Tell Me Again How a Crush Should Feel

by Sara Farizan

  “What do you think of this one?” Saskia asks the three salesladies as she nudges me into the hallway of the fitting area. Oh my God. Talk about mortifying. Lisa looks at the ceiling, probably embarrassed for me.

  The salesladies scrutinize my body as I worry about what they must be thinking. My face is already scorching when a little girl walking past the dressing rooms yells out, “Mommy! Her boobs are huge!” The mommy hushes the girl up, and the saleslady suggests with a fake European accent that I should try on a bigger size. Saskia asks for a few more bras and pulls me into the dressing room.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” she says, holding my face in her hands. “I’m jealous of your boobs! They just scream sexy.” She kisses me on the cheek and my mood lightens immediately.

  I find one that works in the next batch. At last the humiliation is over. I thank Saskia for the bra she bought me. I fold my arms over my chest for the rest of our walk on Newbury Street, during which Saskia buys herself a clutch at a price that I’d rather not think about. Lisa manipulates mannequin arms into lewd positions whenever she has the chance.

  “Don’t you just love shopping?” Saskia asks, swaying her shopping bag from side to side.

  “It’s cool,” I say, and Lisa gives me a look. She definitely remembers how much I hated clothes shopping with my mom when we were younger.

  “How about we go somewhere else?” Lisa suggests. “Want to check out the aquarium?” I will have to remember to thank her later.

  I haven’t been to the New England Aquarium in years, but it’s just as I remembered it. The inside of the building is dark, with the blue illuminations of the tank brightening the faces of the little kids who are plastered against the glass, trying to spot fish their friends haven’t seen yet.

  “It smells like fish in here,” Saskia says, gazing past her reflection at a tiger shark.

  “What else would it smell like? It’s an aquarium,” I manage while making blowfish faces through the glass.

  “Still, you’d think they’d be able to do something about that. Maybe a few air fresheners.” She crinkles her nose at the smell, and then nods her head toward Lisa, who is over at the railing, looking down at the penguins. “She’s an odd one, isn’t she?” Saskia asks.

  “No, she’s just going through some stuff right now.”

  “Who isn’t? We’re supposed to. It’s that coming-of-age thing, right? I’m going to have a cigarette. Let me know if the fish do anything other than swim around in circles.” I watch Saskia walk away and make my way over to Lisa.

  “Are you a penguin fan?” Lisa asks as I stand next to her.

  “Of course,” I admit like a nerd. “They don’t restrict themselves to gender roles, you know.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Well, the female emperor penguin lays the egg, but the male has to sit on it, waiting for it to hatch while the female goes off to forage for food. Very progressive.”

  “Huh. I just like them because they run like you do,” she says with a straight face. The penguins waddle off the rocks and into the water. When the last one glides under the surface, Lisa turns to face me. “Thanks for today, Lei. I really couldn’t deal with school.”

  It’s good hearing Lisa talk about her feelings. I press my luck. I don’t know why, maybe it’s just curiosity or a guilty feeling that I haven’t been a better friend, even if it was she who pushed me away. “How are you, Lisa? Really?”

  Lisa gnaws on her lower lip. “I feel like I can’t handle anything. But I can’t . . . I don’t want to talk about it. Not today.”

  I try to remember what I used to say to make her feel better when we were kids, but it feels like forever ago. “Don’t thank me for today. It was Saskia’s idea. I should be thanking you. If it were up to her we’d be shopping all day.”

  Lisa stops worrying her lip and is back to her stoic self. “Yeah, that was annoying,” she says. “What’s her deal?”

  That’s weird. I thought they were getting along.

  “You don’t like shopping? Won’t Ashley be upset if she finds you’ve changed your tune?”

  “I don’t really hang out with Ashley’s group much outside of school. They’re kind of mean,” she admits, pulling on her bangs.

  “You think?”

  She flashes me a smile. “Okay, okay. I guess I just never noticed it before. Or maybe I did, but then I figured out that being mean is kind of exhausting.”

  “Ashley must be really tired then.”

  “Oh, she’ll be fine. She snorts Adderall, so she has loads of energy.”

