Being Mary Bennet Blows

by Mary Strand

  “Have you already drawn the design you talked about?”

  “Design?”

  I rolled my eyes. I’d worried for so long about a guy wanting me for my brains, but I should’ve focused on finding a guy who also had brains. Brains that didn’t melt the minute he saw me in a short skirt.

  “You do want to work on the roller coaster, right?”

  As he gave me a vague nod, I realized I wasn’t totally sure I wanted to, but I had to keep my options open in case the kissing didn’t work out. How was kissing supposed to work? Two pairs of lips touch, but what then? I’d watched another movie with Jane and Liz over the weekend, and I still didn’t have a clue. It looked like tongues got tangled early and often, and the thought made me vaguely sick to my stomach.

  I’m not even talking about where the guys’ hands went. Like, quickly. I glanced down the front of myself, seeing the scoop-necked black top and the short black skirt and the long expanse of thighs. Did finally ending my sweet-seventeen status include giving Josh a peek at my white undies?

  Or worse?

  We were almost to his house, but the utter silence was killing me. “My birthday’s tomorrow.”

  I slapped a hand over my mouth. I said that?

  Josh grinned, looking more like his old skateboarder-and-Physics-guy self and less like the lust-crazed zombie I’d seen all day. “What do you want for your birthday?”

  A kiss? Like, just one tiny kiss?

  I didn’t say that out loud, thank God, but something in Josh’s eyes made me think he knew. Great. Mary Bennet and her white undies were now officially in Great Danger.

  I shrugged, as if I weren’t terrified out of my mind. “I don’t know. My two older sisters took me shopping to look for ideas, but Jane said it’d be a surprise.”

  Josh flicked a glance at my lips. “You like surprises?”

  Of the terrifying variety? No. “I guess it depends.”

  We pulled up in front of his house. Just like last week, no other cars were in sight, but his mom’s car could be in the garage. In fact, she might be spying out a window right now at her son and the Girl Who Wanted to Be Kissed.

  Josh reached across me to push open the passenger door, obviously not caring whether his mom was spying on him or whether his forearm brushed oh-so-softly against my boobs, making my own breath catch.

  He glanced at me, eyebrows raised in a question he didn’t ask, then opened his own door and got out. I had no choice, short of hijacking his Camaro or wimping out and walking home, so I held my breath and followed him up the sidewalk to his house, through the front door to the stairs, and up the stairs to his room. We didn’t stop until we got inside his room and he shut the door. Softly. And stared at me.

  And slowly started to unzip his jeans.

  I’m kidding! As if!

  But he kept looking at me, and at my lips, as he walked over to his desk and dumped his backpack on it, then held out his hand for my backpack and set it next to his own. Without opening either backpack or any books or notebooks.

  I shivered slightly as he walked toward me.

  “So your birthday is tomorrow?” He glanced down the length of me, making me feel a little dizzy. “Is that skirt for your birthday? If so, you should have birthdays more often.”

  “I— I don’t—”

  No wonder he didn’t want me for my brains anymore. I didn’t appear to have any brains.

  He took a step closer, but miraculously I stayed on my feet, even though I felt the edge of the bed against the backs of my knees. If he was just teasing me and was actually about to whip out his Physics book or some stupid drawing of a roller coaster, I might have to kill him.

  He fingered the bottom edge of my shirt. “I didn’t have a chance to buy you anything.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t know why I told you it was my birthday. And it’s tomorrow anyway.” I heard myself babbling but couldn’t stop. I also knew at that point that I couldn’t stop Josh, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to.

  “So . . . I should get you something tomorrow?”

  “Um, no need.” If he got any closer, I’d stop breathing. In fact, it was possible I already had.

  “Will you be eighteen? Or are you some kind of child prodigy or something?”

  His hand was touching my arm, brushing against it lightly, making me shiver. And then his hand moved to my waist.

  “Eighteen.”

  The front of his jeans brushed against my skirt, and I officially stopped breathing.

  He leaned even closer, his mouth toward my ear. “I suppose you wanna work on the roller coaster.”

