But for some reason, someone did try to talk to me. That someone was Toby, though I can’t imagine why he wanted anything to do with a pathetic lump of blue satin social deathliness such as myself.
“I used to live in a town in Colorado that celebrated ‘Mike the Headless Chicken Day’ in honor of a chicken named Mike who lived for four years after his head was cut off,” Toby said as he got up from across the table and slid into the chair next to me.
“That’s not true,” I said, noticing a cute dimple on his left cheek.
“It is. I was thinking that maybe you knew about Mike and that’s why you weren’t eating your chicken.”
“No. I didn’t know about Mike. I still don’t even believe there is a Mike,” I protested.
“Fine, don’t believe me,” Toby said as he leaned in to whisper, “but that right there could be Mike’s great-great-great-grandson.”
Just then, the band started playing “The Chicken Dance.” It was the funniest coincidence.
Toby laughed that great laugh and said, “Aw, c’mon, we’ve got to dance to this.”
But I was way too bummed to dance.
“I guess I’m not really in the mood,” I told him.
“Still waiting for that same someone?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Well, then, do you want to take a walk?”
My eyes went straight to CJ. He was already up on the dance floor, and the sight of him doing the Chicken Dance with the flower girl and the ring bearer was almost too cute to bear.
“Sure,” I said.
“Cool,” he said. “Let’s go get our coats.”
So Toby and I walked around the grounds of the wedding chapel. He told me his dad was best friends with one of CJ’s dads in college. Then he asked me which dad I knew.
“Neither, really,” I told him. “I’m friends with CJ.”
“Well, CJ sure has good taste in friends,” he said.
I didn’t know what to say back. So I didn’t say anything for a while. And neither did Toby. He just looked at me. For what felt like a really long time. And I just looked back. Not saying anything or moving until he finally leaned in as if he was going to kiss me.
And I thought, Raisin, you came to this wedding to get kissed, and now you’re going to get kissed. If nothing else, it’ll be great practice and you can get rid of that nasty reputation. So I stood very still and waited. And the closer Toby got, the more things I noticed about him. How nice and tall he was. How much his eyes twinkled. How much his curls corkscrewed.
How much he wasn’t CJ . . .
And then I accidentally put my hand over my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “It’s nothing against you. It’s just that I’m considering joining a nunnery and I want to keep my record clean.”
“I hear that,” Toby said. “I want to join JV next year, so I know what it’s like.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but I was glad he didn’t make a big deal out of anything.
Then he picked a twig up off the ground and tossed it like it was a boomerang. “We should go inside. I bet they’re cutting the cake.”
As Toby and I walked toward the chapel, I felt a little bit sad. I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t like him. Especially since I did. Just not in a kissing kind of way.
“We should hurry,” I told him. “We don’t want them to run out of the pieces that have the tiny silver ball things.”
“I love those,” Toby said. “They look like something you’re not supposed to eat, even though you are.”
That Toby. He really understood me. If only I didn’t love CJ so much, I might have been able to love Toby. Or at least kiss him. Maybe this means I’m a freak, but I think I really need to like a guy in that way in order to kiss him. It can’t be for practice, or as part of a game, or done for the sake of losing my reputation. It has to be because the boy gives me the feeling of Pop Rocks exploding in my stomach.
Even if it means a lifetime of waiting.
By the time Toby and I got back to the wedding, CJ was gone. Someone told Toby he left with his dads in a limousine. I thought he’d at least say goodbye before he left. But no . . .
Being at the wedding without CJ there made me realize even more how much I wasn’t his date. And what an idiot I’ve been all this time, thinking that I could be.
Comments:
Logged in 11:27 PM, EST
PiaBallerina: Raisy, you’re not an idiot. There’s nothing wrong with liking someone.
And also, it’s so cool that Toby liked you. I mean, aren’t you flattered?
Logged in at 11:28 PM, EST kweenclaudia: CRAZY RODRIGUEZ—have you lost your mind? a gorgeous hottie with blond curly hair tries to kiss you and you cover your mouth? i’m beginning to think you want to be a nun.
Monday, December 13
7:03 AM, EST
Kittylicious,
I know what you mean, Claud. Toby was quite the package. But my heart belongs to another. Off to another lonely day at school.
1:05 PM, EST
You’ll never ever ever ever guess why I’m writing to you even though I’m late for earth science class. Never ever ever. Ever.
Give up?
Okay.
I’ll tell you.
Here goes.
You’re not going to believe it.
Okay.
Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
I decided to take my lunch in the bathroom stall. I guess I wasn’t in the mood to socialize with . . . all the happy people. I had just settled in with my grilled cheese sandwich and chocolate milk when there was a knock on my door.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s Lynn. Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I said.
And then she came in and apologized for not telling me about Jeremy sooner.
