What My Girlfriend Doesn't Know
Page 13
she should go through with it.
Then she squeezes her eyes closed and says it:
“I’m not really eighteen—I’m sixteen.”
Geez … it’s lucky I’m already lying down,
or I probably would have fallen over just now.
I thought I was the only one
hiding something.
I grin at her and say, “That’s so great.
You mean you’re just a year older than me?”
“Well,” she says,
“a year and a quarter, actually.”
And both of us crack up.
But a Second Later, Tessa Stops Laughing
“Hey, wait a minute,” she says.
“How come you lied to us about your age?”
“I didn’t lie,” I protest. “You just never asked me.”
Then I say, “How come you lied?”
Tessa gets this real serious look on her face.
“Because if word gets out about how young I am,
none of the guys at Harvard
will want to go out with me.”
“You think?” I say.
“I know,” she says.
“That’s been the pathetic story
of my pathetically nonexistent love life—
I skipped so many grades,
that by the time I got to high school,
I was three years younger than all the boys.
Three years younger and twice as smart.
Which is not a big turn-on for your average guy.”
Then Neil Sedaka Starts Singing “Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen”
Tessa looks into my eyes, bites her lower lip,
and says, “Okay. Pop quiz:
Which rock-and-roll-obsessed Harvard freshman
is sweet sixteen and never been kissed?”
She doesn’t mean
what I think she means, does she?
“Uh…” I say.
“… I give up. Which one?”
Tessa’s cheeks flush pink,
but she doesn’t say anything.
She just points
her finger
at herself.
And Then
Before I even realize what I’m saying,
I’m telling her not to worry about it,
telling her
that we can solve that problem right now.
And then I’m leaning in—
and I’m kissing her!
And her lips feel so hungry on mine …
so hungry and so hot …
And we’re kissing
and kissing and kissing …
drifting away
on an ocean of kisses …
and without any warning
Tessa takes hold of my hands
and slides them right up
underneath her shirt!
I’m Touching Her Breasts!
Actually touching
a girl’s breasts!
I can’t believe this is happening.
It’s too good to be true.
I’m finally doing
what I’ve wanted to do,
what I’ve ached to do
for so long.
This
feels amazing …
This feels
incredible …
This feels
awesome …
This feels
wrong.
I Pull My Hands Out from Under Tessa’s Shirt
“Tessa …” I say. “Tessa, wait…
I’m not sure we should be …
I mean,
maybe I shouldn’t be doing this …”
Tessa blinks at me in confusion
and says, “What’s the matter?”
“It’s just that I… I never told you …
I should have told you …”
“Told me what?” Tessa says.
“You mean about Sophie?”
My heart stops. “
You know about her?!”
“Last night on the phone.
You thought I was her, at first.
You sounded so happy when you said her name.
I thought maybe she was your—”
“Sophie’s my girlfriend, Tessa.
I’ve got a girlfriend.”
Tessa stares at me,
letting this news sink in.
Then she shrugs
and says, “That’s okay, Robin.
Then you and I can just be friends.
Friends with lots and lots and lots
of benefits.”
Its Okay with Tessa
But is it okay with me?
And what about Sophie?
Oh, man … it’s hard to think …
I’m so mixed up …
Tessa leans in and starts kissing me again …
God … this feels unbelievable …
I am so turned on right now …
so turned on … and so drunk …
“Are you … I mean …
are you sure you don’t mind?” I say.
“I’m positive,” she says. “I don’t need a boyfriend.
I just need someone I can, you know,
sort of practice with.”
“You don’t need any practice,” I say.
“You’re great at it already.”
And Tessa giggles as I slip my hands
back up underneath her shirt,
letting the vodka
and the kisses
and the soft, soft skin
carry me away.
But a Couple of Minutes Later
Something starts throbbing in my jeans …
my cell phone!
My stomach turns inside out—Sophie?
I dig it out of my pocket
and check the number.
Whew—it’s only my mom.
Not that I exactly wanna talk to her, either.
But she’ll freak if I don’t answer.
