by Jillian Dodd
EXACTLY NONE!
So while I was trying on jogging shorts, she was trying on boys. Well not literally, but she did get herself a date and well, supposedly one for me too, with this guy's friend. Who I might add, is clearly not capable of getting his own dates. I mean, he is not very fortunate in the looks department. So aside from the fact that I already have a boyfriend, I'm sure I will be coming down with something highly contagious this Friday.
Then it hits me.
Renner.
Allison Renner. Phillip's girlfriend, right?
Is he calling me from her house? No, it's past ten, his school night curfew.
As if he needs one. I swear he's the only person I know, and quite possibly the only teen in the entire universe, who prides himself on being home before curfew.
I look across the street and see his bedroom light's on.
I answer with a polite, "Hello."
"JJ this is Allie," Allison says, using the name her friends call her.
No shit.
"Hey Allison, what's up?" I answer, trying to sound pleasant, but purposely NOT using the name her friends call her.
Cuz this is weird. I mean she and I aren't good friends. Honestly, we're not friends at all. In fact, I really don't care for her much. She's very annoying and talks a mile a minute. It's like she hardly needs to breathe. The boys at school make crass remarks about what else that would make her good at. Boys are sick. Anyway, she acts like she owns Phillip, and they've only been dating for like three weeks. I don't think she'll last much longer though.
I've never spoken to her on the phone before, so naturally I get the feeling I'm being set up. You know, like when your friends call you on a three-way call, but pretend that only one of them is there and she tries to get you to say bad stuff about the other friend, who is secretly listening, and then they both get mad at you?
"Um JJ I have a quick question for you it's about Phillip well I'm sure you guessed that and I mean I know you guys are neighbors and good friends and well I really need you to tell me something because I really like Phillip and I don't want to be stupid and not believe him but I also don't want to be stupid and be like cheated on."
God, she talks fast!
"Allison, Phillip is not cheating on you!" He wouldn't! He's not that kind of guy. I mean granted, he'll be dumping her soon, but it will be because her clinginess is driving him mad. As in she is always complaining he spends too much time with me. But that's beside the point. "What would ever make you think that?"
"Well I just called him and he answered the phone in this sweet sexy voice and he never talks to me like that," she pouts.
"What did he say?" This should be good. Did he call her another girl's name?
"He said, Hey Princess," she says, imitating his velvety smooth voice.
Oh shit.
Double shit.
Surely he didn't. He would never tell.
I'd kill him!
I glance over to his house and see his bedroom light flickering off and on, on and off.
I'm assuming that is some form of SOS.
I hear the IM tone from my computer, and I'm sure it's a message from him. I've got to stall this girl. "Um, Allison, did you ask him who this Princess is?" I ask as I run over to my computer.
"Yeah I did."
"Well, what'd he tell you?"
There is an IM from Receiver (Phillip). It's just one half of a word. ASH.
I send him back an IM from Cess. Everyone thinks it stands for Excess, which I tend to do everything to, but Phillip set up my instant messenger account, so it's really short for Princess. I write: U OWE ME, USE CALLER ID NXT TIME STUPID!
"Um JJ you know who it is don't you so could you please tell me first so I know if he's lying to me?"
"Sure Allison," I say bored. "Phillip's sister, Ashley's nickname is Princess," I lie.
Totally lie.
Her Royal Queeness, possibly.
Her Royal Highness, Ruler of the World, perhaps, but NEVER a lowly princess.
"Oh thank goodness," she gushes.
She's all happy now and rambles on, "I mean I wanted to believe him but I just didn't know what to think and I mean his voice sounded all sweet and gentle and I guess it would make sense that he'd talk to his sister that way."
Not.
They fight like crazy.
He really loves her, but he says that it's his job to annoy her. And he does.
But I'm not really listening to Allison ramble. I'm lost in thought. I never realized it before, but Phillip does have a special voice he uses when he speaks just to me. It's one of the reasons I love talking to him before I go to sleep. It's sort of soothing.
