Making Out

by Megan Stine

  LMSantos: totally. We shouldn’t be tied down to each other.

  MKazanjian: don’t worry, Heather, we’ll find someone for you.

  LMSantos: def. we won’t abandon you, girl.

  MKazanjian: someone better than Derrick what’sisface

  LMSantos: someone you’ll really like

  MKazanjian: so you’ll have an awesome time . . .

  LMSantos: what about Eric Lorber?

  MKazanjian: oooh. good idea.

  LMSantos: we’ll think of something

  MKazanjian: any ideas, Heather girl?

  LMSantos: Heather? you there?

  MKazanjian: Hello??????

  Chapter 7

  Katie Morgan had the most perfectly shaped head on the planet, and Heather couldn’t stop staring at it. Katie was four rows in front of her in French class. Her head rose like a jewel on the long stem of her neck, and sat there on display, like an exhibit in a museum. Even from the back, with her silky blond hair cascading over her shoulders, the shape of her head was simply spectacular.

  I bet she’ll look amazing in her prom dress, Heather thought, imagining something strapless.

  Heather had already bought her own dress for the prom, the green beaded flapper thing she’d tried on a few weeks ago when Lisa Marie was obsessing in BCBG. It wasn’t the typical look other St. Claire’s girls would be wearing, which was why Heather loved it. Who wanted to be one of the Stepford girls, sucking up to other people’s trends? Better to be original. Not so everyone else would follow you, but so they wouldn’t.

  If only she could make Katie follow her somewhere . . . anywhere . . .

  For the past five days, Heather had been desperately trying to read the signs, trying to figure out whether she and Katie were ever going to happen. But it was like reading tea leaves. There were signals, but what did they really mean?

  Sure, Katie was really friendly to her lately. Ever since they’d been paired up as lab partners, she’d been smiling every time she passed Heather in the halls, making small talk in the cafeteria line, asking to borrow Heather’s eyeliner in the restroom.

  But was Katie flirting with her? Or just being nice? Did it mean something when Katie passed by at lunch and fixed the label in Heather’s shirt—something other than Your label is out, you stupid geek?

  And what about all those guys Katie was nice to? Randall Devalier got at least as much face time with Katie as Heather did.

  Now there was an awful thought. What if Katie went to the prom with a guy?

  There was only one thing she knew for sure: Now that Katie was on her radar screen, Heather didn’t want to lie to herself about being gay. Not that she was ready to let anyone else know. That would be way too scary. But at least she wasn’t going to deny her own feelings inside the privacy of her own head.

  The bell finally rang for the end of class. Heather leapt up, hoping to bump into Katie on the way out, but it didn’t happen. Katie was gone pretty fast.

  Marianna caught up with Heather in the hallway. “I saw who you were watching during class,” she announced with a knowing grin.

  Heather froze. Her throat felt tight. This was the moment she’d been trying to avoid. But Marianna was grinning, totally pleased with herself.

  “Who?”

  “Tony.” Marianna beamed. “And I can see why. He’s perfect for you!”

  Tony? It took a second for Heather to even process the name. Tony Vilanch? Why on earth . . . ?

  Oh, right. He was sitting two seats over from Katie.

  “Hmm,” Heather said, trying to bluff a mild interest even though all she could think was, Don’t get carried away, Marianna.

  She headed toward her locker on the way to lunch. Marianna followed.

  “Don’t you think he’s perfect for you?” Marianna sounded hurt that her brainstorm wasn’t being met with jubilation. “I mean, seriously. He’s the ultimate metrosexual. You and he have so much in common.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, you know. Everything,” Marianna said. “He’s on the staff of the lit mag, isn’t he?”

  “So what?”

  Heather stuffed her books in her locker and slammed it.

  “I think he does illustrations,” Marianna said. “And you do layout for the yearbook. You’re both arty.”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “No buts. He’s perfect! He’s just like you: great looking, sensitive . . .”

  Marianna was on a roll, and there was no stopping her.

