The Oracle Rebounds (12 page)

The music comes on, and we negotiate the first few steps of the waltz. To my surprise, Evgeney is an elegant dancer. I can tell from the moment he assumes the posture. Why should I be so surprised? Evgeney wowed the whole school with his wild dance number at the Halloween dance. Obviously his talent translates into ballroom.

Every few minutes we rotate partners, and eventually I’m dancing with Rose. It’s weird holding another girl this way, even though we’re not superclose to each other. Dancing is so different now than it used to be. I bet in the old days girls learned to dance by dancing with each other.

Rose is as sweet and shy as she looks, not to mention a little socially awkward. She has more talent for dancing than I do, though, because she’s as graceful as a gazelle while I’m stepping all over her toes. Thank God we’re not doing the quickstep.

“No, no, no—watch us, Kayla!” Dimitri pulls Rose away from me and waltzes her around the floor. When he gives her back, her cheeks are flushed.

“Now you.” Uh-oh. I have to dance with Dimitri. I do my best to get through the steps, and he gives a slight nod. “Yes, some improvement.” Then he hands me off to Rose.

“You’re doing really well,” she says. “I think Dimitri’s a little high on himself, to be honest. He’s a great dancer but Evgeney’s a better teacher. I think he belongs in the advanced class, but I’m glad he stayed with us.”

“Yeah, Evgeney’s awesome. It was so nice of him to bring me here. My boyfriend doesn’t want to have anything to do with ballroom dancing.” I feel a twinge of guilt at the lie, but I feel it’s important to let her know that Evgeney and I are just friends.

“He’s very nice.” Her eyes dart away shyly, and I hope I’m sensing what I think I’m sensing. Normally I’m good at reading if someone likes someone else, but right now I have a vested interest that could cloud my judgment.

I switch to another partner, a girl named Naomi who, like me, is puzzled by the turns required for the waltz, and we keep knocking each other over and laughing. So much for my dreams of being a natural dancer gliding gracefully across the floor.

The class is mercifully only an hour and a half long. When it’s over, I say to Evgeney, “Wanna get something to eat?” Then I ask the others, “Anyone up for some food?” And I make sure to look at Rose specifically.

“Sure,” she says. And two other girls say yes, and one of the couples.

“Any ideas on where to go?”

Evgeney suggests a diner a few blocks away, near the subway station. As we walk there, I’m hoping that Evgeney will find a way to walk with Rose, but instead she falls into step with the two other single girls, and Evgeney ends up leading the way.

When we get into the diner, I know what I have to do: get Evgeney and Rose sitting together, or at least across from each other. When Evgeney is about to slide into the booth, I catch his arm and give him a look. He nods, understanding, and stands next to the table as everyone sits down. When Rose slides into the booth, he slides in next to her, then I get in after him. He flicks me a satisfied glance.

“I think the waltz is your dance,” Evgeney says, and she giggles demurely. I turn away so as not to interfere with their conversation. Naomi’s across from me, and we commiserate on how the waltz isn’t our thing, although we wish it could be. We both agree that we’d do better in hip-hop lessons.

Evgeney and Rose seem to be getting along well, but unfortunately other members of the group keep butting in, making it a table-wide conversation. Oh, well. I can tell they’re sitting quite close together. I wonder if their bodies are touching.

The group of us hang out for just over an hour, enough time to chat and get a milkshake or a burger. But since it’s a school night, we decide to get the bills as soon as we’re finished and head off.

Outside the diner, we go our separate ways, with most of the group going north, and Evgeney, Rose and I going into the subway station. Once the subway pulls up and they get on, I hang back, saying, “The R train is better for me.” Evgeney looks puzzled, since he knows that isn’t true. He tries to wave me in, but I just wave and step back from the platform.

The train pulls away, and I only have to wait a few minutes for the next one. I’ve got a smile on my face the whole way home. I’ve given Evgeney a great opportunity to get to know her better. I just hope he gets a date out of it.

54 Days into Rebound Equation

“Well, did you?” I demand in chemistry class the next day.

“Did I what?”

“Get her phone number.”

Evgeney grins. “I did. And then she asked for mine.”

