The Second Virginity of Suzy Green (9 page)

“Nah. Only
joking. But you can tell me what to say. As you know him so well.”

“I’m not sure.”
She’s silent for a few seconds. “I know,” she continues. “Why don’t you say
haven’t seen your uncle in a while, since the funeral—”

“I can’t say
that. Guy doesn’t know about Rosie.”

“Um—actually he
does.”

“How? I didn’t
mention anything to him. The only person I’ve told is you—” I stop speaking. Oh
no. Lori told Guy. I don’t believe it. After I specifically asked her to keep
it quiet. “You told him didn’t you?” My voice comes out harsher than I intend.
Though if you ask me she deserves it.

“I’m so sorry
Suzy. It was an accident. I was going to ring and tell you but I felt so awful.
It just sort of slipped out after school today when he gave me a ride home. But
he knows you don’t want the others to know. And he’ll keep it secret, I
promise.”

Yeah like she
promised not to say anything. Well if this doesn’t prove that Maddie is the
only person I can trust I don’t know what does.

“Whatever.”

“Please say you
forgive me.”

“I forgive you.”
That couldn’t come across as more belligerent if I tried. Maybe I’m being mean.
These things happen. I’ve done it myself. What about when I accidentally
dropped Maddie in it when she said she was at my house and she’d gone to that
concert across town with some guy her parents said she couldn’t see. “Sorry. Of
course I forgive you. But please don’t say anything to anyone else. It’s just
that I don’t want to go through everyone staring and talking about me again. I
had enough of that when it all happened.”

“You have my
word.” She breathes an extremely loud sigh of relief down the phone.

I’m still cross, but it’s not going to
change Guy knowing. Just as long as he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“So back to Guy.
What shall I say?”

“Like I said
before, say it’s been ages since you’ve seen your uncle. Failing that, just say
that your Mom wants to meet him. That’s perfectly acceptable.” For around here
maybe.

“Anyway, you
better phone him now. Give him some warning.”

“I suppose. Wish
me luck. I’ll phone you right back once I’ve done it.”

“Guy, anymore?” Mom
asks, her hand poised threateningly over the homemade lemon meringue pie,
which is my absolute favorite dessert and I’m hoping there will be some left
for breakfast—don’t mock it ’til you try it.

Dessert aside, I
have to say this has been the most excruciating tea in the history of teas. And
if I never have to sit through another it will be too soon. First of all we had
the twenty questions—there isn’t a thing Mom doesn’t know about Guy and his
family. Then we had so many awkward silences it was embarrassing. Most unlike Mom.
Especially with Uncle Peter there.

Now I know why I
didn’t bring boys home in the past. I really don’t know how Rosie tolerated it.
Though thinking back, I do remember Rosie giving Mom a talking to one time when
Mom was so obviously impressed with this boy she was practically writing the
wedding invitations.

I will admit,
finding out Guy’s dad works for a TV company was pretty amazing. Maybe he can
get tickets for us to watch a show being recorded.

“No thank you,
Mrs Green.” He glances down at his watch. I think that’s a hint.

“We’ve got to go
Mom or we’ll miss the start of the movie.” I jump up from my seat. “Bye everyone.
Good to see you Uncle Peter. I won’t be late.”

Guy follows my
lead and stands. You know, he’s got great manners. Mom and Dad should be very
impressed. He even brought Mom some flowers when he arrived. Not only that Guy
has all the right credentials: rich family, heading for an Ivy-League college
and good career, virgin—okay obviously my mother doesn’t know that. Nor will she.
Duh. Of course she does because she asked he was at the meeting the other
night.

Guy’s car is
parked at the end of our drive and when we’ve reached it I look back toward the
house where Mom is standing by the window waving. I wave back then quickly
close the door, sinking into the leather seat and wriggling around until I’m
comfortable. I’ve never known an eighteen year old guy have a flash car like
this before. Talk about how the other half live. And I bet his house is a
mansion too, unlike ours.

