“Yeah, but I’m done now.”
Sara looks at me skeptically.
“I’m serious. I’m ready for my break.”
“Okay.” Sara stretches her arms out. "I guess we could take a break. A short one.”
“What should we do?” I attempt to telepathically convince Sara to announce that we should hook up.
“Talk,” she says.
“Oh.Yeah. Well . . . okay.”
“Is there something you’d rather do?”
"Who, me? Nah. Talking’s good.”
“Good.” Sara pulls her legs against her chest. She wraps her arms around her legs.
“What do you want to talk about?” I try to get comfortable.
“Relationships,” she says.
Suddenly things take on a serious tone. I hope this isn’t one of those talks where you have to go over the details of every single girl you’ve ever jerked off to. Sara doesn’t seem like the jealous type. But you never know.
“Okay,” I say.
“I was just wondering . . .” Sara traces her finger in circles on her knee.
“Yeah?” Maybe we’ll be done talking soon and she’ll want to hook up. If we still have some break time left. I try to arrange my expression so it appears interested.
“Have you ever... I mean I know I’m not your first girlfriend or anything, but . . . were you ever . . . like . . . serious about anyone else?”
I take a few seconds before answering. Girls ask you things that sound one way but really mean something else. What does Sara want to know? If I ever liked anyone else as much as her?
Does she think I’m a virgin?
“Um.” I decide clarification is the best approach. “Do you mean did I have a girlfriend for a long time?”
“Yeah.”
“Not really.”
“Did you ever go out with Cynthia?”
“Sort of.” This part can get tricky. Having sex with someone and going out with them are two different things. I never considered Cynthia to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to lie to Sara. But I also don’t want to tell her a bunch of stuff that’s just going to make her obsess and worry. Does she really need to know about every girl I’ve hooked up with? Not that it’s that many. And is this the right time to admit that I slept with Cynthia? I just think it’s unnecessary to tell her all of that. At least, it is at this point. “I haven’t had a long-term girlfriend, though.”
“How long did you go out with her?”
“Not too long.”
“So how long was your longest relationship?”
“Uh . . . three months?”
“What happened with
that
girl?”
“You mean why did we break up?”
“Yeah.”
“She was kind of neurotic . . . and, like, really goth and depressing all the time.”
“Who was it?”
“You know Brenda?”
Sara nods.
“Brenda.”
Sara presses her lips together. She nods some more.
“How long did you and Scott go out for?”
“Most of last year.”
“What happened with you guys?” I’m sure she didn’t sleep with
that
dork.
Sara picks a piece of bubble wrap off the floor. My dad got a new computer last week. I kept the bubble wrap from the box. I like to pop it when I’m stressed.
Sara pops the bubble wrap. “Scott’s a great guy. It’s just . . . he didn’t make my record skip.”
I knew it.
I laugh. "Been there.”
“Yeah.”
“Do
I
?”
“Do you what?”
“Make your record skip.”
“Pretty much,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sara smiles. She just looks so cute.
I lean over.
“Don’t go there.” She holds up her hand.
“Why not?”
“We have to study.”
“But—”
“I want to, but we can’t. You have to focus, or you’ll never get through everything.”
“Man, you’re harsh.”
“Break is over.” Sara picks up one of the physics piles. “Back to work.”
"Okay...well...am I allowed to go to the store? We’re out of snacks.”
Sara gives me a look like I’m trying to get out of studying.
“No, I’m serious! If I’m working insane hours, my body requires very specific types of fuel.”
“Like what?”
“Like Mallomars and Oreos and—”
“Oooh! The ones with the mint filling?”
“Those would be them.”
Sara bites her lip. “Okay, you can go.”
“Thanks.You want anything else?”
“Just those. Thanks.”
“Cool.” I don’t get up. “Can I have a good-bye kiss?”
“Yeah. But just one!”
“Understood.” I crawl over to Sara. She giggles.
“Just one,” I whisper.Then I kiss her.
The hardest thing I do all week is get off my bed. And leave the house. While my parents still aren’t home.
CHAPTER 33
real experiences
december 22, 4:15 p.m.
I have no idea why I’m this nervous.
But I am.
I’m like, “So this is my room.”
But what it really feels like is,
Here’s my bed and some other stuff
.
“I like it,” Tobey says.
Is he looking at my bed? Why does my bed feel like it’s the only thing in the room?
“Seriously?” I say.
“Completely. It’s so you.”
“It’s way too small. And this desk is just like . . .” I make a face like,
Who else has a desk like this?
“It’s cool. Is that burlap?”
“Yeah.”
“Kickin’ it old-school.”
“Unfortunately.”
Tobey looks at the things on my shelves. “You have a xylophone?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Random!”
“Totally. Yeah, my old babysitter gave it to me when I was, like, five.”
“Can you play?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s cool,” Tobey says. “I haven’t mastered the art of xylophone yet. Maybe you can teach me.”
“Sure.” I quickly check the back of my door to make sure I didn’t leave any bras hanging there. “It’s an experience you don’t want to miss.”
Tobey smiles at me. “I have a feeling you’ll be showing me a lot of those.”
I feel my cheeks get hot. “And . . .” I go over to my bed. I’m desperately trying to divert Tobey’s attention away from my burning face. But diverting the attention to my bed was an example of bad decision-making skills in action. Now I’m blushing even more because I’m sitting on my bed. “This is Chez.” I pick up my stuffed koala bear I’ve had since before I can remember. “It’s short for Mr. Chester M. Wick.”