  “He hangs with the hipster crowd,” Heather said, not really complaining, but trying to prove that he wasn’t just like her.

  “Mostly the filmmaking crowd,” Marianna corrected her. “But he’s not so touch-me-not as the hard-core hipsters are. Also, big point: he’s available.”

  They had reached the cafeteria, and Lisa Marie overheard the last part of the conversation. Naturally she jumped right in. “Who’s available?”

  Marianna rolled her eyes. “Don’t get greedy, I’m fixing Heather up for the prom.”

  “For the prom! Who said anything about the prom?” Heather gasped. She turned, pleading, to Lisa Marie. “She’s trying to hook me up with Tony Vilanch.” It was said in a save-me tone of voice calculated to make Lisa Marie take her side, but it didn’t work. Lisa Marie caught some kind of coded glance from Marianna.

  I know what they’re up to, Heather thought. It was obvious they thought they were being nice, doing her a favor. But she really didn’t want this kind of help.

  “Tony? He’s definitely available,” Lisa Marie said.

  “Oh, right. If you call moping around for a year available,” Heather said. “He’s been quote unquote ‘available’ ever since Jenny Burkowski broke his heart last year.”

  Heather didn’t need to elaborate. Everyone knew the story. Tony and Jenny had been a couple for a full eight months until she dumped him the week before the prom. (Apparently someone forgot to tell her about Rule #1.) Clearly, he was still desperate to get back with her, since he hadn’t hooked up with anyone else.

  So now they wanted Heather to go after him, huh? She didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed. What made her friends think she could score with Tony, anyway? To say nothing—absolutely nothing—about the fact that she didn’t want to.

  “I asked around,” Marianna said, reading Heather’s mind. “He’s going to the prom with a group of guys. So, like I said, he’s available.”

  What could she say? They had her cornered.

  “Unless you have someone else in mind?” Lisa Marie asked.

  Well, as a matter of fact, she did. But she wasn’t about to cough up the truth.

  “No,” she said.

  No one to speak of, anyway.

  Chapter 8

  “Drive slow. I’m still pulling up my tights, and they’re giving me a wedgie,” Marianna said, scooting down low in the front seat of Heather’s Saturn.

  “Well, hurry up. There’s Luke,” Heather said, pulling into the parking lot at the Retro Metro where Marianna was meeting Luke for their matinee date.

  Marianna peered out the front window and saw him leaning against his car, a bright blue ten-year-old Volvo sedan. You could always tell what kind of parents someone had from the cars they bought their kids, Marianna thought.

  Marianna, of course, had no car. Case closed.

  “Can’t you circle or something?” she begged, trying desperately to adjust her panties without being seen.

  “He’s already spotted us,” Heather said. “Just hurry.”

  Quickly Marianna made the necessary adjustments and checked the visor mirror one more time. When Heather had picked her up half an hour ago—using the cover story that they were studying together that afternoon—Marianna had been wearing old jeans and a Washington U T-shirt. But now she had changed in the car into a cute, flirty skirt and a chocolaty brown cropped top that matched her eyes. Her hair was flowing all over the place, but she had to admit it looked pretty good that way.

 
; “Thanks for driving me,” Marianna said before hopping out of the car. “You are the best.”

  “Have fun,” Heather called. “Call me if you want a ride home.”

  Luke was standing across the parking lot, leaning against the car, arms crossed on his chest. He didn’t move to come meet her. He just smiled at her the whole time she walked toward him.

  “You look amazing,” he said when she was close enough to see the warmth in his eyes. “I love watching you walk. I never get to see you from this side.”

  Marianna shook her head slightly. She didn’t get it. “Hmm?”

  “You’re always running, either beside me or ahead of me,” Luke said. “I spend a lot of time eating your dust, you know.”

  She laughed. “Well, pick up your feet, Perchik!” She imitated Coach Robinson’s voice.

  “Not that I mind the rear view,” Luke added with a smile.