  “Jeez.”

  “Yeah. She thinks it’s cool or whatever, but she ends up getting blue boogers. Still, she says when she’s on it she and her boyfriends mate like rabbits.” The penguins are back on the rocks, waddling around, bumping into one another and jabbering and yelling over one another. “They look like high school students,” Lisa says.

  “Want to go see the sea turtle?” I ask. “It just swims around and around, but I love it.”

  Lisa smiles and we walk up the ramp to the top of the tank.

  We drive back to school and some new pop star’s song full of sexual innuendo comes on the radio.

  “Ahh! I love this song!” Saskia screams. Lisa flicks her cigarette out the window and they both start to sing. I’m in the backseat this time, where I can I sit back and watch them fling their hair and mock the sexy dance moves from the video. They’re both pretty and free, and I’m almost in awe of them.

  As we pull into the school parking lot, I notice my mom’s car parked crookedly in a handicapped spot up front. Busted.

  Mom doesn’t speak to me on the way home. She drives slowly, and I don’t dare look at her because then I’ll see that her jaw is still clenched and that the vein in her forehead looks like the Amazon River. When the school called her to see if I had left early, she panicked and called my cell phone thirteen times. Of course, I’d left my cell phone in my locker and didn’t think to get it when Saskia whisked me away. Unable to find me, my mother called the police, but they informed her it wasn’t a missing person’s case since I’d only been gone for three hours. They told her I was probably cutting class, which she didn’t like one bit. Back at school she tracked down as many kids and teachers as she could think of who might know something, including Mr. Carr, Tess, Greg, Ms. Taylor, and Mr. Harris, who informed her that I missed an important test. Always helping out the kids, Mr. Harris.

  When we got back to school, everyone breathed with relief—and then they freaked out. Mr. Carr told Lisa her mom was deeply upset but couldn’t be there since she had a pilates class. Saskia’s parents were in Prague or somewhere. I don’t even think they were contacted. No wonder Saskia didn’t care about ditching school—she’s the only one who couldn’t get in trouble with her parents. And you know what? This new bra is too tight.

  “I just don’t know what you’re thinking anymore,” Mom says as I stare at the floor mat of her Mercedes. Its crevices are filled with sand and dirt, and I feel like I should be there with it. “You used to tell me everything. And now you don’t tell me anything. It’s like you . . . I don’t know. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what’s upset you.”

  “Sorry.” And I was. And this time it was definitely my fault.

  When Dad got home, Mom surprised me by not mentioning anything about my skipping school to him. I don’t know why not. Maybe she didn’t want him to freak out, or maybe she was just doing me a favor, but it seems like a hopeful sign. I’m not ready to make any sudden confessions to her, but it’s good to know that there are things about me my mother doesn’t necessarily feel she has to share with my dad.

  Sixteen

  Mr. Harris didn’t let me make up the test. He is now giving me a D as my midsemester grade. Ms. Taylor’s been out of school for two days. She hardly ever uses her sick days, so I assume it has to do with Mr. Harris, and is possibly contributing to his bad mood. I haven’t told my parents about the grade, since I’m already w
alking on eggshells around my mom, and my dad’s always griping about Armstead tuition. I can’t let him think that I’m wasting his money. Now I have to get a B on the next few tests, or I’m toast. But I really doubt it’s going to happen.

  The play is taking up a lot of time. It’s been fun so far, when I’m not mooning over Saskia, and I’m learning a lot about the technical aspects of production from Taryn and her crew. Despite their icy exteriors they’ve been pretty welcoming, doing things like offering to lend me graphic novels they think I’d like. We spend a lot of time in the booth overlooking the stage, and it’s surprisingly fun.

  “Check this out,” Taryn says one afternoon as she plays Pink Floyd’s “Money” on the auditorium speakers. She’s set up lighting cues to create a psychedelic show onstage in time with the music.

  “That’s awesome!” I say, and I really truly mean it. When the spectacle is over, Taryn drinks from her flask and I work on the lighting cues for the play. Christina sleeps on the couch until it’s time to leave, as usual. Simone is working on knitting a purse, but I don’t quite see it yet. She’s in charge of costumes and props, so she has a lot downtime. She’s even teaching me to crochet.