“I dig his shirt,” Tobey says. Chez wears a vintage
Late Night with David Letterman
T-shirt. “I’m a total Dave fanatic.”
“Me, too! Whenever there’s someone good on, I tape him and watch it after school.”
Tobey goes, “Same. Except now I have so much to do . . . it’s quite possible I’ll never see Dave again.”
“That is just not true. You already have straight A’s so far. And after your apps are in and your makeup work is done, all you have to do is keep up. It’s easy.”
“Maybe for you. . . .”
“It will be for you, too. You’ll see.”
Tobey goes over to my CD rack. I watch him inspect my CDs. I always thought that if a guy really liked me, he’d at least make an effort to see what kind of music I was into. Dave would only pick out the ones he had and then play those. But Tobey’s really looking at all of them. I hope he likes what I like. Not that we have to like
all
the same things. I just love how we have so much in common.
“I can’t believe you have this!” He holds up The Shins. “The Shins are sick!”
“Why can’t you believe it?”
“I don’t know. You just seem . . . I didn’t know you were into alternative stuff.” He picks up another CD. “Who’s Nick Drake?”
“Put it on. He’s awesome.”
Tobey puts the CD on. Then he comes over and hugs me. I lean my head on his chest.
“I want to know everything about you,” he whispers.
“Same here,” I whisper back.
There’s so much I want to say to him. I’m dying to tell him everything I’m thinking. But I don’t want to freak him out.
Tobey starts swaying to the music. I sway with him. I love the way it feels like Tobey’s really with me, like he’s not holding any part of himself back.
The song ends.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper.
“Right now?” Tobey whispers.
“Yeah.”
“I’m thinking I can’t believe we’re finally together.” He moves his hand down my hair.
That’s when I realize it would be impossible to freak him out with how I feel about him. Because I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“I think . . .” My heart almost stops for a second. “I think . . . I’m falling in love with you.”
Tobey doesn’t freak out. He kisses me over and over, barely pressing his lips against mine.
After he leaves, I turn the lights off. I put
Disintegration
in my CD player and lie down on my bed. I listen to the whole thing, replaying what just happened five hundred times in my head, over and over until I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to think of anything else again.
The next day is the day I agreed to do something totally out of character for me. Tobey said since I turned him on to a new way of life, he wants me to experience part of his old way of life. It will be the first time for me and the last time for him. Since it’s the last day before Christmas break and most teachers are doing games and stuff anyway, I don’t feel too guilty about our plan. Plus everyone’s all hyper, like wearing tinsel and giving out candy canes and cards, which is annoying and makes me want to leave.
In homeroom, I’m ignoring Caitlin & Co. They’ve been ignoring me since Dave and I split anyway, so it’s not that hard. But it’s pathetic that whether Caitlin talks to me depends on who I’m going out with. So I’m focusing on drawing a blue door in my sketchbook. The thing about this door is that it also comes with two blue porch lights. They symbolize a source of pure blue energy. I swear I was a moth in another life. I’m drawn to lights, any lights, especially at night. But blue lights in particular always make me get this intense feeling.
On my way to gym, I throw my stuff in my locker. There’s a neon orange Post-it note stuck up. It says:
I peel off the note and stick it inside my sketchbook. It’s already obvious that I’m going to do a page about this day. Whenever something major is happening in my life, I mentally design the sketchbook page to document it later. But I’m still in the moment, feeling everything, so I put my sketchbook away.
This is too exciting. And also scary. What if we get caught? I don’t know how I’m supposed to function like a normal person until ninth period.
I can’t eat my lunch.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Laila asks.
“Nerves.”
“Relax,” Maggie says. “It’ll be fab.”
“Are you actually going through with this?” Laila squints at me.
“Yes. I promised Tobey.”
“I don’t know why it’s so important to him,” Laila says. “Isn’t he reformed?”
“The point is to share something about his past life so I can understand where he’s coming from better. And he says I’ll have a ridiculous amount of fun.”
“Hmmm.” Laila bites into her soggy cafeteria pizza.
“And it’s the last time I’ll get to do something like this,” I say. “I don’t want to graduate and be sitting around on some random porch ten years from now, regretting. You have to live in the moment. You can’t let experiences pass you by without doing anything about it.”
“Preach it, sister girl.” Maggie waves her hand in the air.
“Can I sit with you guys?”
We look up at Josh. He looks like a lost puppy.
“Um.” I look over at Laila and Maggie. Sometimes Tobey sits with us, but we haven’t advanced to the stage of combining lunch tables yet.
"Uh...”
Laila mouths
No!
to me.
Maggie jumps in. “It’s just that we’re talking about . . . girl stuff. It would be boring for you.”
“Oh, I don’t think that would be boring at all. In fact, it’s one of my favorite topics.” He has this big cheesy smile.
“Where’s Tobey?” I ask him.
“I don’t know. Somewhere with Mike. They like spending quality time alone together.” Josh gives me a look. “I’d be worried if I were you, Sara.”
I laugh. Josh is such a case.
“Grimy,” Maggie says.
There’s that big cheesy smile again.
Maggie smiles a little.
He goes, “Anyway . . . later.” He lopes off toward the drama geeks’ table.
Laila scrutinizes Maggie’s face. “What’s up with you?”
"What?” Maggie sips her lemonade. "Nothing.”
“Nooo,” Laila presses. “Something is definitely up. I mean, other than Josh’s Mr. Happy.”
“Oh my god!” Maggie yells. “I so do not like him!”