  He took her hand and led her toward the movie theater. He’d already bought the tickets so they wouldn’t have to wait on line. Marianna wanted to act cool, but she couldn’t stop grinning. He was being so sweet. She was already having more fun than she’d ever had in her life—and the date had barely started!

  “Are you a butter girl or a plain girl?” Luke asked, steering her toward the concession stand.

  “Right now, I’m a Raisinets girl,” Marianna said. “I need dessert. I just had lunch.”

  “Good idea.” Luke bought them a box of Raisinets and two bottles of water, and then they found seats in the back of the theater.

  Marianna’s heart started beating faster. She’d read in Cosmo Girl! that couples who were planning a heavy make-out session always sat in the last row of movie seats, so that no one would be watching from behind.

  She was hoping Luke would kiss her, but was she ready for a lot more?

  Her pulse quickened at the thought. Yeah, she was!

  Luckily, the place wasn’t too crowded, and there were zero little kids in the audience, so Marianna didn’t feel out of place.

  Luke let her go into the row first, acting the gentleman. She took a seat kind of near the wall. He sat close, leaned his shoulder against hers, and opened the Raisinets.

  Marianna took just one. She didn’t feel like eating anything right now, with Luke so close. How was he going to kiss her if she was feeding her face?

  But he didn’t kiss her. Not right then. The previews came on, and he just confidently wrapped his arm around her shoulder to hold her close. Marianna loved it, sitting there in his arms, wondering what was going to happen next. It was so much sexier this way.

  Then they got caught up in the movie, and she forgot all about kissing him until the scene where King Kong was looking lovingly at Jessica Lange like he wanted her to understand his inner soul or something. Suddenly, she remembered where she was, remembered whose arm was around her shoulder. At the same exact moment, Luke took his free hand, turned Marianna’s face toward him gently, and kissed her. The movie faded away. Marianna never wanted the kiss to end, and it almost didn’t.

  When the movie music made a dramatic crescendo, they both looked at the screen to see what was happening, and went back to watching King Kong raging through the jungle, doing his best impersonation of Marianna’s father. Hah! At least, it made her feel rebellious (in a good way) to think of it like that.

  Before she knew it, the movie was over.

  “You want to take a walk in the park across the street?” Luke asked.

  She nodded. The sky was clear, and the air was cool. Marianna couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to him. For one thing, they had a million things in common. He loved old movies and indoor swimming pools, just like she did. (It made them both think of their childhoods, when they went to so many birthday sleepover parties in hotels, and swam in disgustingly steamy, overchlorinated, indoor pools.) He hated two things that were her biggest pet peeves: mushy French toast and people who littered.

  They both stopped to pick up small bits of trash that were littering the park.

  And of course they both loved cross-country. She could talk to him about running all day, and not get tired of it.

  “So where are you going next year?” Luke asked her.

  “Wash U.” Assuming my father doesn’t decide to completely ruin my life, she thought. “You?”

  “I’ll probably be here at Georgetown. They have a great poli-sci program,” he explained. “It wasn’t my first choice. I was jonesing to go to MIT, but I didn’t get in.”

  Marianna couldn’t stop smiling at this guy. Who else would just flat-out admit that they didn’t get in to their first-choice school? Most people at St. Claire’s were so worried about looking like losers, they wouldn’t even reveal which schools they’d applied to until after the April acceptance letters arrived.

  Luke was just so . . . there was no other word for him. Special.

  He bent down to pick a wildflower, then tucked it behind her ear. “This is for someone who’s usually moving too fast to stop and smell the roses,” he said.

  “I should slow down sometimes,” Marianna said, not even sure what that meant. But it sounded good.

  “How about next weekend?” Luke said. “You want to go out again?”

  “It’ll have to be in the afternoon,” she said.

  “Love in the Afternoon,” Luke said. “That’s my mom’s favorite movie. She cries every time. You ever seen it?”

  Marianna shook her head.

  “We should rent it sometime,” Luke said. “But not next Saturday. I’m more up for whipping your ass at Ping-Pong. You want to come over and see if you can take me?”

