"For who?" Nathan responds, walking right past me.
We're in the hall on the fortieth floor of the building with nobody else around. Nathan is in front of his door and I'm in front of mine. I look down the hall at him while he fishes for his keys. "For nobody, Nathan. That was a joke. You obviously don't like girls."
He gives a short, cynical laugh. "Whatever you say, Barbie. Did anyone ever tell you you smell like fruit?"
"Stop calling me Barbie!" I yell, ignoring the fruit comment for the moment. Nathan doesn't respond as he opens the door to his condo and slams the door shut behind him.
The door quickly opens to my condo and my dad rushes at me. "What's wrong? Who are you yelling at?"
"Nobody, Dad."
"I heard you yelling. Are you okay?"
"Don't spaz on me. I'm fine," I say, then brush past him.
My dad follows me to my bedroom, my private sanctuary where I go to be alone. "I'm your father. I have a right to spaz. Why are you acting like this? And why do you smell like bananas?"
I give him my famous sneer. "Acting like what?"
"Like you're angry with the world."
"I'm not angry with the world; the world is angry with me. And for your information, I sat on a banana. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like some privacy so I can change." That gets him to leave pretty quick.
After I shimmy out of my now crusty jeans, I dress in pj's and head down the hall to brush my teeth and scrub my face. With all the stress I'm under, I'm bound to get a zit or two...or twenty. I'm in the bathroom, scrubbing my lips and that kiss away with a washcloth. Back in my room, I look up and see my dad standing in the doorway.
He leans against the door frame. "I admit I'm not used to teenage girl problems. But I'm here to listen."
I can tell he's mentally preparing for some heavy discussion. He's not used to heavy teenage girl problem discussions. My dad is such a guy. He needs some feminine influence in his life. "Why don't you want a girlfriend?"
"Because relationships are a time commitment."
I roll my eyes and say, "It's no secret you have commitment problems. Let's just get that out in the open. Are you refusing to date because you're in love with my mom?"
"I'm not talking about this with you."
"Why not? You're obviously not talking about it with anyone else. And if you think by working yourself to death you can hide from the truth, you can't."
"I'm committed to you, Amy. I hardly have time to spend with my own daughter these days, which is killing me inside. How can I add something else to take me away from my family?"
"You call two people a family?"
"Yes."
My poor dad doesn't get it. "What about when I go to college? You'll be all alone while Marc and Mom have more babies together. And what about after you retire? You'll be sitting at home by yourself with nothing to keep you company but a set of dentures and an old, wrinkly body."
The side of his mouth quirks up in amusement. "Thanks for painting the full picture. Consider me officially forewarned of my future fate."
"Great. Now will you go on a date?"
"No. But I'm coming home early tomorrow to spend time with you. After working at Perk Me Up!, I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Tov?"
Leave it to my dad to slide in a Hebrew word now and then. " Tov" I say back.
When he leaves my room, I let out a long, frustrated sigh and look over at my cell phone. I was really rude to Miranda tonight in the car. I practically told her to shut up. And I hate fighting with Jessica. Every time we argue I feel sick.
I decide to text Jessica.
Me: You there?
Jess: No.
Me: Want to talk?
Jess: No.
Me: Fine.
Jess: Fine.
Crossing my room to my desk, I take out the CA student directory and dial Miranda's number.
"Hello?"
"Miranda?"
"Yeah."
"It's Amy. Um...I just wanted to say I'm sorry I was kinda rude tonight. I mean, if I hurt your feelings I didn't mean to. It was the banana incident and--"
"And your fight with Jessica," she says, stating the obvious.
"Yeah, that too. Well, I just wanted to apologize."
"Apology accepted."
Phew. One person to check off my list of people pissed with me. "Maybe we could hang out sometime."
I think Miranda just dropped the phone, 'cause I hear this big bang on the other end of the line. She recovers pretty quickly, though. "You really want to hang out with me?"
"Sure. I know you're in pretty much all AP classes and I'm not, but you were really cool tonight."
"Wow. Thanks," Miranda says excitedly. "You're way more popular than me, Amy, but you must know that. I just thought you would think I was lame like the other girls at school...well, except Jessica. Although Jessica and I don't hang out unless it's for the youth group."
Here's the thing about popularity: it's the ones who declare themselves popular who usually get pegged as popular. You've got to know how to talk big and act like you're someone important and people will treat you like you're big and important. My wonderful mother taught me to be who I want to be without making excuses. I admit sometimes I go a bit overboard with my comments and actions, but I have a conscience. I apologize.