  What roller coaster? “Not necessarily?”

  His lips touched my ear. “Good. I don’t really want to, either. I haven’t wanted to all day.” He reached down and touched the side of my skirt. “Not since I saw you in this.”

  His other hand touched my skirt, too, both of his hands now at my hips, and he pulled me closer to him. Before I could say “roller coaster,” he kissed me, sweetly, on the lips. And then not so sweetly.

  And then I landed on the bed.

  I didn’t pass out this time, though. Josh landed on top of me and kept on kissing me, and it was pretty clear that skateboarding wasn’t his only talent.

  Wow.

  Two hours and several hundred kisses later, Josh dropped me off in front of my house and, before I even had a chance to blink, Liz met me at the front door.

  I wiped my hand over my mouth, trying to erase any evidence of my crimes, but it reminded me of Josh’s lips on mine and his hands on a few other parts of me.

  Liz grinned. “If I were you, I’d scoot upstairs before Mom sees you and goes after Josh. With a gun.”

  “Liz, I—”

  “Babe, I can tell. And don’t worry about the bet. I just wanted you to take Josh for a spin.”

  I felt myself turning bright red but took her advice and ran upstairs to my room, my backpack slapping rhythmically against my right hip. I slammed the door to my room and collapsed against it. Safe. But only for maybe twenty seconds.

  The soft rap on my door had to be Jane. The force shoving my door open despite the full weight of my body against it had to be Liz.

  Jane peeked inside first. “Okay if we come in?”

  I looked at Liz, right behind her. “Do I have any choice?”

  “No.” Liz laughed as they both slid past me, Jane to the end of my bed and Liz to her favorite spot on the floor. “But we wanted to seem polite.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “I am polite. But Liz told me to get my butt in here, and I always do as I’m told.”

  Liz snorted.

  “So?” Jane patted the bed next to her, and I gave in and joined her there, even though I’d probably spent enough time on someone’s bed for one day. “Spill.”

  “Um, Liz was right.”

  “I told you I’m not making you pay up.” Liz stretched out on the floor, one hand propping her head up. “But it doesn’t mean we don’t get all the details.”

  “Just like you give me details of your dates?”

  Utter silence.

  Jane smirked at Liz even as her cheeks flushed a bit pink. “She’s got you there.”

  “Oh, I’m perfectly willing to share.” Liz tried to sound breezy, but for once in her life she fell short. “I just thought I’d let you go first.”

  “Fine. No details.”

  All three of us laughed, and I felt something ease in my chest. Part of me wondered, though, what I’d just done.

  Liz gave me a thorough up-and-down, lingering on my lips, which were probably swollen. “Don’t tell me. You never got around to working on the roller coaster.”

  “Liz!” Jane grabbed my Eeyore pillow and tossed it at her.

  Liz simply grabbed Eeyore and tucked it under her head. “You know I’m right.” She sighed loudly. “There go all my plans for Mary’s sweet-eighteen party.”

  Jane and I both leaped off the bed and started pummeling Liz. When Jane caught her b
reath, she glared at Liz. “You know she wants to be called MB.”

  “I—”

  Liz grinned up at Jane, who had her in a headlock. “From the looks of it, she doesn’t care what anyone calls her, as long as Josh keeps kissing her like that.”

  I couldn’t help it; I touched a finger to my lips. What had Josh called me when we’d been kissing? Had he said anything? Or hadn’t I heard a word he said?

  The only thing I did remember, with vivid mortification, was the sound of his mom’s voice. In his room. Telling Josh to quit mauling that poor girl and to take her home.

  Right before she asked if I was Penelope.

  I was lucky I got out of their house with my backpack, and Josh was lucky he got out of there alive.

  That, I remembered. Definitely.

  Liz started laughing, snapping me back to reality. “Tell me I don’t look like that when I get home from seeing Alex.”

  Jane laughed. “Worse. You look much, much worse. But we don’t want to want to hear about you and Alex. I’d like to hear a few details about MB and Josh.”

  I knew even less about sharing details than I’d known about kissing, if that was possible. But I’d resolved the kissing issue—and, like Liz said, before I hit eighteen.

