The Oracle of Dating (16 page)

“It mattered to me. I was really disappointed when you didn’t show. It was the second time I thought something would happen between us, and it didn’t.”

“The second time? When was the first?”

“Speed dating night. I thought, when you invited me, that you might put yourself in the same game as me as a way of, you know, breaking the ice. Obviously that theory went out the window when I realized you weren’t going to be playing.”

“I had no idea. It didn’t even occur to me to put myself in the same game as you.”

“Yeah, well, it was all in my head. But then in class, you were as flirty as ever. And, Kayla, you really do know how to flirt. So I figured you had to be interested, and I thought we might hook up at my show.” He chuckles. “And when you didn’t show up, there was Brooke. Do you want to know what we did when we left?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I think you do. We went to a diner and ate. She’s got a real French fry fetish, that one. Then she caught a cab home and I took the subway. It was no big thing for me. But then she started calling. I figured I’d give her a chance.
So, Kayla, tell me something. The blog you did on lovesickness. What inspired it?”

My jaw drops. “I… A lot of things.” I should never have posted that blog! I should’ve left it in the recycle bin on my desktop.

“Don’t worry. I know the blogs are exaggerated to make a point. I’m not imagining you’re in love with me. Not yet, anyway.”

We walk another block in silence. Once we’re a few houses from mine, I stop again. “Maybe we should say goodbye here. My mom and stepdad could be peeking out the window.”

He grins and puts his arms around me. I sigh with pleasure at the feel of his lips against my cheek. He kisses along the line of my jaw until he finds my lips. I meet his kiss with all the pent-up passion inside me, our tongues touching, our breaths racing.

“I’m totally tempted,” he rasps in my ear, “to find a park somewhere.”

I laugh, still clinging to him, my nails pressing into the fabric of his shirt under his jacket.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He cups my face, brushing strands of hair aside.

I smile and kiss him again. This time the kiss is slower and deeper. Heat surges through me. Our bodies are pressed together so tightly that our chests are rising and falling with the same uneven rhythm.

Our lips pull away, and he’s kissing my cheeks and chin hungrily, and I throw my head back and look up at the stars with a dreamy grin.

I feel him inch back a little, though he hasn’t let go. “Kayla, it’s got to be past midnight… Your parents are going to hate me.”

I press my watch light: 12:19 a.m. Mom and Erland aren’t sticklers about being home at twelve on the dot, but he’s right, I better go in.

We have one last kiss. I can’t think of anything to say, but I realize I don’t have to. After passion like that, saying I had a great time would seem silly.

A
T
1:47
A.M
., I’
M LYING
in bed cursing him. Jared has awakened something in me that won’t be put to sleep. I feel like a runner, pumped and ready, waiting for the starting gun to go off. All I can think about is the pressure of his lips on mine, the tongue that tasted like peppermint gum, the way his strong, hard body pressed up against me, the way his arms locked around me…

There is no doubt about it.

I am in lust.

“I
S HE YOUR BOYFRIEND
or what?” It’s Monday in the caf and my friends are on my case. Now it’s Sharese’s turn to bug me. “
I don’t know
is no kind of answer!”

Which brings me to a question that many people ask the Oracle: at what point do two people who are dating become a couple?

Is it when one person asks the other to date exclusively, and he or she agrees?

Is it just a matter of two people falling into a couple’s routine and no words are necessary?

My friends aren’t the only ones wondering if Jared and I are a couple. I’m wondering, too. We talk on the phone every night; even if he’s at work he calls to check in. And there’s been other boyfriendly behavior. Note-passing in class. Kisses before school, after school and in the hallway between classes. No roses or charms for my bracelet or
anything, but it’s only the first week. I’m not the kind of girl that needs that stuff, anyway.

I prefer words. More than any romantic gift or action, it’s his words that drive me crazy. Jared thinks I’m beautiful. I know that I’m not. But I believe that
he
believes I am.

I kind of know what he means, because I think he’s beautiful, too. He’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and the most adorable, crooked smile. Most of all, I think he’s
hot
. And hot is not just about height and shoulders and all those things that make Declan McCall the talk of the girls’ locker room. Hot is about vibe, about sensuality, about electricity.

And when it comes to electricity, Jared’s a freaking power station! Sometimes we’ll be working in the art room and he’ll give me this smoky look, fully aware of what it’s doing to my hormones. Then I’ll lick my lips and see his eyes go wide.

Anyway. There’s no way I’m going to ask Jared if I’m his girlfriend or not. The Oracle knows that would sound needy. In time, he’ll clarify, and until then, I’ll play it by ear.

“Jared is definitely your boyfriend,” Sharese says. “You don’t smooch in the hall with someone you’re just seeing.”