  “You’re on, Perchik,” Marianna said eagerly. “But let me warn you: I am killer at Ping-Pong. Be prepared to die.”

  Luke laughed, covering his eyes and shaking his head. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you can whip me at two sports.”

  Marianna giggled to herself. The truth was, she was terrible at Ping-Pong. She could barely return the ball. But it was just too much fun, teasing Luke and making him think otherwise for a whole week.

  “We’ll see,” she said, her eyes dancing. “We’ll just see.”

  It took Heather twenty minutes to get to the theater to pick Marianna up, so by the time they were driving home it was almost dinnertime. Marianna was worried. She didn’t want her dad grilling her about why she was gone so long.

  On the other hand, she never wanted to get out of the car, because then she’d have to stop talking about Luke.

  “He’s so amazing!” she gushed to Heather. “I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

  “That’s cool,” Heather said.

  Marianna just sat there, grinning. She’d been smiling so much, her face almost hurt. “It was so romantic when he kissed me,” she told Heather. “It was at the perfect moment. I couldn’t help wondering if he’d planned it, you know? Right when King Kong was feeling all romantic about Jessica Lange. He’s a great kisser, too.”

  “Who is—King Kong?”

  “Ha-ha. But seriously, I’ve never kissed anyone who had such great lips.”

  “You haven’t kissed anyone since eighth grade!” Heather reminded her.

  “Don’t be so literal,” Marianna complained.

  Okay, it was true. She hadn’t kissed that many guys. Okay, only two. And both of them were in junior high. But so what? This was magical, and she intended to enjoy it. What was up with Heather, anyway? It was like she didn’t seem to get, or really care, how wonderful Luke was.

  Heather was obviously bored with the topic, too, because she changed the subject.

  “So do you want to hear the rumor that’s going around about why Todd broke up with Lisa Marie?” Heather said.

  “What?” Marianna’s eyes opened wide. Heather didn’t usually gossip, so this must be big.

  “I heard from a reliable source that he dumped her so he could ask Delia Apfelbaum to the prom.”

  “You’re kidding!” Delia was a bit of a reach for Todd. “Who told you?” The questio
n came out, out of habit, but Marianna knew it was pointless. Heather was very discreet. Like the perfect Washington diplomat, she never revealed her sources.

  “It’s just what I heard,” Heather said.

  “I wonder if Lisa Marie knows,” Marianna asked.

  “I’m not sure, but anyway, it doesn’t matter. The word is that Delia turned him down.”

  “Duh.”

  Well, this was an interesting development, Marianna thought, wondering how Lisa Marie was going to feel about the news.

  Lisa Marie wasn’t exactly the type to gloat over her ex’s failures.

  But then again, she wasn’t exactly the type not to gloat, either.

  Chapter 9

  “Isn’t that the fourth guy you just agreed to meet at the prom?” Graham asked Lisa Marie as she wiped the counters at Starbucks on Saturday.

  The store had finally gotten quiet after a big rush, and Lisa Marie was practically glowing. Guys from her school had been coming in all day, flirting like crazy, competing for her attention. Hard as it was to believe, Lisa Marie seemed to be the center of the Starbucks universe—and she was loving it.

  Starbucks was raining men!

  But that didn’t mean she was going to start acting like a slut.

  Was Graham right? Had she actually agreed to meet four different guys at the prom?

  “Noooo,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t think so. Wait. Who?”

  “Last week, that guy with the tennis racket,” Graham said, ticking them off on his fingers. “He was the first.”

  “Bradley?” Lisa Marie had already forgotten about him. Yeah, when she thought back, she had to admit that she had said yes when he asked her to hang with him at the prom. “Oh, but he was just . . . I mean . . . he just . . . all I said was yeah, I’d meet him there. I mean, I don’t think he thought . . .”

  To tell the truth, she wasn’t exactly sure what Bradley thought.

  “Um-hm.” Graham eyed her knowingly. “Then those other two came in together. The ones with the obscenely outrageous testosterone levels.”