“I thought I was sparing your feelings, but I realize now that what I did was mean,” she said. She also told me how much she misses hanging out with me but that she had to keep her distance so that she wouldn’t slip and tell me.
“Besides,” she added. “Fippy’s getting on my nerves. She always acts like nothing’s ever a big deal to her, even though some things are a big deal.”
Then she invited me to come get pizza with her and Jeremy after school.
“Sure,” I said, and I was really glad that she apologized and that we’d be friends again the way we used to be. But secretly a big part of me didn’t want to have to go and see Lynn and Jeremy all happy and googly-eyed over each other while I was going to have to be all unhappy and regular-eyed over myself.
“That’ll be totally sublime,” Lynn said, hugging me.
She left, and I went back to my grilled cheese sandwich. But that’s not the big reason I’m writing to you right now. Because then, just as I was thinking about how grilled cheese is really the same thing as pizza but without the sauce, there was another knock at the door. I figured it was Lynn coming back to tell me something. Like maybe she also had the grilled cheese for lunch so we should probably go for hoagies instead.
But you know what?
It wasn’t Lynn.
But you know who it was?
Bet you can’t guess.
Never ever in a million years.
Okay. I’ll give you a hint.
It was . . .
Drumroll, please . . .
It was the adorable, the gorgeous, the smart, the cinnamon-scented, the violin-in-a-bag-carrying, the weird-but-just-the-right-amount-of-weird-so-that-it’s-cute-and-not-creepy . . .
The one, the only . . .
Mr. CJ Mullen.
Eyelashes and all.
When I saw him standing in front of me, I was so embarrassed to be caught eating in the bathroom stall, I flushed my grilled cheese sandwich down the toilet.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” he said back, shouting over the flushing noise. Then we both stared at the floor and pretended not to be waiting for the noise to stop.
“I looked for you after dinner last night,” he said once it did. “But I couldn’t find you.”
My heart started pounding. Was I in big trouble? Had he come here to yell at me for going off with another boy? And at his fathers’ commitment ceremony, of all places?
“Um, yeah, well, that . . . um . . . old lady—I mean nice, um . . . elderly woman sitting next to me at the wedding?”
“Mrs. Wilson?” he offered.
“Yes, that’s the one. . . . Well, she needed help finding her . . . um . . . teeth,” I said.
“Really? Because I thought you were out taking a walk with Toby. At least that’s what someone at your table told me,” CJ said, looking kind of sad.
I knew I shouldn’t have taken that walk with Toby, I thought. I felt terrible.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked him, crossing my fingers, toes, and boobs that he wasn’t. I mean, I didn’t actually cross my boobs, I just imagined that I did. And I guess it helped because CJ answered by saying, “No, I just wish that I could have taken a walk with you.”
Suddenly his face looked different. It was as if up until then, all his features had always looked a little blurry and now someone had adjusted the focus dial and he was coming in more clearly.
“How’d you find me?”
“I looked for you in the stairwell, and when you weren’t there, I figured you’d be here.”
I’m not really sure how he knew that I came here. After all, he’s not exactly up on who’s doing what. I took it as a good sign. But before I let myself get too excited, I had to find out the answer to the most important question of all.
“Do you like Dylan?” I asked, crossing my boobs again and any other body part I could think of.
“Dylan Mulroney? No,” he said.
He said no. I couldn’t believe it! I was so happy! CJ didn’t like Dylan!!!
But that’s not the big reason I’m writing to you right now either.
“Well, you were laughing so hard together her first day at the ’zine, I thought maybe you guys were really into each other.”
“Oh, I remember,” he began. “We were just laughing because I asked her if the rumors about her being an underwear model were true, and she told me that they weren’t. And then she gave it some more thought and said, ‘But now I understand why Jeremy gets all nervous every time he comes over and talks to me about my assignment.’ And it was true. Every time he came by to say something to her, he’d have a coughing fit or start scratching himself all over like he was breaking out in hives, and one time he came by and he had beads of sweat forming over his top lip and on his forehead, and it was just made us laugh to think that it was Dylan’s ‘modeling career’ that was making him sweat.”
I laughed and then I told him that I used to think he was quiet but that lately I’m realizing he’s not.
“Really? You think I’m quiet? Maybe I’m just quiet around you,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some folded-up pieces of paper.
I never thought of it that way. Maybe he is just quiet around me. I guess what threw me is that he’s quiet in class too. I know that’s the rule; I just didn’t think it was one people actually paid attention to.
Then he handed me the pieces of paper. “These are for you.”
I unfolded them. One was that picture he drew of the superhero girl and the other one was the picture of the grasshopper girl.
I was so touched. I couldn’t believe he had put all that work into a present for me. And all this time I’d worried they were for Dylan.
“They’re supposed to be you,” he added.