“Did you say
smooch?
” I have to laugh. “We don’t smooch in the hallway, we just kiss now and then. We’re both not into PDA. That’s so junior high. What about you, Sharese? Are you finally going to do something about Mike P.?”

Sharese looks dejected. “I’m such a loser. Consider Operation Dairy Freez terminated.”

“Why give up now?” Ryan asks. “You’ve been talking about this guy for months!”

“Because I’m living a pipe dream. I don’t even know where that expression comes from—what does a pipe have to do with a dream?”

We all shrug.

“I told you—pass him a note with your name and phone number, then take off,” Ryan says.

“That’s so sixth grade.”

“Would it be easier if someone did it for you?” I ask.

“That’s even worse. That’s
fifth
grade. He’s going to think I’m immature.”

I shake my head. “If he’s interested, he’s not going to care how you give him your number, just that you do.”

“And if he doesn’t contact me?”

“Then it probably means he has a girlfriend,” Ryan answers. “You’ll move on. And you won’t look back and wish you’d done things differently.”

Just like how I felt when Jared got together with Brooke. I’d wished I’d acted earlier. I hope Sharese doesn’t miss her chance. Even if he doesn’t call her, at least she’ll know. But she’s got to decide this herself.

“Give him the note,” Viv says, “unless you’re willing to ask him to his face.”

“I could never ask him to his face!”

“Ah, no big deal. We all know you never meant to make a move.” Ryan is using classic reverse psychology.

Sharese perks up. “That’s not true! I meant to make a move. But my stomach feels sick when I even think about it. I could, literally, throw up.”

“Please don’t,” we say in unison.

“Maybe I’m old-school,” Sharese admits. “Part of me thinks that he would’ve asked me out, or slipped me a note, if he felt the same way.”

“Why, because he’s a guy?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not up to the guy anymore,” Viv says.

I nod. “Women who think like that will get left behind. The proactive ones will find men. Especially considering the male-female ratio in New York City.”

“You sound like the Oracle of Dating,” Ryan says.

Little does he know. “Look, Sharese. Mike P. is not the type of guy to ask you out while he’s serving you ice cream. He’s way too shy for that. Plus, guys don’t tend to premeditate like that. Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

“Absolutely.”

Sharese straightens. “You’re right. I’m going to do it! Sometimes you have to take a chance.”

O
PERATION
D
AIRY
F
REEZ
enters its final phase.

I check my watch—7:35 p.m. “You can go in any time, Sharese. He should be at the cash by now.”

Amy and I are with her for moral support, which she appears to badly need, because she’s asked us about ten times how she looks.

Sharese takes a deep breath. “You’re sure I don’t have anything on my face?”

Amy laughs. “I told you, you look gorgeous!”

“Absolutely Sharesalicious.”

“Thanks, guys. Here goes!”

Sharese gets off the bench, straightens her clothes and heads inside the shop. I look at my watch. This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes; we haven’t seen anyone go inside in the last while, so we know he’s not busy.

“I’m so glad she’s finally doing this,” Amy says. “I’m sick to death of hearing about this guy.”

“I hope it works out. He’d be crazy not to go for her.”

“Oh, he’ll go for her. No guy would pass up a chance like this unless, well, he has a girlfriend. But I peg him for single.”

“How do you know?”

“I can tell. It’s a gift. What can I say?”

Sharese steps out of the door, her eyes full of tears.

We rush up to her. “What happened?”

“He’s…gone.” Her lips barely move.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Amy asks. “He’s not working today?”

“He stopped working there last week. They wouldn’t give me a number where I can reach him. I’ve lost my chance!”

Amy puts an arm around her, guiding her to the bench.
“You didn’t necessarily lose your chance. We’ll probably spot him working somewhere else.”

“Amy’s right,” I say. “You could easily run into him.” But who’s to say he didn’t get a job in Manhattan? Who knows if he even lives in this neighborhood?

Sharese rubs her eyes, smearing her mascara. “I’m such an idiot. I had months to do something but I was too chicken!”

Amy gives her a little nudge. “Aw, c’mon, don’t you believe in fate?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you know that if it’s meant to be, you’ll cross paths again. If you don’t run into him, that means the relationship wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. Some quiet guys are very possessive, you know.”

Sharese looks at her, unsure of whether to be comforted. “You think he would have been abusive?”

“You never know about guys. Sometimes the innocent-looking ones are the worst. I’m just saying. No matter how it works out, it’s for the best.”

Kudos to Amy—she’s damned good at talking B.S.

“Maybe you’re right. I should leave it to fate. My mom always says I should put things in God’s hands.”

I’m not sure we should be bringing God into this, but oh well. I want her to feel better.

I realize that for Sharese, Mike P. will be a love that was never realized. A
what-if
that will always haunt her.

Unless Amy’s right about fate. The jury’s out on that one.

