Tina widened her mascaraed eyes at me. 'You don't?'
'No,' I said, miserably. 'I mean, I really like him, as a friend. But I'm not in love or anything. Not with him.'
'Oh, God,' Tina said, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. 'There's someone else, isn't there?'
We only had a few minutes before the bell rang. We both had to get to class.
And yet, for some reason, I chose this moment to make my big confession. I don't know why. It's just that I can't stop thinking about what my dad said. You know, about showing the guy I like how I feel. Tina, I felt, was the only person I knew who would know how to help me do that.
So I went, 'Yes.'
Tina nearly spilled her cosmetic bag, she was so excited.
'I knew it!' she yelled. 'I knew there was a reason you wouldn't let him kiss you!'
My jaw dropped. 'You know about that too?'
'Well.' Tina shrugged. 'Kenny told Dave, who told me.'
Jeez! What's that Oprah's always complaining about -about how men aren't in touch with their emotions and don't share enough? It sounds to me like Kenny's been doing enough sharing recently to make up for several centuries worth of masculine reticence.
'So who is he?' Tina asked, all eagerly, as she packed up her eyelash curler and lip-liner. 'The guy you like?'
I went, 'It doesn't matter. Besides, the whole thing is completely futile. He sort of has a girlfriend, I think.'
Tina whipped her head around to look at me, making her thick black braid smack her in her own face, which is chubby, but
in a good way.
'It's Michael, isn't it?' she demanded, grabbing my arm again. She was holding on so tight, it hurt.
My instinctive reaction, of course, was to deny it. In fact, I even opened my mouth, all set to have the word 'no' come out of it.
But then I was like, Why? Why should I deny it to Tina? Tina wouldn't tell anyone. And she might be able to help me.
So instead of saying No, I took a deep breath and said, 'If you tell anyone, I'll kill you, understand? KILL YOU.'
Tina did a strange thing then. She let go of my arm and started jumping up and down in a circle.
'I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,' she said as she jumped. Then she stopped jumping and grabbed my arm again. 'Oh, Mia,
I always thought you two would make the cutest couple. I mean, I like Kenny and all, but he's, you know.' She wrinkled up
her nose. 'No Michael.'
If I had thought it felt strange last night telling my dad the truth about my feelings for Michael, that was nothing — NOTHING - compared to how it felt to be telling someone my own age. The fact that Tina hadn't burst out laughing or gone, 'Yeah, right,'
in a sarcastic way meant more to me than I ever would have expected.
And the fact that she seemed to understand - even applaud - my feelings for Michael made me want to fling my arms around her and give her a great big hug.
Only there was no time for that since the bell was about to ring.
Instead, I gushed, 'Really? You really don't think it's stupid?'
'Duh,' Tina said. 'Michael is hot. And he's a senior.' Then she looked troubled. 'But what about Kenny? And Judith?'
'I know,' I said, my shoulders slumping in a manner that would have caused Grandmere to rap me on the back of the head,
if she'd seen them. 'Tina, I don't know what to do.'
Tina's dark eyebrows furrowed with concentration.
'I think I read a book where this happened once,' she said. 'Love's Tender Storm, it was called, I think. If I could just remember how they resolved everything—'
But before she could remember, the bell rang. We were both totally late to class.
But, if you ask me, it was worth it. Because now, at least, I don't have to worry alone. I have somebody else worrying with me.
Monday, December 7, Gifted and Talented
Lunch was a disaster.
Considering that everybody in the entire school seems to know, in the minutest detail, exactly what I've been doing -or not doing - with my tongue lately, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. But it was even worse than I could have imagined.
That's because I ran into Michael at the salad bar. I was creating my usual chickpea and pinto bean pyramid when I saw him headed for the burger grill (despite my best efforts, both Moscovitzes remain stubbornly carnivorous).
Seriously, all I did was say 'Fine' when he asked how I was doing. You know, on account of how last time he saw me I was bleeding from the mouth (what a nice picture that must have been. I am so glad that I have been able to maintain an
appearance of dignity and beauty at all times in front of the man I love).
Anyway, then I asked him, just to be polite, you know, how his dentist appointment went. It's not my fault, what happened next.
Which was that Michael started telling me about how he'd had to have this cavity filled and that his lips were still numb from
the novocaine. Seeing as how I have experienced a certain amount of sensation-deadening, what with my gouged tongue, I could relate to this, so I just sort of, you know, looked at Michael's lips while he was talking, which I have never really done before. I mean, I have looked at other parts of Michael's body (particularly when he comes into the kitchen in the morning
with no shirt on, like he does every time I sleep over at Lilly's). But I've never really looked at his lips. You know. Up close.