“I’m so sorry
for putting you through all that,” I say once Guy pulls away from the side of
the road. “All those questions. Mom excelled herself tonight.”

He reaches over
and rests his hand on mine, and my heart begins to zip-zap all over the place.
Then, suddenly he snatches his hand away and places it back on the steering
wheel.

Why did he do that? Ah. The handbook. No
touching. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

“It was fine. I
like your parents. They’re cool.”

Cool? What is he
on? Cool is not a word any of my friends have ever used to describe my Mom and
Dad before. Not that they’re awful or anything. Just a bit boring and
parent-like. Now if you want cool parents then look no further than Maddie’s—even
if Maddie can’t talk about sex with her mom.

“I’ll take your
word for it. And bringing flowers was definitely a smart move. Mom’s a sucker
for anything like that.”

“I didn’t do it
to get on her good side.” He sounds annoyed I would even suggest it, but come
on. Why else do you do that sort of thing?

“Not even a
little bit?” I tease. He visibly bristles.

“No. It’s polite
to take a little gift when you’re invited places. I always do.”

Well according
to that it sounds like I haven’t been brought up properly. Which is just not
true. I do know how to behave, even if I don’t shower my host with gifts every
time I call around for a visit.

For the next
little while we travel in silence and I focus my attention on the cars parked
in their driveways as we pass them. A couple of times I sneak a peek at Guy,
but his eyes are firmly fixed on the road ahead and his chin juts out in a
funny sort of belligerent way. I’ve never noticed it before. I’m beginning to
suspect I’ve ruined the evening before it’s even properly started. Which is
simply ridiculous, childish and pathetic. And I’m far too mature to let it
continue.

“Hey, Guy,” I
say brightly. “Fancy stopping at Starbucks on the way? I could murder a
frappuccino.” He glances down at his watch and frowns.

“We don’t have
time. But we can go after the movies. Okay?”

“Sure. As long
as I’m not too late home.”

Shut up. Why do
I always do it? At my age you don’t say you have to be in early. Arrggggh. What
is it with me and this transformation? It’s playing havoc with any rational
thought that enters my head. And turning me into my mother. If I’m not careful
I’ll soon be buying sensible shoes and practical clothes.

“Me too. I’ve
got a chemistry test tomorrow and I’d hate to fall asleep over my Bunsen
burner.” He glances in my direction, grins then resumes watching the road.

He either means
it, which is a huge worry, or he’s saying it to be kind and make me feel
better. I prefer the latter.

“What movie are
we going to see?” You’d have thought I’d have asked before now, but to be
honest it completely slipped my mind. And I don’t actually care. As long as
it’s not that new sci-fi wanna-be Star Wars movie just released. I can’t
remember what it’s called but it’s got Mars in it. Or is it Pluto? Whatever, I
hate that sort of movie.

“Jupiter Force.”
That’s the one. Shit. “Is that okay?”

“Um, yeah.
Great.” Well, I did say I wasn’t really bothered. And it might be okay. I’m
prepared to give it a chance. “As long as I can choose next time.” Like there’s
going to be a next time after a nearly argument and a misunderstanding. And
that’s before we’ve even got there.

“It’s a deal.”

I spend the
remainder of the journey, which is all of two minutes, debating which movie
I’ll take him to. Should I go for something funny? Which is my usual
preference. Or what about something romantic? Nah. I can’t hack that. Or
something scary so we can hold hands and snuggle up close? Would that be
classed as exceptional circumstance in the handbook?

***

“Now what?” Guy
says turning to me as we see flashing red letters on the overhead screen saying
that Jupiter Force is sold out. “I was so looking forward to seeing it.” He
looks really dejected.

“Yeah, me too.”
I shake my head and try to look as sad as him. But it’s hard. “Let’s go to
something else. What about the one based on that Stephen King book?” A snuggle
up scary movie, if ever there was one.