I don't think I would've ever qualified it as sexy.
Pul-eezzee. That's just silly.
But when I talk to him, it's kind of like I do a brain dump, tell him about my day, the good, the bad and the ugly, and then he tells me what I should do. Of course, I usually don't do it, but talking to him is kind of like getting a mental massage.
Allison says, "Thanks JJ see you at school."
I hang up and call Phillip, while I type ITS ME PICK UP on the IM.
He answers, "Hey Princess."
Okay, so it is kind of dreamy.
"You owe me," I tell him.
"No, you owe me. I could've just told her the truth."
"Yeah well then I would've had to kick your ass, and I'm afraid that might be damaging to our friendship and your reputation."
He laughs at me.
Quite possibly because my chances of kicking his buff ass are very slim indeed. But since I could do it when we were young, I cling to idea that I still could.
He finds this humorous and told me recently that he would love nothing more than for me to try. Of course then Danny piped in with the kind of nasty comment only a boy can make, so I let it slide.
"Enough of your girl problems. Mark called me tonight and wants to hang out Saturday."
Mark was a hot coworker of mine at my short-lived attempt at waitressing. He's 19, in college, and totally hot. Did I mention that? Thick wavy blonde hair, big muscles, great body, hot car. He's what Lisa would call a Trifecta.
Hot guy. Hot bod. Hot car. Trifecta, baby.
Unfortunately, he only seems to see me as his cute little work friend.
Yeah, it blows.
But I'm totally infatuated with the guy. I can't help it.
Whenever he calls, I drop everything and change all my plans in order to go hang out with him.
Last time, I even ditched my new boyfriend, Dillon. And Danny gave me all sorts of shit about that. He was like Dillon is my friend, you can't just be doing that. But honestly, I didn't think it was that big of a deal because Mark and I always just sort of hung out together. And Dillon told me as long as it's just a friend thing, he was cool with it.
Unfortunately, it HAS been just a friend thing.
Until last time, that is.
And this time, he asked me to go out to dinner somewhere kinda nice, which made it sound like an actual date. So I am really excited!
"What should I do, Phillip? I'm kinda supposed to go to a movie with Dillon."
"Kind of?"
"Okay, we have a date," I reply curtly.
"So what'd ya tell Mark?"
"Um, that I'd let him know," I lie.
"You know, I don't know why you always jump every time that guy calls, and then when he doesn't call, you get all depressed. What's that line he always says?"
I sigh. "When you least expect it, expect it."
"Yeah, what the hell does that mean anyway?"
We've been over this many times before, but I reply, "It means just when I'm at the end of my rope waiting to hear from him, and close to believing I'll never hear from him again, that's when he calls."
And he does. He's got it down to an exact science.
"I'm just saying, that isn't exactly the best way to treat a girl you like."
"That's the problem, Phillip, we're jus
t friends, so it's not like I can complain about it."
"I thought you kissed him last time you went out," Phillip says, referring to my just friends status.
Uh, yeah. And I've been reliving it every night and during all my classes for the past few weeks. He was such a good kisser. And it was perfect, exactly how I had imagined it. I had thought, this is it. He wants me, we'll be together and it will be amazing.
Then.
One week.
No call.
I told myself that if he didn't call in two more days, I would never speak to him again.
Then.
Two weeks.
Still no call.
By now, I'd given up hope of ever hearing from him again and convinced myself that it was just a dream. I also decided if he did ever call that I might speak to him, but only to make sure he was still alive because I am a concerned citizen. But after that, I was going to give that boy a piece of my mind!
Finally after two weeks and three days, he called and asked me to dinner. I wanted to scream at him, you freaking jerk, but I caved and said that sounds great.
I'm so dumb.
Hey wait a minute, I know Phillip never forgets anything, but I don't recall telling him this juicy piece of information. I haven't even told Lisa. I was keeping it to myself.
Hoarding it.
Plus, I seriously didn't want Danny to find out. Or Dillion, for that matter.
"Uh," I stammer, unsure how to answer.
