and crouches over me, making circles on my back with her hand.

“I shouldn’t have let you drink so much,” she murmurs.

I cry a little and wipe my mouth with toilet paper. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to have to miss the party.”

“No, it’s lame. College kids think they know everything.”

Eventually I think I don’t have anything left to heave. I just sit there, unable to look her in the eye.

“I remember when I had too much to drink for the first time,” Saskia says. “My daddy was hosting a party and was too busy to notice that I was having a lousy evening. The bartender left the bar area for a while, and I snuck some peppermint schnapps, of all things. Needless to say, I have never been able to eat a York Peppermint Pattie since.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“You really should learn to stop apologizing, especially when things aren’t your fault.”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands. This is hardly charming or flirtatious. This is just sad and pathetic.

“Anyway, I was twelve and I ended up spending the whole night in the bathroom. Eventually Daddy came to say good night. I told him I ate some bad shrimp or something and he believed me. Or he pretended to,” she says.

I take her hand in mine. “Thanks for not leaving me alone.” I say.

Saskia smiles and squeezes my hand. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

After a while I get my bearings and we pry Tomas away from Fred. Rebecca is making out with some other girl. The three of us link arms and take a cab back to the hotel.

Tomas passes out on the couch. He’s had a great evening, that’s for sure. I’m pretty sober now, but Saskia still holds my hand and leads me to her bathroom.

“The nice thing about living in a hotel is all the extra toiletries,” Saskia says, taking out a toothbrush for me. I brush my teeth while she brushes her hair.

“Was Chip a good kisser?” I ask, like I’m a gal pal rather than a hopeful love interest.

“Not really,” she says with a sigh. “I was just kind of bored. I stopped it after a while.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

She laughs at my question. “God no. A guy by the name of Chip is not exactly the prince I was hoping would come to rescue me from my tower. Besides, he didn’t know all that much about fracking.” She puts her hairbrush down and rubs my back again. “Let’s go to bed, okay?” She walks away and I rinse my mouth.

Saskia sits in her bed, getting comfortable. I stand at the end of the bed.

“So I’m just going to go sleep on a couch,” I say.

“Nonsense. You’re coming in here with me.”

I am? “I don’t know. I mean, is there enough room? I might kick in my sleep or something.”

“Leila, I want you to,” she says.

I pull back the sheets and get under the covers as Saskia turns off her bedside lamp. This is no big deal. We’re friends. I lie down next to her, rigid. This is no big deal.

“Did it bother you? Watching me with him?” Saskia asks in the darkness.

How do I answer that?

“Yes.”

She puts an arm around me and pulls me in closer.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find you a boy to kiss soon, too.”

Right. A boy.

She closes her eyes and I end up sleeping about twenty minutes the entire night.