“Yes!” My exclamation is so loud that I get shushed by Mrs. Moser, and I have to resort to silent exuberance.

“You did an excellent job of making me a viable option, and I thank you for that.” Then he looks at me pointedly. “But you shouldn’t have stayed on the platform. It was dangerous, and I never would’ve forgiven myself if…”

“Give me a break. It was fine. There was a businessman not far away who I’m sure would’ve played the hero if someone had tried to mug me. Plus, I carry Mace.”

“You do?”

“Well, no, but I’ve always planned to. Anyway, I did what I had to do to accomplish my mission. I doubt you guys would’ve exchanged phone numbers if I’d been there. So, when are you going to call her?”

“Tomorrow night. You mentioned on your website that a guy should call within two days to show he’s interested.”

“You’re my prize pupil, you know that?”

He chuckles. “I guess I am.”

I realize that if Evgeney calls her Friday night, I’ll have to wait until Monday to find out what happened, and that’s unacceptable. “Call or email me after you talk to her, okay? I want to know how things go.”

“I will.”

But it turns out, Friday morning in class Evgeney has an update for me. “Guess who called me last night?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And when I casually asked about her weekend plans, she mentioned she had plans on Saturday night but not tonight. She left me the perfect opening to ask her out for dinner.”

I’d like to shout hurray, but seeing my teacher’s eyes on me, I just pat him on the back. “This is totally freaking fantastic!”

Evgeney agrees.

That night, Tracey calls. “He’s still on the website, Kayla.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I don’t get it. I took myself off after dating him for a week—I was getting all these responses and I didn’t want to date anyone else. But he’s still on there.”

She’s talking about Iced Mocha, aka James. They’ve been dating for over three weeks and I thought things were going really well.

“Maybe he’s not checking his account.”

“I wish. It usually says at the bottom of the screen when the user was last active, but he made that invisible. So he could be
on there every day and I wouldn’t know it. Here’s the worst part—he put up a new profile picture.”

“Are you sure the default pictures don’t change automatically?”

“I’m sure. He changed it himself. Why would he do that if he wasn’t looking to meet someone else?”

“I don’t have an answer. Did you tell him you saw it?”

“No. If I tell him I looked at his profile, he’ll think I was checking up on him.”

“Maybe he’s curious to see what’s out there, but isn’t acting on it. Wait a minute—how long did you say he’s been on there?”

“He didn’t say, but it sounded like at least a year.”

“So this isn’t all new to him.”

“No. And last week we had this conversation about dating other people and he said he’s happy with where we are right now! What should I do?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Trace. I think your intuition is right about this.”

She sighs. “I know I’m right. It’s just—I thought he really liked me.”

“I’m sure he does like you. But he likes other people, too.”

“Oh, God. This is a nightmare.”

“It’s not a nightmare. You haven’t slept with him yet, have you?”

She is silent.

“Oh. I hope you were careful.”

“Of course I was careful! Damn it, I want to cry! What the hell is he playing me for? Why would he talk about plans for our future together, and then go and change his picture!”

“I’ll find out if he’s playing you. I’m going to create a profile that no guy can turn down and see whether he responds.”

“That’s a bit underhanded.” Tracey sounds reluctant.

“So what? You want to know the truth, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

I log on and create my profile. I make myself a twenty-five-year-old lawyer and model. I post pictures of an obscure model named Amber. There is no doubt that any guy would jump at this profile.

I find Iced Mocha’s profile and send him a “smile.” This doesn’t cost me any money. Now I’ll wait to see what happens.

Within minutes, I’m getting instant messages from random guys. I don’t reply to any of them.

Iced Mocha sends a “smile” back. And suddenly,
bling!
An instant message.

IcedMocha: Hi there, Amber. Your profile and pics blew me away. Are you for real?

I take a couple of minutes to reply. I want to keep him waiting.

Amber: I’m wondering the same about you. Entertainment lawyer? Went to Brown? So if you’re really who you say you are, what firm do you work for?

IcedMocha: Douglas and MacKay. My name is James Dawson. You can call up the firm and ask for me, if you want.

Amber: Sorry if I’m not as generous with my info. My friends have warned me that you can’t always trust guys you meet this way.