  The most surprising thing about the production is how good an actress Tess is. When she’s in character, she commits herself fully to it. It’s just the way she is with her schoolwork. Sometimes when she’s not onstage, she helps me with my science homework. And by that I mean she does it for me while I pretend that I understand what she’s doing.

  Tomas is still Tomas, relentlessly flirting with a senior who’s playing Orsino, but I don’t think the senior understands that Tomas is flirting with him. In any case it’s kept Tomas out of my hair. Saskia has been brilliant, of course, and sometimes I think she must be bored with being so perfect at everything. She and I have been hanging out a lot lately. We walk to class and rehearsal together with our arms joined at the elbow and have inside jokes, though sometimes they are at our classmates’ expense. I imagine this is how Europeans behave, very touchy-feely without it really meaning anything. Still, I like to pretend it’s also what having a girlfriend might be like. Not that my imagination always stops there.

  “Christina! Wake up!” Taryn shouts while building a platform.

  Christina’s head rises, and she looks disoriented. “Where’d you put the hacksaw? I can’t find it anywhere.” Christina points to a shelf up high and lays her head back down, going to sleep.

  “Worst tech crew ever,” Taryn mutters.

  “She’s just nervous about the show coming up so soon,” Simone says, coils of yarn piled at her feet. “I was thinking we could get some dry ice for a fog effect.”

  “Yeah, let’s add another stupid errand to the ever-growing list,” Taryn says while she measures wood with a ruler.

  “You know, Taryn, you’ve been such a bitch since the PETA petition,” Simone snaps back. “So we didn’t get enough signatures. We will next time.”

  They argue some more. I leave them to it while I watch the stage. Saskia circles Tess with a kind of predatory look. Is that part of her character?

  “Stop drooling over her,” Taryn says, coming over to me. I glare at her, but mostly I’m embarrassed.

  “It’s all right, Leila,” Simone says, smiling at me as she joins us. “We don’t judge here.” I’m totally blushing now and glance at the floor.

  “Am I that obvious?” I say meekly. Christina has miraculously woken up and appeared like the vampire she pretends to be. She pats my shoulder.

  “We’ve all seen this play forty times. Yet you always pay attention to Saskia’s scenes. Every. Time. It’s kind of hard not to notice,” Christina says.

  “No, I mean, do I look . . . do I look gay?” They all laugh at me. “Well, you guys have the look down,” I mumble. They all stare at one another. Then Taryn shakes her head, Simone looks at me like I am speaking a new language for the first time, and Christina yawns.

  “Sorry, did I—I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Wow. Um, you’ve got a lot to learn,” says Taryn, sawing into some wood.

  “We’re not gay,” Simone says. I look at the three of them, my gaze landing on Taryn’s shaved head.

  “Wait? What?” I say, flabbergasted. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “We’re not gay,” Taryn repeats, matter-of-factly. “My boyfriend goes to public school, Simone just has the hobbies of her grandma, and Christina’s into the undead, so that kind of limits her dating options.” I start to sweat.

  “Oh my God.” I cover my face with my hands. It was one thing when I thought I was confiding to “my people,” but I’m left with the scary realization that I’m alone—and exposed.

  “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no reason to be ashamed!” Simone says, coming to my side. “I’ve got two moms and I love them both. I know tons of gay people and they have well-adjusted lives. Well, except for Uncle Bill. He has those larceny charges . . . But otherwise there’s nothing to worry about.”

  My hands are still over my face. I’m not ready to look at any of them yet.

  “We won’t tell anyone. Right, girls?” says Simone.

  “Christ, since when did tech crew turn into the Oprah show?” says Taryn. “Look, Leila, high school sucks for everybody. We know what that’s like, so we’re not going to say anything.” I uncover my face and look at the group.

  “There are a lot of gay vampires,” Christina says with a shrug. I suppose that’s her idea of comforting.

  “Thanks. I just haven’t figured it all out yet. Maybe it’s just a phase,” I say timidly.

  “Sure,” Taryn says, rolling her eyes. “A phase.”

