Undiscovered Gyrl: The novel that inspired the movie ASK ME ANYTHING (Vintage Contemporaries)

by Allison Burnett

  Friday night was too wonderful for words. I cannot stop thinking about Dan. So guess what I’ve decided? When I tell you, you’re going to suggest I return to the psych ward for a big cup of pills. I want Dan to be my boyfriend. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it’s caaa-razy but it’s not like we have to get married. We can just make each other happy for a while, and then when it’s time for me to go to college or for him to get married, we’ll break up and stay friends. And if we can’t do it, if it’s too painful to break up then maybe we’re one of those one in a million couples where age doesn’t matter. Like Charlie Chaplin and his wife Una who were way farther apart in age than us but got married anyway and had many children. They were still together years later when he died at the age of like 99. She was still pretty gorgeous and he looked like a miniature mummy in a wheelchair. I know this because before we watched City Lights Dan told me all about their love affair and showed me pictures of them online. It was my first silent movie and I really loved what I saw of it. Dan shouldn’t have told me about the Chaplins if he didn’t want me to get ideas!

  To make it easier for Dan I will be very grown up and cool about certain things. For example, I won’t force him to introduce me to his friends, family and co-workers. Obviously if he wants to that would be flattering and wonderful but if he doesn’t, that’s fine. Another thing is I won’t get needy if he’s busy writing his P.H.D. and we don’t speak for a few days. I will live my life and trust that he loves me. Third, I won’t turn into a French psychotic before my period. I might cry for no reason and eat a two-pound bag of candy corn but I won’t call him a “selfish pig” and throw lamps at his head like Martine does. And the best part of all? I will let him have sex with my hot young body whenever he wants to. How great is that? How lucky is he?

  Tuesday, December 11, 2007

  Margaret and I took Cole to a particular kind of baby class today called Rye. Paul is really into it. Rye believes in respecting babies and letting them do whatever they want just so long as they don’t hurt themselves or others. In class we laid Cole down on this big soft mat and then we were instructed to sit against the wall and observe as Cole interacted with all the other babies. Margaret was only allowed to butt in if Cole really needed her emotionally. He didn’t. Not much happened really. Only 2 of the 8 babies were even strong enough to turn over. The rest just laid there looking at the ceiling. They cried a lot. Sometimes they reached over for the only toys they were given—cloth napkins and the lids of plastic food containers. I wanted to cry too. I could not stop thinking about Dan. When will he call? It better be soon. Is he afraid of me now because I gave him a blow job? So many guys do this. Things get really hot sexually and instead of being psyched about it they start to disappear. It’s like they think you automatically want to marry them.

  Many of you are really pissed at me for not answering your emails. Why should I? All you do is rag on me, call me names and correct my spelling, punctuation and grammar. You think I’m going to defend myself to you? Neeeevvvver!

  Only Airesinmo said something positive. She thinks my relationship with Dan is thrilling and romantic. She finds guys under 25 as dreary as I do. She wishes she had a brilliant sexy older man like Dan to love and learn from. Hang in there, gyrl. You’ll find one. Just wear short skirts and don’t be afraid to make the first move. Older men are weak! Love you tons.

  In four days I am no longer jailbait. My mom offered to buy me an iPod with fancy speakers. I told her I would prefer cold hard cash.

  The best part of my job is every day at 3:00 when Paul comes home from work. He calls it “Happy Hour” not only because he has a G&T to relax but because we are all so happy to see him. We hang out and laugh and talk and he kisses the baby every ten seconds. What a marvelous father. It’s like a big celebration!

  Wednesday, December 12, 2007

  My obsession interfered with my job performance today. I was carrying Cole in his basket while daydreaming about Dan. All of the sudden the basket shifted and I came really close to dropping Cole onto the tile floor. Scared the shit out of me! I stood there for like 10 seconds, clutching the basket, while my heart pounded. Can you imagine if I had cracked their baby’s skull open on the kitchen floor? People forget how scary it is to be a nanny.