  “God, look at that dreamy smile.” Liz made a big smooching sound with her lips against the back of her hand. “You have to admit she’s got it bad.”

  Jane sniffed. “I don’t have to admit anything, and neither does MB.” She turned and winked at me. “Unless you’d like to.”

  “It’s just that—”

  Liz held up a hand. “Tell me you didn’t take it all the way.”

  The knowledge that I was wearing white undies and didn’t want Josh to see them had more than prevented that, thank you very much, even if I had to keep yanking my skirt down as we rolled around on his bed. I think my virtue would’ve prevented it, too, but I’ll take whatever works.

  “You didn’t . . .”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Definitely didn’t.”

  Liz looked disappointed, for reasons that eluded me, considering that Lydia had taken it all the way to reform school in Montana. But Jane just smiled and nodded, as if she knew without asking that I wouldn’t have done that with Josh.

  The more I thought about it, as I lay in bed that night, I wasn’t quite sure which sister’s reaction I preferred.

  “It’s the birthday girl!”

  “Happy birthday, MB!”

  MB? Who was MB? Oh, right. Me. As my bed started moving, sending me smack into the headboard, I groaned and opened my eyes. Liz and Jane were both propped on my bed, Liz bouncing on the edge of it. Each of them held a wrapped gift.

  I frowned. “What time is it? And aren’t we doing cake and gifts at dinner?” I tamped down a stab of disappointment. Alex and Charlie must be back in town, and Liz and Jane weren’t even planning to share my birthday dinner with me. “I guess you must be busy tonight.”

  “Very busy.” Liz’s eyes twinkled. “With our favorite eighteen-year-old sister.”

  Jane shot me a look of apology. “I told her not to wake you up. I’m sure my present would be perfectly fine to open in front of Mom and Dad, but you know Miss Drama Queen here.”

  “Hey! I saw your present, remember?” Liz shook her head. “Even if Mom doesn’t bat an eyelash, Dad will go catatonic. You know how he is.”

  Jane shrugged. “Watching five daughters go through puberty can’t be easy for a guy. Especially, well, Dad.”

  Except for the yoga, I hadn’t really noticed anything weird about Dad, but I looked from Jane to Liz, who seemed to agree. What else hadn’t I noticed all these years? Josh? Most of the kids in my school? I could add Dad to the list.

  “Anyway.” Liz held out a package wrapped with . . . a few twirled-together condoms? Yikes! “You can decide for yourself about Jane’s gift, but I know for a fact that even Mom would go apoplectic about this one.”

  I held the gift at arm’s length, trying not to look at the multi-colored condoms. I mean, assuming that’s what they were, and not some sort of weird-shaped balloons.

  “Oh, c’mon.” Liz kept bouncing on the edge of my bed, making my head bounce with her. “I just did that as a joke. It’s not going to kill you to touch a condom. You will soon enough.”

  “Liz!” Jane slapped her. “You have no idea what MB will or will not do. A lot of girls wait.”

  Liz just looked at Jane, who started blushing furiously. Apparently, I wasn’t in a room with girls who were waiting. Was I waiting? For now, definitely. With or without timely interruptions by Josh’s mom.

  I started unwrapping Liz’s gift, steering clear of the condoms. I wasn’t even quite sure where to put them. Nowhere in the house was completely safe from Mom’s prying eyes, but I’d think about it later. I ripped off the wrapping paper to find a book. By Erica Jong. I closed my eyes but kept seeing the title: Fear of Flying.

  Liz laughed as she tapped her fingers on the book’s cover. “It’s a classic, and I know you like to read classics.”

  Jane’s lips twitched. “We’re not talking Hermann Hesse.”

  “In a way. They’re both about discovering what makes you tick. About coming into your own.”

  I stared at the cover. “I thought this was more about—”

  Despite my kissing marathon with Josh yesterday, Liz’s gift reminded me that I was still playing in the minor leagues of romance. Erica Jong? Wasn’t this book all about s-e-x?

  “It’s just a book. You don’t have to have sex with a stranger. Although . . .” Liz’s eyebrows danced.