  “Can we talk about something else, please?” I beseech them.

  “Well, whatever you’re going through, it’s cool with us,” Christina says. The girls nod and we go back to work. I like keeping busy and focusing on the task at hand. I feel like I have people I can talk to, and that’s more than I ever thought I would get out of stage-managing.

  “Do you know this music?” Saskia asks as I sit on her sofa, listening to the odd singing with a smooth background. She invited me over to her house after rehearsal. Her parents are out to dinner with friends. I had to call and beg my mom after the whole skipping school fiasco, but she acquiesced when I told her Tess would be there and we would study. Tess isn’t here, of course. Yes, I lied. “It’s the Ethiopiques. Afro jazz from a while ago. Who knows what they’re saying, but it sounds great, doesn’t it?”

  I nod and keep sipping the wine Saskia has poured for us. We’re sitting a few feet apart.

  “I’m so nervous for the play,” Saskia goes on. “Everyone seems fairly well-prepared. It’s just that something about Tess playing Cesario puts me off.”

  “Oh?” I say, sipping my wine, trying to look sophisticated, though I can feel that my cheeks are as red as a bag of Twizzlers.

  “I don’t know what it is. She just has no personality and tries so hard. I’d encourage her to take private acting lessons, but she probably couldn’t afford it.” It’s quiet for a moment while I pretend she didn’t say what she did.

  “I think you would have made a great Cesario, Leila. Too bad Tess didn’t get sick or anything,” Saskia says.

  “I think she’s doing a pretty good job.”

  “But it’s so hard to pretend to fall in love with her. If you were in the part I’d have no trouble at all.”

  I look at Saskia wide-eyed and she radiates. She’s probably just being friendly.

  “More wine?” she asks. I nod and she pours me another glass.

  “Is Tomas coming?” I ask, kind of hoping he is so I can stop feeling so nervous.

  “No. I thought we’d just have a girls’ night this time.”

  What is happening?

  “You’ve been such a good friend lately. I want to hear about what’s going on in your life,” she says.

  “I’m, um . . . I’m failing science.”

  “You’ll be fine. I’m sure we c
an find test answers for you. Or we can blackmail Mr. Harris. Or seduce him. He is cute. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult.”

  I stare at her in disbelief.

  “Oh, I’m kidding. You should see your face. You take everything so literally.” Saskia turns on the TV and flips through the channels. “Do you want to order an adult movie?”

  No, really, what is happening? “No, I’m good, thanks,” I say before sipping some more wine.

  “You don’t like sex?”

  I laugh nervously. She’s so blunt. I’m not sure if that’s a European thing or the wine. “You know Greg likes you. I can tell,” she says.

  “We’re just friends,” I say, staring at the carpet.

  “He just doesn’t do it for you. I understand.” Saskia turns off the TV. “It’s so boring up here. Do you want food or anything?”

  “I’m not very hungry.”

  “So you’re definitely not interested in Greg?” she asks.

  “No. I’m not.”

  Saskia leans in closer as she puts her glass on the table. Her breath smells of wine. “Then who are you interested in?” she asks calmly, scanning my face. I stare at her in shock, clutching my glass. Is she suggesting what I think she is? She smiles and says, “Well, go on and kiss me. I don’t mind.”

  I let out a nervous squeak and Saskia laughs. She takes the glass from my hand and puts it on the table. “We’ll keep it between us, yeah?” she says, and I nod, dazed. She leans in and kisses me, tentatively at first, and I tremble a little before I respond. I close my eyes and try to lose myself in the kiss. Saskia makes me forget almost everything as she claims my mouth.

  Wow.

  I back away and she smiles sweetly. “Should we try again?” I don’t really know how to answer her, so I nod once more and she takes the lead again, slowing her pace. Just as I am hoping we can do this for hours, she breaks away. Laughing, she holds her hand up for a high five. “We are awesome!”

  Um. Okay.

  “Was I your first girl kiss?” she asks slyly.

  I almost want to lie to her so she doesn’t feel disappointed. “No. There was someone over the summer,” I say. I can’t stop staring at her lips.