  I needed to do something to stop being obsessed, so after work I drove straight over to Jade’s. When I walked into her mostly pink bedroom, she was downloading all the new music she missed while she was away.

  “Yo, get off the computer, dude. I need your help.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “In your dreams, dyke.”

  This is how we speak to each other. Some people find it disturbing, others think it is hilarious. My idea was for Jade to call Dan for me. If I called and Martine answered, that would be way too risky. Two hang-ups in one week? I don’t think so. Sure I could say “Oops, wrong number” but then she would hear a young female voice and that might make her suspect something. Jade was the perfect solution because if Martine answered, Jade could say “Oops, wrong number” in Tagalog, the native language of the Philippines. It sounds like a combination of Japanese and throwing up. Jade isn’t fluent but she definitely knows enough to fake a wrong number. Martine would be way too bewildered by the foreign tongue to get suspicious.

  Unfortunately to ask Jade to do this I would have to tell her that I was still seeing Dan and that it had gotten way more serious. As you know, I love Jade to death but don’t trust her at all. Why is it short girls always have such big mouths? But since she was so perfect for the job, I decided it was worth the risk. But first I made her swear on her vaginal health that she would never tell a single living soul what I was about to reveal. She got very excited. Nothing a blabbermouth loves more than a new secret not to keep!

  I told her way more than I planned. Everything in fact. Here’s the funny part about her reaction—Jade was not judgmental at all about me cheating on Rory or even that Dan was cheating on Martine. The only thing that freaked her out was the age difference. She said that when an older guy goes out with a teenage girl, he’s either a letch who’s just using her body as a sperm bank or he’s emotionally retarded. I told her that for a slut she was being ridiculously neo-conservative. I told her Dan was not emotionally retarded at all, that he is a mature and complicated man. And as for the sex, if anyone was using anyone, it was me using him. He’d gone down on me about 12 times and I’d only gone down on him once.

  I used Jade’s landline for the call. That way if Martine pressed *69, all she’d get was Jade’s mom’s outgoing voice message which is very middle-aged. While the call was ringing I whispered to the ceiling “Please god let him answer. Please god let him answer. Please god let him answer.”

  Because there’s no such thing as god, Martine answered on the third ring. Why does he let her answer his cell phone?! Is he really that whipped?!

  I quickly handed off the phone and Jade yelled out something in Tagalog. I imagined Martine’s snobby French face staring at the phone and saying “What the fuck?”

  After Jade hung up, I laughed so hard I almost peed.

  “What did you say to her?!” I asked.

  “ ‘Where is that clock that we ate yesterday at the bathroom in the church?’ ”

  I friggin’ howled!

  Wrong numbers often come in twos so I knew I had a gift certificate for one more call. We killed a minute watching Project Runway on TiVo. Or as Jade calls it, Project Bunway, because it’s mostly freaked-out homos trying to sew on buttons before the time runs out. Jade said that pretty soon all we’re going to have is reality TV because the writers who write real TV shows are on strike. I had no idea. I am an ignorant teenager who lives only for love. I’ve got to read yahoonews more often. I dialed Dan’s number again and handed Jade the telephone. This time he answered. Smooth as silk, Jade said “Please hold for Miss Katherine.”

  I grabbed the phone and spoke superfast.

  “Don’t be mad! I just need to talk to you, okay? Call me back on my c
ell as soon as you can. If Martine asks you who it was, just say some chick spewed a foreign language at you. Bye!”

  Hang up.

  Mission accomplished.

  High five!

  Jade and I then ate a veggie pizza and a spinach salad and watched some more panicking homos. I pretended to be in a good mood but inside I was praying for the phone to ring. Every few minutes Jade would ask another question about Dan. She was fascinated by our relationship. It was like she had just found out that I boned a dolphin or something. “Does he kiss the same? Does his skin feel different? Does he smell funny? Do you ever run out of stuff to talk about? Do his balls sag?”