"No, you didn't tell me he kissed you," he says, reading my mind.
I swear he can sometimes.
"I saw him all over you when he dropped you off."
"Phillip, were you spying on me?"
"Actually, no," he says in a believable tone. "I was seeing if your light was on."
Sure.
"Philllippp, what should I do?"
"What you should do is tell him you're busy, for once. But what you're gonna do is break up with Dillon and go out with him. Right?"
Okay, so the boy has me figured out. And he's right. That is what I'll do, but how can I help it?
Hot guy. Hot bod. Hot car. Trifecta. Triple Threat.
"So what are you gonna tell him?"
"Well, I already kinda said yes," I say, telling the truth this time.
"Told you. You're hopeless! Night, Princess."
"Night, Phillip."
I go to bed, thinking of Mark and willing myself to have a juicy dream about him. But instead, I have some warped one where Phillip rescues me from Mark's car because Mark has turned into some evil werewolf / vampire creature.
Bizarre.
Oh and my date on Saturday with Mark didn't go so well. I suppose my dream should have been an indication of what was to come. It seemed Mark decided, unbeknownst to me, that he wanted to be more than just friends.
A LOT MORE!
He took me parking before dinner, I said NO WAY, and he took me straight home. Aren't guys supposed to at least buy you dinner BEFORE they expect that? I was so upset, and of course, Danny is mad at me for breaking up with Dillon, and Dillon is still mad at me for breaking up with him.
Maybe I'll just give up on boys.
Okay, maybe not.
I mean they're just so cute!
Today is the perfect day for laying out in the sun. It's almost 80 degrees, and there is a soft cool breeze. I don't plan on wasting a day like today! So I'm in my room putting on my new swimsuit. I'm really excited about this suit. It's my first real bikini. I've always worn a 2-piece, but they were a more athletic cut. This is one of those wonderful, skimpy, stringy things. I've never bought a stringy bikini because I've always looked stupid in them. Let's face it, you've got to have a figure to wear a suit like this. I've never had much of a figure, unless you consider the shape of a board an attractive figure. Yes, I've heard all the sayings.
"Flat as a pancake."
"String bean."
"Toothpick."
"Tall drink of water."
"Bean Pole."
That's one I don't really get. I mean I understand the bean part, and the pole part, but what is a bean pole anyway? You'd think beings I'm from a place where beans grow in fields and that I have actually walked beans, that I would know, but I don't. Speaking of walking beans, I truly believe Congress needs to step in and enact some child endangerment legislation against that job.
Have you ever walked beans?
It's the most disgusting thing on earth. I lasted one day, well half a day, really. I just couldn't see mucking around in the mud and the sun with all the bugs, chopping down weeds with a scythe.
Yes, a scythe.
Do you know what a scythe is? It's like a huge, sharp, curved pirate sword.
And they hand them out to kids!
I am very fortunate that I didn't chop off one of my legs, while cutting down those stubborn weeds. That or the guy's leg in the row next to me. And I have to tell you, when you think weeds, you think maybe a few here and a few there, like at home in your landscaping. But NO, there are about a gazillion weeds in each row. And these weeds aren't just little things either, but often times are corn stalks. And it takes a lot of work to chop just one of them down. And I swear, each bean row must be, at a minimum, several hundred miles long.
At least that's what it felt like.
After about four hours of walking beans, I have to admit, I was ready to use the scythe on myself, just to make the misery stop. But then I figured I'd forever be remembered as the girl who killed herself in a bean field.
Not exactly the legacy I am hoping for!
So I quit. I'll take babysitting some cute kids as a summer job any day. You take the kids to the pool, flirt with the lifeguards and get a wicked tan. You go have ice cream, take the kids home and put them down for a nap. Then you sit in the air conditioning and watch Oprah and your soaps. A much nicer working environment, I think.
But back to the bean pole thing.
I looked it up on the Internet and guess what? There is such a thing as a beanpole. It's all one word. It is a thin pole used to support bean vines. Just what you would think, I guess, but I can tell you that I never saw one of them during my bean walking experience!