Now, you guys are probably thinking it’s a little strange to give someone a drawing of their face on a superhero or grasshopper’s body. But the point is that I like CJ’s strangeiousity. I like that he’s always working on bizarre cartoons and that he takes that stuff so seriously. It’s what makes him so adorably irresistible.
And besides, the drawings were really beautiful. Especially the one of the grasshopper. Her face was so pretty. And her eyelashes were really long. CJ must think I have really long lashes. Just like I think of him. I wonder if part of liking someone is thinking that they have long lashes? I should ask Samantha.
But none of this is the big reason why I’m writing to you right now. The big reason I’m writing to you right now is to tell you that after CJ gave me those pictures I, Raisin Ramona Rodriguezriguezriguezstan, was so excited and overcome with feelings of love, I did something I never imagined I could ever do in a million zillion years. I kissed CJ. As in, made the first move, kissed him. As in, I threw my arms around his neck, pulled his head toward mine, stopped for one quick second to check out his expression and make sure he wasn’t gagging or praying to his higher power to get me to stop, and kissed him.
My lips. On his lips. A genuine, USDA grade-A kiss. Well, four, to be exact. Three short ones and one kind of long one. And he kissed me back. We were kissing each other.
Making out, if you will.
And it was even better than I ever imagined. It felt really nice. Like I could have stayed there all day except that I had class and so did he, and any minute some girl was bound to come in and need to use the bathroom to pee or talk about how much weight she’s gained or tampons or something.
It was so strange. When I replay the scene in my mind, which I’ve already done sixty-three times, I can hardly believe I had the courage to do it. Because, as you may recall, I’m the one who made the first move. But it happened so naturally, it was almost as if there was no decision involved. But then suddenly there I was, in the middle of the kiss anyway. As if I’d done it a hundred times before with an actual human and not just a pillow or a stuffed animal.
Okay. There’s something I need to tell you. The truth is, I wasn’t quite as professional at it as I’m making it sound. For instance, there was definitely tooth scraping. And some lack of sureness about how much to move my head or whether it was sophisticated or embarrassing to run my hands through his hair. Or whether or not we should switch sides at any point.
Okay. Fine. You got me. There’s one more thing.
At one point I made a noise. A snorting noise. Like an oink.
That’s right. You heard me. I OINKED. LIKE A PIG. It just came out of me from nowhere.
WELL, ACTUALLY IT WAS MORE OF A MINI-OINK. LIKE FROM A LITTLE PIGLET. THERE. I’M DISGUSTING. EVEN WHEN I’M LIVING OUT MY DREAM. YOU HAPPY? MAY I CONTINUE?
Okay, so I oinked, and our teeth scraped, and there were questions about where to put my nose, and then of course there was the location, which was in front of a toilet, but still, it was a kiss. MY FIRST KISS. And it was still really fun. And I can’t wait to do it again.
But next time, I hope the part afterward goes differently. Because the part afterward was not so fun. That was when I felt a little embarrassed, and I could tell CJ did too. Although it’s unclear whether the embarrassment came from the oink or not. But when we pulled apart, we both just giggled a little and couldn’t quite look at each other. Then CJ wiped his mouth and said, “I better go to my locker before class starts.”
But before he left my stall, I asked him if he wanted to go for pizza with Jeremy and Lynn after school, and he said that he did, so I’m taking that as a good sign.
I hope we can look each other in the eye by then, because one day we’re going to have to get married and it’d be hard to be someone’s wife without looking at them at least once in a while. Anyway, by then I should have the oinking situation under control.
Oh, whatever-the point is, I KISSED CJ MULLEN! I, RAISIN RAISINISTA McNOLONGER McMISSPRISS NOR McMEESUS PREES McRODRIGUEZRIGUEZSTAN AM NOT A FREAKISH LONER WHO’S NEVER BEEN KISSED. I AM NOW OFFICIALLY A GIRL WHO HAS KISSED A BOY SHE LIKES A LOT AND POSSIBLY LOVES, SO NO ONE CAN CALL ME MISS PRISS ANY LONGER, AND THEY CAN ADD MY NAME TO THE BEEN-KISSED LIST.
SO THERE!
Okay. Time to calm down and go to class.
But there’s one more thing. Which is probably just as importan
t as the above mentioned if not more. In addition to CJ kissing me, one cannot overstress the fact that this means that he likes me.
CJ MULLEN LIKES RAISIN RODRIGUEZ AFTER ALL.
Okay. Now I can go to class.
Bye-bye, Kitties!
PS—Remind me to call the nunnery and cancel my reservation.
PPS—Call me crazy, but CJ’s tongue did taste a little vinegary. Which actually works out well because when we go for pizza, I’m planning to order a salad.
PPPS—I wonder what my tongue tastes like?
Raisin Rodriguez & the Big-Time Smooch Page 12