IcedMocha: Your friends are wise. I wouldn’t expect you to divulge any personal information until you’ve met me in person.

Amber: Are you saying you want to meet?

IcedMocha: I am. What about Tuesday night around 8? Name the place and time and I’ll be there.

Amber: Thank you, Mocha. I’ll think about it.

IcedMocha: Please do. Good night, Amber.

Amber: Good night.

I log off. There it is: the proof Tracey was afraid of.

Poor Tracey. The first time she goes online, she runs into a master player.

He’s smooth, that’s for sure.

Well, I’m not finished with him yet!

I send him an email.

Hello, James,

I’ve thought about your proposition, and I suppose I have nothing to lose, and possibly a new friend to gain. I will meet you Tuesday night at 8:00 p.m., as you suggested. There’s a new club on Bowery and First called the Onyx. Meet me at the bar. I’ll be coming from a meeting, so it’s possible I could be a few minutes late.

Cheers,

Amber

I click Send. And with that click, I am sending James the player to the raunchiest gay bar in the city, complete with a live drag show starting at 8:00 p.m.

My work here is done.

Confused: Hi, Oracle. Are you there?

Oracle: Yes, I’m here.

Confused: I have a problem with my boyfriend. It’s so embarrassing I haven’t been able to tell anyone.

Oracle: You can tell me. What’s the problem?

Confused: I’ve been going out with this guy for a month. He’s totally amazing. I mean, he’s kind, cute and has really good grades. Honestly, Oracle, I think he might be the guy I’ve been waiting for. But there’s one problem. He has bad breath.

Oracle: Does he have it all the time, or just sometimes?

Confused: All the time. It makes me think it might be gum disease or plaque and that grosses me out. I don’t even want to get close to him.

Oracle: Do you think he knows? Maybe his friends or family would have told him already?

Confused: I doubt anyone’s told him, because he doesn’t seem to know it’s a problem.

Oracle: Have you been offering him gum or breath mints?

Something that might give him a hint?

Confused: He doesn’t get it. He only takes the mints half the time I offer them.

Oracle: Do you know if he sees a dentist?

Confused: I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. Oracle, I’m so messed up right now. I really care about this guy, but I don’t know how long I can put up with his breath!

Oracle: The man of your dreams won’t have bad breath. So either this guy will fix his, or you’ll find somebody else. If you really like this guy, I think you should broach the topic. I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but you’ll be doing both of you a favor. Sure, he’ll be embarrassed, but in the end
he’ll benefit from your honesty. Then he will either do something about it or not. If he doesn’t, then you know he’s not the guy for you.

Confused: You’re right. I have to tell him. How do I do that?

Oracle: You could try something like, “Your breath’s been a little off these days. Have you changed your diet?” If he says no, you can say, “Really? I wonder what it is then. Maybe you should have it checked out.”

Confused: Oracle, I don’t know if I can do that. He’s very sensitive and he’ll probably get upset.

Oracle: The alternative is to send him an email.

Confused: I can see doing that. I’ll do it right now before I chicken out.

Oracle: Good luck.

Confused: Thanks, Oracle. You ROCK!

The following Tuesday night, Amber gets an email from Iced Mocha.

You set me up, you bitch! That place was disgusting. I’m going to post a warning to all the guys to stay away from you. I bet you’re butt ugly and hate men. Probably because they all hate you!

I promptly erase Amber’s profile, and just like that, I drop off the site.

I’m glad that Mocha got a shock, but I still don’t feel like Tracey’s been vindicated. The only good thing that came out of this is that she could jump ship before she became even more involved.

“I think you should keep looking online,” I tell Tracey the
next evening when I visit her apartment, armed with pastries and soy decaf lattes. “Sure, you snagged a loser the first time around, but I’ve looked through a lot of profiles, and there seem to be some genuine guys out there.”

“Seem to be.”
Tracey sips her latte. “Maybe I’m a poor judge of character. Before I meet someone else, I’ll show you their profile.”

“It’s not your fault, Trace. Mocha’s profile was perfect, especially the part about looking for a long-term relationship with the right woman. The guy’s a classic con man.”

“I don’t understand guys like that. I’m glad he got manipulated for a change. Good job, sis.”

We exchange a grin.