Where was I?
Oh, yeah, my bikini body.
It seems a strange thing happened this year. I went from a nonexistent A cup to a nice full B. Granted, Katie and Lisa have had boobs like this since about sixth grade - okay, so my body is a little slow - but I have to say, they were worth the wait! For once in my life, I actually fill out a bikini top on my own (as in, no padding) and it looks pretty good, I think. I almost feel sexy in it. Mom was with me when I found it. At first I thought it might be a little too skimpy, but she liked it on me.
She said, "If you've got it, flaunt it because once you have kids, your body will never be the same."
This from a woman who is 5'9" and a perfect size 6. She goes and works out three times a week with a group of friends. Although from the sound of it, I suspect there is more gossiping and coffee-drinking going on than actual exercising. However, she must be doing something right because she still wears a bikini herself and looks good in it. When we go on vacation to the beach, it's really kind of embarrassing because the young guys pay more attention to her than they do me.
Maybe there is hope for me.
Of course, I'd prefer not to have to wait twenty years before I get a boy to notice me in a swimsuit.
In all seriousness, I know there are large, really important issues in the world. World peace, terrorism, nuclear arms and global warming. But honestly, finding the perfect swimsuit has got to be at the very tip top of most women's list, regardless of race, religion, political, or sexual orientation. So in finding this perfect bikini, I really feel I've done my part to help conquer this great world issue.
I'm thinking about the bikini's big inaugural event. It will first be viewed by the public, and specifically Jake, who I've been dating off and on for about three months now, at a big river outing some of us are h
aving next weekend. Today my plan is to hide in the back yard and fill in my tan lines, so it really looks great.
I am prepared to lay in the sun all afternoon if that's what it takes.
I am so proud of my strong convictions!
I have the whole place to myself. Mom is at a volunteer meeting and Dad is at work. Jake would be pissed to learn that I'm home alone and not begging him to come over, you know, so we can be alone, but I'm not in the mood to deal with that today. It's too perfect of a day. So I put the stringy thing on and appraise myself in the mirror.
Not bad.
The bikini is of the string variety, like I said. It's supposed to look like the American flag. One side of the triangular top is blue with white stars, the other side is red with white stripes. The bottoms are also red and white stripes and all the stringys are made from the star fabric. It is really very cute.
I head out to the backyard, move my chaise into the sun and cover myself with a mixture of baby oil and iodine. I know, I know, no sun block is a bad thing. But my Mom used it when she was young, and she doesn't have cancer or anything. Plus, it works great! I lie down on my stomach first. Next to me is a table with an ice-cold diet Coke and a trashy novel to read if I so desire. Playing is my current favorite mix CD.
Aw. Perfection.
I close my eyes and start to daydream. I'm envisioning Jake's possible reactions to the tiny bikini. They have ranged, so far, from him wrapping me in a towel because he is so desperately jealous and doesn't want anyone else to see it, to attacking me with kisses out on a raft, to his fainting in amazement of my body, to.......
"Hey, Jay," a male voice says.
I open one eye and see Danny's head peeking through the gate.
"Come play catch with me and Mac."
Oh come on. Can't you see I am VERY busy!
"Aw, Danny, I can't. I've got oil all over me."
"Please Jay, I've got football camp coming up, and I haven't thrown a pass in two weeks."
"What about Kelly Majesky?" I reply smartly, referring to his latest in a long string of female conquests.
Really, if Danny was a girl, he would totally be considered a slut.
"Football passes, Jay," he says smoothly, rolling those baby blue eyes at me. "Come on."
"I can't, Danny. I really need to work on my tan today. I'm all set up here."
"When we're done, I'll take you and Phillip to the Shack for ice cream," he bribes in a singsong voice. "My treat. Come on, you can get a tan playing football. You play in a swimsuit all the time." He pauses. "Of course with all that oil on, you'll be harder to tackle. Maybe you'll give Phillip a run for his money. For once."