W
HEN
I
GET HOME
, Mom gives me the news. “Tracey called. She’s going out of town this weekend so she won’t be able to meet you for coffee. She’ll be in Connecticut with Scott.”

I scowl. “I should’ve set his hair on fire when I had the chance!”

Mom and Erland exchange an uncomfortable glance.

“You can’t stand him, either, Mom. Admit it.”

“I’m not his biggest fan. But we have to accept her decision. I
am
interested, however, in hearing about your new boyfriend.”

My boyfriend?

Was that the answer all along? Is it when your mom notices that you’re dating someone that he becomes your boyfriend?

“You’re just trying to change the topic so I won’t be upset about Tracey and Scott.”

“I would like to meet this Jared,” the Swede says.

Mom nods. “Me, too. Should we have him over for dinner next week, Erland?”

“Yes, indeed we should.”

Huh? What the hell is going on? “You can’t invite him without asking me!”

I picture an uncomfortable dinner in which Jared is served up a smorgasbord of questions on philosophy, theology and current events, followed by Mom’s favorite board game,
Hallelujah! The exciting new game that combines Bible facts with fun!

No, thank you.

“Having him over for dinner is a bit much. I’ll ask him to come to the door so you can meet him sometime. You can see what he looks like.”

“Tell us about him,” Mom says.

“He’s a senior. He’s an artist and a musician.”

“I hope he is not one of those young men I see on the train with those piercings and big boots,” the Swede says.

“He’s not a goth or an emo kid, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s going to study visual arts in college.”

Erland looks thoughtful. “Perhaps he could be an art teacher. Teachers make a good living, you know.”

“You should tell him that, Erland.”

“When he comes over for dinner?”

“When you meet him at the door.”

Subject: My boyfriend is jealous of my books!

Dear Oracle,

I have the most ridiculous problem. My boyfriend is jealous of my favorite book characters!

I admit, I’m a bookie—you know, like a foodie, but with books. I’m the type of person who talks about book characters like they’re real. My bedroom wall is covered in posters of my favorite book characters (I’ve drawn them myself!). I’m not happy if I’m not reading a book, and I die a thousand deaths with anticipation as I’m waiting for books by my favorite authors to come out. My friends don’t understand why I’m like
this, but I’ve got some friends online who feel the same way. Honestly, I love my books so much that I would do anything to make the characters real!

My boyfriend gets annoyed when I go on about my favorite characters, but most of the time he puts up with it. Then yesterday, all that changed. He saw that I have a MySpace account under the name Cassandra, and that I’ve been chatting with a few guys who have Alejandro accounts. (Alejandro is Cassandra’s vampire lover in the book Eternity—hottest couple EVER!) Now, it’s true, I was chatting with these guys in a pretty romantic way, but it was just role-playing. Well, my boyfriend freaked out. He called it cheating! He wants me to close down the account and stop chatting with my Alejandros.

My boyfriend is being such a control freak. What can I do to get him to chill out?

Help me!

Cassandra

I forward the e-mail to Jared. It’s always good to have a second opinion, and a male perspective doesn’t hurt, either.

A few minutes later, he calls me. Before I can even say hi, he says, “That girl’s a nut job.”

“I know a few people who like role-playing. I hear it’s fun.”

“This is what you’d call emotional infidelity, Oracle. He should dump her on her ass.”

I smile to myself.
Emotional infidelity
isn’t a term you’d expect from a teenage guy. But then, I use it fairly often, and he’s obviously been reading my Web site for a while. “Yeah, it’s crazy that she thinks he shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“Let me reply to this one,” Jared says.

“No way. You’re a little too, er, blunt for this business.”

“I would just tell her the truth—that she should get her nose out of a book and into real life, and look for a guy in real life who turns her on. Obviously the guy she’s dating right now isn’t doing it for her.”

“I don’t think it means she’s not into her boyfriend. It’s just that she also likes to fantasize about other guys.”

“Right, guys who
aren’t real.
Look, she hasn’t been married to the guy for twenty years or anything. She should be fantasizing about her boyfriend. And if she isn’t, there’s a problem.”

“You have a point there.”

“Think about it. Who do you fantasize about, Kayla? No wait, don’t answer that.”

“Why not? I fantasize about you.”

“Yeah, me, too. About you, I mean.”

Dear Cassandra,

There is nothing wrong with being swept into the world of a book and being mesmerized by its characters. But if your obsession with these characters is negatively affecting your personal relationships and preventing you from being present in your own life, then there is a problem.

I don’t think anyone would blame your boyfriend for feeling the way he does. Having “pretty romantic” conversations with other guys, whether it involves role-playing or not, would make most boyfriends uncomfortable. My guess is that his freak-out was not just about that one issue. I think it stemmed from knowing that these characters play such a central role in your life. The online role-playing might’ve been the last straw.