  “Stop being such a close-minded American,” I said, getting annoyed. “In Europe, girls date older guys all the time.”

  I told her about Charlie Chaplin and Una. Jade had never heard of either one of them. I told her that maybe if she dated older men she would know who Charlie Chaplin was and wouldn’t be such a judgmental whore. She laughed at this. One of Jade’s best qualities is her ability to laugh at her own many faults.

  Driving home through the frosty night with my ass toasting in the leather seat, I started to get scared. What if Dan was furious at me for calling? What if he never spoke to me again? My heart started racing and I was sure I was going to crash. Then my phone rang. When I saw it was Dan, I screeched over to the side of the road. I picked up and before he could yell at me I said “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

  “Relax. She ran out for cigarettes. She’ll be back in five minutes. What’s up?”

  He didn’t sound mad at all.

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Yeah, I figured. What?”

  “Nothing bad, I promise. But I need to say it in person.” I made my voice all soft and sexy. “When can I come over?”

  His breathing stopped.

  I whispered like I was excited but scared too. “What I did to you last time? I want to do it again. Other stuff too. Everything.”

  He didn’t talk but I could hear him start to breathe again. Slow, heavy and full of passionate desire. He was remembering what happened last time. How amazing it was.

  Finally he answered. “Friday at 6:30.”

  “Perfect.”

  I hung up fast.

  Ha!

  I am so going to burn in hell!

  Friday is going to be epic. Please send me your votes. Should I ask him to dump his girlfriend and go out with me before or after we make love? If I ask him before, he might say yes because he wants to make love to me so bad. If I ask him afterwards, he might say yes because he wants more of what he just got. Is this confusing? Tough.

  Must sleep now. I have a baby to take care of.

  Phone ringing. Somebody loves me. Stand by.

  LATER: 1:28 a.m.

  Rory and I just had the hugest fight. He recorded a new song inspired by our relationship called “Blue Balls in Blue Jeans” and he wanted my honest opinion. He sang it for me over the phone. I told him I thought the tune was extremely catchy and cute but that the lyrics were juvenile. Since he wrote the words and not the music he went completely insane. I cannot love Rory because I cannot respect him. He doesn’t take life seriously. If he did he wouldn’t write silly songs like that. Older men rule.

  Thursday, December 13, 2007

  I got basically no sleep last night but it didn’t matter. I was so happy about my upcoming date with Dan that I couldn’t stop smiling all day. My heart felt big and bursting with love. I wanted to hug the whole world. Even ugly old ladies and dirty old parking meters. I especially loved the Spooners. For no reason Margaret gave me a Mexican silver ring she never wears and a gorgeous old Hermes scarf. Paul made a shitload of money today on some foreign deal so he brought home champagne and Belgian chocolates and we all indulged. He started fake-dancing Margaret around the room. It was the most in love I have ever seen them and it made me smile till it hurt. For the first time it felt like Christmas was just around the corner.

  Friday, December 14, 2007

  Monday we’re going to the pediatrician to get vaccinations for Cole. Some parents don’t like to give them because they think they cause autism. Paul decided that he’d rather give Cole his shots and have some small chance of giving him autism than have him die of polio or whooping cough that could have been prevented.

  Cole has big intelligent blue eyes. Margaret calls them “vigilant.” Which means alert and watchful. And his lips are pouty and full, the kind movie stars pay big money to get once they are at the age when nobody wants to kiss them anymore. Ha!

  While Cole was napping I went to yahoonews to learn more about world events. I read about a teenage girl in Canada I think, or maybe England, who’s in critical condition in the hospital after being choked by her own father for refusing to wear a Muslim scarf around her head. And I thought my dad sucked! Even if my father was strong enough to kill me with his bare hands, he would never do it. Unless I stole his last beer. As much as I want to know more about the world, it takes a lot of courage to read the news. I complained about it to Paul and he said not to worry my pretty head over it, because the world has always been shit. I felt better.

