When It Happens (12 page)

“Later,” I say. “Why?”

“I thought we could . . . you know.”

I’m like, “What?” Even though I know what. It’s the same thing he brings up every time we make out.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just this.” He starts kissing me.

It’s weird how one minute I’m all tense and the next minute all my stress disappears. Dave is gorgeous. Dave is kissing me. Dave can make me feel better. I kind of get why some relationships are only based on physical attraction.

He pulls me over to my bed and we sit down. He kisses me harder. I’m having a hard time remembering why I was upset before.

But then he reaches down to the floor and unzips his bag. And takes out a condom. And puts the condom on the bed.

How tacky is that?

Dave says, “You know you want to.” Then he smiles at me like he’s the most irresistible thing ever.

How condescending is that?

“Um . . . actually?” I say. “I’m not ready for that.”

His smile dissolves. “Why not?”

“I’m just not.”

“Maybe you need some convincing,” he says. He starts kissing me again. The bedsprings creak.

Nothing about this feels right anymore.

I push him away.

“What is it with you?” he says.

“What?”

“You always do this.”

“Always? Like it’s been that many times?”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” I say. “It’s only been five weeks.”

“Exactly. It’s been five weeks.”

“No, it’s
only
been five weeks. That’s nothing.”

“How long do you need?”

“I don’t know. Longer than this.”

Dave stares at me. “You’re never gonna have sex with me, are you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s the problem?”

“Nothing.”

“Why do you always say ‘nothing’?”

“Because nothing’s wrong.”

“Look,” Dave says. “I know something’s wrong. So what is it?”

I miss being able to put on my pajamas and chill in front of the TV and actually get all of my homework done before midnight. I mean, making out with my boyfriend would be preferable if it felt right. I might even want to sleep with him. But something’s still missing. “It’s just . . . I need to get my homework done.”

“But we always do homework.”

“That is so not true,” I tell him. “We always make out, and then I don’t have enough time to do anything.” I look at the condom. “And now . . .”

Dave looks at the condom. Then he leans toward me. “I really think we should,” he whispers.

“Why? Why is this so important to you?” I know guys are obsessed with sex, but this is ridiculous. Dave’s pushing it so much you’d think he’s desperate.

“Because you’re beautiful.” He kisses my neck. “And sexy.” He kisses my collarbone. “And I was hoping our first time could be together.” He kisses my shoulder.

“What?” What did he just say?
Our
first time? There’s no way he’s a virgin!

Dave stops kissing me. He’s like, “Oh, no, I meant . . . for you . . . it would mean a lot for...” But we both know what he meant.

Dave’s actually a virgin!

CHAPTER 20

a better plan

october 20, 1st period

Now that it’s getting colder and it’s so early in the morning, all the girls are wearing so many layers that you can hardly tell who’s who. But I still see Sara right away.

Coach bustles out ahead of us. He yells a lot through his bullhorn. We never really know who he’s talking to or what he’s saying. He noticed that I was lifting weights over the summer because the first thing he said in September was, "Tobey! Bulking up?”

As I pass through the gates to the track now, he says, “Tobey! Still lifting?”

“Yeah,” I tell him.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind about spring track.” Ever since freshman year when Coach got me to join track for a nanosecond, he hasn’t given up on the idea that I’m coming back. I’m tall and thin, and these are supposed to be good qualities for running.

“I don’t think so,” I tell him. “But thanks.”

“Well, think about it.”

“Sure,” I say, so he’ll leave me alone.

As we start running, Mike says,“Are you gonna do it?”

“Yeah,” I tell him.

Even though I thought of this plan a while ago, it needed some serious refining. I might even have to make more attempts before I get the results I want. We’ll see how it goes today.

We run. I look around for Sara. We have to do three laps but the girls only do one, so I usually only have one chance to pass her.

I see Sara running ahead of us with Maggie. I speed up to get to her.

“You the man!” Josh yells after me.

I’m running really fast, psyched by my plan. When I’m right behind Sara and Maggie, I slow down. I try to hear what they’re saying. These annoying loud girls are next to me. I turn to see who they are.

I couldn’t have planned it any better.

Normally, I try to avoid Cynthia. I never run with her or even let her get close to me. But now I need her.

“Oh,
hi
, Tobey!” Cynthia says loudly. Even though we’re over, she still acts all flirty whenever she sees me. She’s all, “Wow, you’re wearing shorts! Aren’t you cold?”

“No,” I say. I watch Sara’s back. I can’t tell if she’s listening.

“Have you been working out?” Cynthia says. She grabs my arm. “Your arms are
definitely
bigger than before!” Cynthia digs her nails into my bicep. She keeps running right next to me, smiling up at me, clenching my arm.

That’s when Sara turns around to look.

“Yeah,” I tell Cynthia. "You can tell?”

“Oh,
definitely
! Do you work out every day?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“You can totally tell,” she says.

We get to the gate. The girls walk off the track, heading back inside.

“Bye,Tobey!” Cynthia calls over her shoulder.

I wave back and keep running.

Sara doesn’t look back at all. She just keeps walking.

I let Mike and Josh catch up to me.

“Dude!” Josh says. “So what happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did it work or not?” Mike says.

“I think so,” I say. But instead of feeling all excited about it, I feel kind of guilty. "But it didn’t work out like I thought it would.”

“Did she see you?” Mike says.

“I saw you!” Josh says. “Could Cynthia be any more in your pants?”

“She saw,” I say. "She wasn’t happy about it.”

“Victorious!” Mike says. “You’re in!”

I know what happened had some effect on Sara. I could just feel it when she looked at me, how she walked away. So I should be stoked. . . .

Music is the only thing that can take me away from the pain. It’s my drug of choice. So that afternoon I ram on my guitar. We’ve decided to do a classic rock number for Battle of the Bands next month and one of our own as an encore. Mike thinks we have a better chance of making it to the final round that way.