“You like that
sort of thing?” His voice is a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

“Sure. I love
his books and most of the movies have been really good. Don’t you like him?” Hope
I’m not stepping too far away from my newly cultivated image. I don’t want to
blow everything.

“He’s okay. Not
my first choice, but I’m game if you are.” He shrugs.

After buying the
tickets we head for the popcorn and buy a very large, as in the largest, tub.
At last. Something we’re in accord about. I toy with asking for one of those
ice-creams covered in chocolate and nuts as well, but decide he might think me
greedy. Especially as we’ve only just eaten tea.

“Shall we sit in
the back row?” he whispers in my ear as we walk in and see the advertisements
already playing. “There are a couple of empty seats up there.”

Back row. Like
he needs to ask. Things are definitely looking up.

The film starts
pretty much as soon as we sit down, so no time for any cozy head-next-to-head
chatting. And the popcorn is on the armrest between us. I think about moving it
onto my lap which means Guy would have to lean over every time he wants some,
but I don’t want him to think I’m taking it so I can eat it all. Of course, I
could place it in his lap then I’d have to lean over and who knows what might
happen when I’m fumbling in the dark and not concentrating where my hand is
going because my eyes are glued to the screen. Trouble is if I do that he might
go bouncing up on stage at the next VC meeting dragging me with him to confess
all my impure thoughts—something to be avoided at all costs. I didn’t realize
popcorn could be at the centre of such monumental decisions. Maybe it’s for the
best if I leave it where it is.

I reach into the
tub to grab a handful, except my hand isn’t the only one in there.

“Sorry,” I
whisper.

“No worries,”
Guy replies, quickly taking his hand out of the tub. You know what, I can see
me and the Handbook coming to serious blows if this is how it’s going to affect
any physical contact between us.

The movie sucks
me in almost straight away and before I know it the credits are rolling and I
suddenly remember Guy is sitting beside me.

“Starbucks?” Guy
asks as we leave the movies.

Before I have
the chance to do anything other than nod he starts to walk down the street in
the direction of Starbucks which is only half a block away.

It’s fairly
packed when we get there, but I spy a table in the corner.

“I’ll grab us
somewhere to sit,” I say. “Can you get me a caramel frappuchinno please.”

As he strides toward
the counter I suddenly panic that I didn’t offer any money to pay for it. The
last thing I want is for him to think I’m a freeloader. Mind you I did pay for
the popcorn. Then again he did pay for the tickets.

From where I’m
sitting I get a clear view of him from behind. You know, he definitely has a
good butt. In fact he’s pretty well stacked in every department. Well, every
department that I’ve been able to see. Of course, now I’m in the VC admiring
from afar is the only thing I will be doing.

He seems to be
lining up for ages, during which time I’ve scrutinized everyone in the place,
bitten my thumb nail—which I’m really cross about—and made a tiny hole in my
top from pulling a long thread.

“Sorry it took
so long,” Guy says when he finally gets to the table. “There’s a new guy
working and it took him ages to work out what went into each thing.”

A new guy eh? I
wonder if it’s the guy Amy was talking about? Although that was days ago so
you’d have thought he’d have learnt how to do everything by now.

“That’s okay.” I
take a long sip of my ice cold drink. “Mmm. Well for a new guy he did just
fine. You know I’m definitely addicted to these. I could drink them every day
and still not be fed up.”

Guy laughs, and
takes a sip from his mug containing what looks like ordinary coffee.

“I’m not keen. I
prefer my coffee straight.” He definitely needs educating in the ways of
caffeine—and I’m just the girl to do it.

“Are you sure I
can’t tempt you with a sip?” I wave my plastic cup under his nose, but he
shakes his head and laughs.

“Thanks but no.”
He places his mug on the table and gazes at me in a sort of soppy way. “You’re
so sweet, Suzy. You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve liked anyone as much
as I like you.”