  As soon as I got home, I started to get depressed. Maybe I’m scared at what might happen with Dan tonight. Or maybe because tomorrow is my birthday and I will be an official adult. One good thing—at least my period is over. Must get into the shower and do some strategic shaving.

  Welcome to my reality show.

  Sunday, December 16, 2007

  I turned 18 yesterday. Adult life has started and all I want to do is die. My worst birthday ever. Let me put it this way. It was so bad I had an urge to go to church this morning, okay? I haven’t been since I was 12. I am an atheist but this weekend made me feel dirty and ugly. At least my mom’s church is clean and beautiful. My date with Dan started exactly like the last one. We kissed at the door and walked with our mouths connected all the way to the couch. He stripped my clothes off and everything was exactly the same except that after he was finished going down on me, instead of me just lying there thinking about what to do next, I pulled him up to my mouth, kissed him deeply, unbuttoned his jeans, grabbed his dick and put him inside me. He was so shocked he pulled out a little but I pushed him back in.

  I’ve only slept with six guys and two of them were once and one of them was three times. Rory is by far the person I’ve had the most sex with and it never lasts for very long. The sex with Dan was so much better than anything I have ever experienced, I can’t even tell you. First of all, it lasted 43 minutes. (The clock was right near me.) And second, it felt absolutely awesome. I don’t know if it’s because he moves better or because he’s got a bigger dick or what but it felt totally different. It just kept building and building until there was nothing in the whole world but the two of us and what we were doing. When he was about to cum and moving really fast, it felt so good I screamed and he had to put his hand over my mouth so the neighbors wouldn’t hear. He kept pumping but he forgot to remove his hand. I had to pull it away so I could breathe. A pretty unromantic way to end the best sex of your life but in a way it was a sign that everything was about to get really bad.

  We laid there kissing and breathing until I felt some dribbling and excused myself. I walked slowly to the bathroom because I didn’t want to leak on the floor and because I wanted him to get a good look at my ass. I read once in one of my mom’s Cosmo magazines that a good trick is to hold an open hand across your ass like a fan and sort of skip all the way to the john, so the guy won’t see your cellulite. Since I don’t have any I walked slowly with no hand.

  When I came out of the bathroom Dan had his jeans back on and looked really freaked out.

  “I wish that hadn’t happened,” he said.

  “You mean no condom? Don’t worry. My period ended this morning.”

  “No, I meant—”

  “Oh, you mean jail? Don’t worry. I turn eighteen in a few hours. I’m basically legal.”
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  “Sit down, Katie.”

  I hated the serious look on his face. It was the kind your mom gives you when she got a call from the principal’s office about the beer they found in your locker. It was not the look you want from a person five minutes after you make love for the first time.

  “Here’s the thing. I like you, Katie. A lot but—”

  I knew what he was about to say. My heart stopped. But I pretended to be really calm.

  “Listen, before you dump me, let me just say something, okay?”

  He was so shocked by my mature attitude that he let me talk. I told him I really loved him and that I thought he should dump Martine and make me his girlfriend. But in a healthy way that would work with our age difference. He wouldn’t have to introduce me to a single person. Our relationship could be totally secret. Just the two of us in his house, enjoying sex and food and classic films. And then as soon as he met a non-psychotic woman he wanted to marry and have kids with or I was ready to start college, we could break up maturely and stay friends forever.

  I could tell he was impressed by my offer and how confidently and clearly I explained it. I honestly think he might have said yes but then I made a big mistake. I mentioned, sort of half joking, the Chaplins and how if it turned out we were like them, one of those one in a million couples that have a big age difference but really belong together, that would be cool too. We could get married and have many kids. His whole face changed. He pretended to think some more but I knew he had made up his mind.

  “Katie, I’m so tempted. You have no idea. But it just … It’s impossible.”

  “Why?”