The last two times we practiced, Mike and Josh had to leave early to do homework. I hope that doesn’t happen tonight. I need this.

But then Mike is talking about that Spanish project, and he’s like, "Yo. I gotta bounce.”

“Seriously, man,” Josh says. “I haven’t even started the outline.”

Somehow I thought being in a band would be more exciting than this.

“Isn’t it due tomorrow?” Mike says.

“Yeah,” Josh says.

They start packing up their stuff.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“You guys can’t leave yet,” I say. “We didn’t even get through ‘Ahab’s Fish.’ ”

“Dude,” Mike says. “If I don’t go right now? My mom’s gonna freak. Plus, I have math and . . . I don’t want to fall behind too much.”

“Why not?” I say. “What’s the difference?”

Mike walks up to me. He stands real close. “Why do you always do this to yourself?”

“What?”

“What are you up to on your project?”

“What makes you think I started it?”

“You’re a trip, Tobey.”

“I’m beginning to think you guys don’t care about the band anymore,” I say.

“Okay. Dude? I don’t know about you, but I want to go to a decent college next year. I don’t always have time to fuck around like you do.” Mike bends down to tie his sneaker.

“I’m not fucking around. This is what I want to do with my life. You know that.” What is it with everyone ganging up on me?

I take my guitar strap off.

“Look,” Mike says. “You should reconsider about the whole anti-college stance. Even Josh is going.”

“Hey!” Josh yells. “Thanks a lot!”

“You know what I mean,” Mike says.

“Yeah,” I say. "I get it.”

What I get is that even my friends think I’m wasting my life. It’s like everyone has this attitude that if you don’t go to college, you’re nothing. Screw that. If that’s what it takes to show everyone who I am, then fine. Maybe I will apply. Just to show them.

CHAPTER 21

conundrum

october 20, 8:26 a.m.

Can I just say that gym is the absolute worst?

I have a new rant page in my sketchbook. I’m ranting about the lack of connection with Dave and how we hardly have anything in common and how conceited his friends are and, now, the torture that is gym.

And I hate changing for gym. Naturally, Maggie doesn’t have to worry about simple everyday things like changing. This is because she’s physically perfect. But I’m a different story. There’s this whole complicated production I have to go through every single day to change for gym. I try to keep this entire changing procedure under three-point-two seconds.

First I sniff the shirt that’s in my locker to make sure it doesn’t smell too bad. Even if it does, I still have to wear it. But then I know not to stand too close to anyone.

Next I look around to see if anyone’s watching. If no one is, I face the corner and quickly switch shirts. If someone’s looking, then I have to wait.

Putting on sweatpants is the most complicated part because this is when my whole gross butt is hanging out for everyone to see. And I hate my thighs. I’ve tried wrapping a towel around myself, changing in the bathroom, or not changing at all. But then everyone makes fun of me more for being so weird. Even though Maggie insists I look totally thin, I don’t really believe her.

Today we’re playing pickle ball. Pickle ball is this game where you get in a pair with these big paddles and a whiffle ball. Then you take turns smacking the ball against the wall. I like this game because it’s fun without being sweaty. And I can actually hit the ball sometimes.

“It’s Agassi’s serve, and Roddick waits eagerly to smash the ball to pieces.” I hunker down in front of the wall, shifting my weight back and forth and swinging my paddle.

“But, wait!” Maggie screams. She slams the ball. I jump up with my paddle over my head, but the ball is about ten miles away. “Roddick is experiencing technical difficulty. Please stand by for Agassi’s win.”

“Silence on the court!” I order.

After twenty more minutes of Agassi stomping Roddick, Ms. Spencer blows her whistle. “Okay, ladies!” she yells. “Let’s hit it!”

We walk out to the track to run a lap. This is so we can benefit from the added humiliation of the boys checking us out in our scuzzy gym clothes. It’s already freezing, and it’s only October. Hasn’t New Jersey ever heard of fall? Running in these arctic conditions makes my lungs ache and my throat burn. I refuse to believe it’s good for you. At least there’s the possibility of seeing Tobey to distract me.

We filter out onto the track. I reluctantly start running. Maggie’s talking about her parents. How they’re always fighting when her dad’s home. How miserable her mom is when he’s not.

“Did you find out what’s wrong yet?” I say.

“No one tells me anything. But I heard my mom saying how if my dad’s not attracted to her anymore, he should admit it and stop running away.”

“What did he say?”

“I couldn’t hear. I think . . .”

“Have you been working out?” a voice screeches behind me. “Your arms are
definitely
bigger than before!”

I turn around to see what’s happening. I immediately wish I could take it back. Just turn back around and pretend that Tobey still likes me and only me.

Did Cynthia say “before”? Did he used to go out with her? She’s such a skanky ho-bag! I thought Tobey told Laila he likes me. Which was the whole reason for switching partners in Music Theory next week. So what is this?

I turn back around. I speed up.

“What’s wrong?” Maggie says.

“I’ll tell you later,” I mumble. I hate how jealous I feel.

I think about Tobey a lot. Way more than I think about Dave. Which is so weird since I don’t even know him. But Tobey just seems so sweet. And those eyes. Sometimes I can’t even sleep.

This conundrum calls for an emergency Burger King lunch conference.

It’s tradition for Laila and Maggie and me to go to Burger King whenever we have something major to discuss. But it’s not tradition for one of us to have a boyfriend waiting. We’re deciding what to tell him on the way to the cafeteria.

“Just tell him we’re going,” Maggie says.

“I can’t.”

“What?” Laila says. “Like he has you on a leash? You’re allowed to do what you want.”

“What’s the emergency anyway?” Maggie says.