I haven’t checked in with my parents all day.
“’Sup, Mom?” I say.
“Your dad and I just saw a movie in the Square,
and we want to pick you up before we head home.”
No!
This can’t be happening.
“Can’t you just give me another half hour?”
But Mom says that they’re exhausted.
That they need to go home and go to bed—now.
And her voice has a real “that’s final” sound to it.
So I tell her I’ll meet them at the newsstand.
Then I hang up the phone and apologize to Tessa.
She just smiles and says, “Tomorrow?”
“Definitely,” I say.
And I kiss her one more time,
before I turn and stumble out the door.
When the Cold Air Hits Me
It sobers me up like a slap across the face.
But even so, if a cop asked me
to walk a straight line right now,
a zigzag would be all I could muster.
I climb into the car.
Will my parents
be able to tell I’m drunk?
Right away my dad starts sniffing the air.
“What’s that smell?” he says,
peering at me in the rearview mirror.
Oh, no! Is it the vodka?
“What smell?” I say.
“It’s sweet…” Mom says.
“Sort of fruity…”
“Ohhhh …” I say. “That smell.
We ate some strawberry Jell-O.”
“Jell-O!” Dad says,
pretending to be horrified.
“Those college kids
are such a bad influence on you!”
And both of them crack up.
I’m Not the Type of Person Who Gets Carsick
So how come on the way home,
whenever Dad speeds up
or swerves or steps on the brake,
the stuff in my stomach
feels like it’s churning around
inside a blender?
How come every time the tires hit a bump,
it feels like we’re slamming into
the side of a mountain?
How come I’m sitting here
covered with a clammy blanket
of cold sweat,
feeling greener
and greener and—
“Dad! Pull over!”
How come
I’m puking my guts out
right now?
Must have been
something
I ate.
I Can’t Sleep
So, I’m just lying here on my bed,
staring up at the dim white ceiling
as if it were a movie screen …
a movie screen
where I’m projecting my memories
like a film …
a film of what happened tonight
when Tessa and I were alone together
in her bedroom …
I’m watching myself kissing her,
watching Tessa pulling my hands up
underneath her shirt,
rewinding the film,
to watch that part
again and again and again …
What Do I Want?
I want it all.
And I should be able to have it all,
shouldn’t I?
Because Tessa knows about Sophie,
and she doesn’t mind.
And Sophie doesn’t know about Tessa,
so she doesn’t mind either.
And, I mean, if no one minds,
then no one’s getting hurt, right?
And if no one’s
getting hurt,
then there’s no reason for me
not to have it all.
Is there?
At Around Noon
My cell phone wakes me.
“Hey, Rockin’ Robin,” Tessa says.
And her voice sounds so …
so intimate and sexy
that just hearing it turns me on.
She asks me when I want to get together.
“What’s wrong with right now?” I say.
Tessa laughs, but she says she’s got to finish
writing a paper first.
So we make a plan to meet for dinner.
And it isn’t until I hang up the phone
and get out of bed to go to the bathroom,
that I suddenly notice
that my head feels like it’s filled with nails.
And that every move I make
sets them jangling and clanging
and crashing together.
So this
is what a hangover feels like.
I think
I’m gonna
die.
I’m Getting Ready to Meet Tessa
Checking myself out
in the mirror,
trying not to look
at the portrait I drew of Sophie,
trying to pretend
that she’s not up there on my wall,
staring at me
with her eyes full of questions,
questions
I don’t want to hear,
questions
I don’t know how to answer …
I know Sophie knows things sometimes.
But I sure hope she doesn’t know
about this.
Seeing Tessa
I thought maybe it was gonna be weird.
You know—
after everything we did last night.
I thought it might be
a little embarrassing, even,
now that neither one of us is drunk.
But it just seems regular,
like two friends having dinner together,
talking about rock and roll and stuff…
until Tessa’s knee brushes against mine,
and I let my eyes glance down at her chest,
and suddenly all I can think about is
how much I want to touch her breasts again,
how much I want to get her alone
and tear her sweater off
and just touch them
and touch them
and touch them …
Did Tessa Just Read My Mind?