  “Big talker.” Jane shook her head at Liz, then thrust her own gift into my hands. “If Liz did half the things she talks about, she’d be sharing a bunk with Lydia right now.”

  “Hey! I have never fantasized about stripping for a crowd.” Liz tilted her head. “Except maybe . . .”

  “Like I said.” Jane rolled her eyes and nodded at the beautifully wrapped box in my hands. “This might be a little dull compared to Liz’s present, but I hope you like it.”

  My hands trembling, I slowly pulled off the wrapping paper to find a box from Macy’s.

  “Open it.”

  I looked at Jane, her eyes glowing, and realized she wouldn’t buy me something embarrassing. I opened the box. An array of matching panties and bras, in different styles and colors—none of them white—stared up at me. And despite Liz’s teasing when she tried to drag me into Victoria’s Secret last weekend, not a thong in the bunch.

  A teardrop hit the corner of my eye.

  Jane leaned forward and dabbed it away. “You’re not sad, are you? Oh, I’m so sorry! I know it’s a bit personal, but I was sure you’d love these.”

  I swiped my hand across my cheek. “I do like them. I really do.”

  Liz looked a little hurt. “But you don’t like the book I picked out for you. The reader in our family.”

  Jane swatted her. “She didn’t say that.”

  I touched Jane’s arm, stopping her. “I liked the book, too. I just don’t know where to hide it from Mom.”

  Peals of laughter rang out until footsteps thundered up the steps and Mom flung my door open, sending gifts and wrapping paper flying under the covers.

  “What? You’re celebrating your birthday without the rest of us?” She turned and shouted through the open door. “Howard! Cat! Mary is opening presents. Hurry! You’re missing the excitement!”

  Excitement? She had no idea!

  And thank God for that.

  Chapter 16

  Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful lesson: that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable.”

  — Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Five

  I drove to school in my best mood ever, undimmed by the fact that Cat slouched next to me in the passenger seat of the Jeep, pouting about my impromptu little pajama party with Jane and Liz this morning.

  I glanced over at her. “You could
wish me a happy birthday, you know.”

  She hadn’t said anything even when Mom forcibly dragged her into my room this morning. Of course, since Mom kept shrieking for Dad to join us, it was pretty loud in there. True to Liz’s theory, the thought of joining a bunch of teenage girls in their pj’s in a small room sent Dad into hiding until we got dressed and arrived in the kitchen for breakfast. He gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered “happy birthday” and mostly just looked relieved to have escaped the estrogen blitz.

  “You think you’re all that.” Cat’s lower lip stuck out even farther than her folded arms. “Like, you claim you’ve got this sorta boyfriend, and Jane and Liz are hanging all over you. Whatever. When Lydia gets home—”

  I frowned. “You think things are going to improve for you when they finally release Lydia? Or things are going to get worse for me?”

  “Both. You won’t be all that. I mean, you’re not now, either. You just think you are.”

  I was all that? Despite kissing Josh yesterday, despite new clothes and now the new undies, I didn’t feel like it. No one sat with me at lunch, and no one except sometimes Josh talked to me during school. I also couldn’t shake the feeling that Jane and Liz were being nice to me out of boredom or guilt or pity. Take your pick.

  But I wouldn’t admit any of it to Cat.

  “Hey, it’s my birthday. So I got a few gifts.”

  “But everyone’s acting like you’re some big deal. I’m the only one who knows better. I see you at school, Mary. Nobody even sits with you at lunch!”

  “Including you.” I shrugged, feeling a stab of the old self-pity. “Maybe I like sitting by myself. It’s too quiet in the media center to study.”

  “Right.” Cat snorted, and I glanced sideways to see bright blue eye shadow smeared all the way up to her poked and plucked eyebrows. “Like you have to study. Your grades are already good enough for the U of M, not to mention another summer job cleaning up poop at an animal shelter.”

  I blinked at Cat’s harsh tone. How much did she hate me? And it hadn’t been that much poop. “You should talk. McDonald’s isn’t exactly the coolest place to work.”