Okay, maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe I was just projecting (which is a term we learned in Psych for when you attribute your own unwanted thoughts to someone else as a defense mechanism). Maybe I was still wound up from what had happened the night before, with Michael leaving the party, and all.
But in any case, I went, “There is too a problem. You think I’m doing the wrong thing, saying yes to J.P. when I still have feelings for Michael.” (Yeah, I know. Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I was like, What are you saying? Shut up, Mia. But I couldn’t shut myself up. I just kept talking. It was like a nightmare.)
“Well,” I went on, “I’ll have you know that I don’t. Have feelings for Michael anymore. I’ve moved on from Michael. Well and truly moved on. Last night when he walked out the way he did was the last straw. And I’ve decided that after the prom, J.P. and I are going to Do It. Yes. We are.” Honestly, I have no idea where this was coming from. I think I just thought of it at that very moment. “I’m tired of being the last virgin girl in our senior class. No way am I going to start college with my innocence still intact. Even though I probably lost it a long time ago on a bike or whatever.”
Tina was still doing the big-eyed, I don’t know what you’re talking about act.
“Okay, Mia,” she said. “Whatever you say. You know I support you whatever you decide.”
ARGH! She is so frustratingly NICE sometimes!
“In fact,” I said, whipping out my iPhone. “I’m going to text J.P. right now. Yes! Right now! And tell him to get a hotel room for after the prom!”
Tina’s eyes were HUGE now. She went, “Mia. Are you really sure you want to do this? You know, there’s really nothing wrong with being a virgin. Lots of people our age—”
“Too late!” I yelled.
I swear I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was because a few minutes before, J.P.’s ring had gotten snagged on Stacey Cheeseman’s eyelet ponytail holder as she walked down the hall. Maybe it was all the PRESSURE that was on me…finals, Dad’s election, everyone telling me I had to choose a college by the end of the week, the thing with Michael, Lilly being so nice to me all of a sudden…I don’t know. Maybe it was just everything.
Anyway, I texted, MAKE SURE WE R GETTING A HOTEL RM 4 AFTR PROM to J.P.
It was right after that that a toilet flushed. And a stall door opened.
And Lilly walked out.
I nearly had a synaptic breakdown right there in the girls’ bathroom. I just stood there staring at her, realizing she’d overheard everything I’d said—about finally being over Michael, and about being a virgin….
…and that I was texting J.P. to get a hotel room for after the prom.
Lilly looked right back at me. She didn’t utter a word. (Neither, needless to say, did I. I couldn’t think of a word to say. Later, of course, I thought of a million things I should have said. Like that Tina and I had just been rehearsing a scene from a play or something.)
Then Lilly turned around, walked over to the sinks, rinsed her hands, dried, tossed her paper towel, and left the room.
All in complete and utter silence.
I looked at Tina, who stared back at me with her huge, troubled eyes…eyes, I realized now, that had never been anything but filled with concern for me.
“Don’t worry, Mia” were the first words from Tina’s lips. “She won’t tell Michael. She wouldn’t. I know she wouldn’t.”
I nodded. Tina knew no such thing. She was just being nice. The way Tina always is.
“You’re right,” I said. Even though she wasn’t. “And even if she does…he doesn’t care anymore. I mean, obviously he doesn’t care anymore, or he wouldn’t have walked out last night like he did.”
This, at least, was true.
Tina bit her lip.
“Of course,” she said. “You’re right. Only, Mia…don’t you think—”
Only I never found out what it was Tina wanted to know that I thought, because my cell phone buzzed. And there was a text message back from J.P.
And it said:
HOTEL ROOM ALREADY SECURED. ALL SYSTEMS GO. LUV U.
So. Great!
That’s taken care of. Yay! I’m about to become devirginized.
Go me.
Tuesday, May 2, 6 p.m., the loft
Daphne Delacroix
1005 Thompson Street, Apt. 4A
New York, NY 10003
Dear Ms. Delacroix,
We regret that we are unable to publish the enclosed material. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read it.
Sincerely,
The Editors
And…the hits just keep coming.
I walked into the loft and found (besides this letter) Mom with every college-acceptance packet I’ve ever received spread out on the floor and Rocky sitting in the middle of it all like the stamen of a flower (if the stamen of a flower ever drank from a Dora the Explorer sippy cup). Mom looked at me and went, “We’re picking a college for you. Tonight.”
“Mom,” I said crankily. “If this is about J.P. and the ring thing—”
“This is about you,” Mom said. “And your future.”
“I’m going to college, all right? I said I’d choose one by the election. I’ve got till then. I can’t handle this right now, I’ve got a Trig final tomorrow I have to study for now.”
Also, I’m going to be devirginized after the prom on Saturday. Only I didn’t mention this part to her. Obviously.