Maybe she did.
Because she’s pulling on her jacket
and saying, “Come on.”
I follow her out of the restaurant
like I’ve been hypnotized,
follow her down an alley,
behind the building,
into the shadows
of a darkened doorway,
where
without saying a word,
we start kissing and groping
and grinding against each other,
till I can hardly
breathe.
Then a Car Whooshes Past
The light from its high beams
points at us like an accusing finger.
“Let’s go,” I say, tearing my lips from hers.
We step out of the doorway, out of the alley,
and hurry down Mass Ave together
toward Tessa’s dorm,
past the flower shop
and the stationery store,
past the drugstore and the bakery,
and that’s when I begin to notice them,
in every window
of every shop—
the red foil hearts,
the cupids with their bows and arrows,
the heart-shaped boxes of chocolate …
That’s when
I remember
that tomorrow
is Valentine’s Day.
And, Right Away, Sophie Pops into My Head
But just thinking about her
makes my chest ache so bad
that I practically feel
like I’m having a heart attack.
And that’s
when I realize
that I don’t want to go
to Tessa’s room with her,
that I can’t go
to Tessa’s room with her.
Because I belong
to Sophie,
body
and soul.
I Stop Right Where I Am
And grab Tessa’s arm.
“Wait,” I say. “Hold on a minute.”
She looks at me,
an uncertain smile flickering across her face.
“What is it, Robin?”
“Tessa,” I say, searching for the right words.
“Tessa, I really like you …
and I love making out with you, but—”
“I love making out with you, too,” she says.
“So what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Tessa.
I can’t go with you.
I thought I could do this …
this friends-with-benefits thing.
But I don’t feel right about it—because of Sophie.”
Tessa rakes her fingers through the flames
of her red hair, her face filling with shadows.
“I don’t understand, Robin.
How can you not feel right about
doing something that feels so fantastic?”
Then she grabs me
by the lapels of my coat
and gives me a fiery kiss,
throwing her whole self
into trying to get me
to change my mind.
But I Pull Away
Gently, so I won’t hurt her feelings.
Then I take hold of both her hands
and say, “I’m sorry, Tessa.”
She looks into my eyes
and sees that there’s nothing more
she can do.
“Damn …” she says, shaking her head.
“Why do you have to be so … so honorable?”
She’s smiling at me, but her eyes look misty.
I shrug, giving her hands a squeeze.
Then I say, “Ready for a pop quiz?”
“Sure,” she says. “Hit me with it.”
“Okay:
Which former pair of friends-with-benefits
will stay friends no matter what?”
“Don’t go getting all sappy on me,” she says,
giving me a playful shove.
But her voice sounds sort of quivery.
She leans in for one more kiss,
a sad, soft, this-is-the-last-time kind of kiss.
Then she breaks away to rush across the street.
I heave a sigh
as I watch her disappear through the gate
into Harvard Yard.
And a second later,
when I turn to walk away,
I glance down the street—
and see Sophie!
I Freeze in My Tracks
She’s just standing there
looking at me,
less than
half a block away,
just standing there
still as a statue,
in the middle of
the sidewalk,
looking right
at me!
Whoa…
How long has she been there?
How much
did she see?
Was she watching
when Tessa
was kissing me?
Suddenly, There’s a Tornado in My Chest
Whirling around
in the spot where my heart
used to be.
All I want to do is run away,
run as far away from here
as I can get.
But I force my legs
to carry me toward Sophie
instead.
A second later,
when we’re standing
face to face,
and I’m looking into
those heartbreakingly blue
eyes of hers,
I know,
beyond a shadow of a doubt,
that Sophie
saw everything.
Her Hand Flashes Through the Air So Fast
That I don’t even see it coming.
The hot sting of it,
the sharp shock of it against my cheek,
stuns me.
“How could you, Robin?
How could you do that?
I mean, I know we had a fight, but…”
My throat’s so tight I can barely speak.