Tell Me Again How a Crush Should Feel (15 page)

The next few weeks are filled with soulful looks between Lisa and me; avoiding Saskia, who’s seemingly taken up residence on Robert’s lap; and shaping the talents of the middle school cast. At last it’s the night of the Valentine’s Dance. I’m putting on a dress Nahal helped me pick out. She sits on my bed, playing with her camera. Mom has made her official photographer of the evening.

“How do I look?” I ask her.

“Cute. Lisa will love it.” I open my jaw and Nahal just grins.

“How did you—”

“You don’t think Mom could process your lesbianism alone, do you? She called me when you told her, and she’s been keeping me up to date. I’m impressed.”

“You didn’t say anything!”

“It’s not a big deal. I think it makes you interesting. Plus, it makes whatever guy I want to date look amazing! In fact, I don’t think it stops there. I could get a tattoo on my face if I wanted and Mom and Dad wouldn’t say a word. So, thanks.” She grins while I pout.

“Seriously though, the ladies are lucky to have you,” she says, and I give her a small smile.

“Thanks, Nahal.”

We go downstairs, where my date is waiting for me with Taryn, Simone, and Christina. Dad looks him over with skeptical glances but engages him in conversation. I hope Dad’s not scaring him or repeating the same story about that time I smeared yogurt all over my face when I was three and we had company for dinner. Dad smiles and tells me I look beautiful, then turns back to my date and gives him a stern look.

“Don’t get my daughter into any trouble,” he says, and Tomas looks a little scared.

“I doubt we will get into any trouble, sir.”

Tomas pulls a plastic box with a corsage in it from behind his back. It’s a white orchid dyed with rainbow colors. I laugh and give him a hug.

“Your dad is kind of intimidating but cute,” Tomas whispers. “A short, balding bear.”

“Does anyone want soda?” Mom asks as she directs her attention to the tech crew. They all look a little uncomfortable. Simone is clearly into the whole dance thing, as she’s wearing a tiara and a puffy pink prom dress. Christina is stuffing her face with appetizers. Taryn is wearing a dress and combat boots. She doesn’t really want to come, but for once she’s being a sport. We’re just waiting on one other couple. When the doorbell rings I answer.

Tess looks amazing. Her red dress looks even more beautiful on her than it did on the hanger. It accentuates her athletic frame, and it’s nice to see her show off what she’s working with. She’s wearing makeup and her chestnut hair is piled loosely on her head, wavy and full. Greg is linked to her, beaming. They look really cute and happy together. I yell to the group behind me. “Okay! Photo time!”

As soon as we arrive at the dance, the tech girls take to the dance floor. Well, Simone takes to the dance floor and drags Taryn and Christina along with her. The cool kids aren’t here yet. They usually show up drunk when the dance is about over, so we don’t have to worry about them for a while. Tomas is complaining about the weak decorations to Greg, who nods without bothering to check out the cheesy foil cupids and 3-D crepe-paper hearts that festoon the gym.

Tess drags Greg to the dance floor. I have to admit, he’s a good date, putting up with all of Tess’s notions of romance by slow dancing cheek to cheek when all the songs are fast.

“Nerd love,” says Tomas. “Adorkable.”

Speaking of nerd love, I notice our chaperones, Ms. Taylor and Mr. Harris, talking in the corner. Ms. Taylor looks less interested in Mr. Harris’s obvious pleading than Greg is in the decor. Against my better judgment, I walk over.

“Hi, Ms. Taylor!”

Mr. Harris shuts his mouth.

“Hi, Leila! You look great!” she says, equally perky.

“So do you! That dress is just fabulous!”

When Mr. Harris walks away, we ditch the overcaffeinated act.

“Thanks, Leila. I was about to give in.”

“He looked sincere, whatever it was he was selling.”

“Men are stupid,” Ms. Taylor says, and I chuckle. I’m always going to think of Ms. Taylor as one of my first big crushes, albeit a teacher crush, but now she’s like a friend. She does look superhot, though.

“So, you here with anyone special?” she asks.

“No, just a friend. A guy friend.”

“Well, that’s nice. College will be different, Leila. Women will be lined up around the block. I had a phase in college actually . . .” I really want her to keep going with that story, but my attention is elsewhere.

She’s here.

I say good-bye to Ms. Taylor and approach Lisa, who’s looking stunning in a black halter dress. She doesn’t look self-conscious or awkward, like a lot of the other girls in their updos and caked-on makeup, teetering on stilettos. She looks serene and natural, like she’s used to wearing a beautiful dress.

“Hi.” I’m glad the lights are dim since I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

“You look . . . like you didn’t dress yourself,” Lisa replies.

“Can’t you just say I look nice?”

“You look nice. More than nice, actually,” she says, quirking a brow, and I feel like my smile is going to make my face explode.

“You’re gorgeous. Don’t you find it exhausting, being so pretty?” I ask. She laughs and takes my hand.

“Only as exhausting as keeping up with your train of thought sometimes.”

“What made you decide to come?” I had wanted Lisa to come with our group, even if she wasn’t ready to be my date. She said she’d think about it but never gave me an answer, and I didn’t expect her to show at all.

“Some girl,” she says. “She’s not so bad.” I look down, suddenly shy, and realize we’re still holding hands.

There’s a shriek over at the snack table. The cool kids have arrived. Ashley is covering her mouth with her hands. She stares at Tess. They’re both wearing the same dress. The dress Saskia picked out for Tess. Ashley looks like she’s about to murder someone, and Tess takes cover behind Greg. Saskia walks up to Ashley.

“Oh dear! How embarrassing for you, Ashley.” Saskia smirks and Ashley runs out of the gym, crying hysterically. So that’s why Saskia wanted to go dress shopping with us. Robert stands behind Saskia, his eyes lidded and a hand on the small of her back, drunk and wobbling.

Saskia looks around the dance floor. When she sees me, she shrugs Robert off and makes her way over. Saskia looks at me, then at my hand in Lisa’s. Her nostrils flare, and she has the sinister glint of a James Bond villainess in her eye.

“Hi, ladies. Lovely party, no?”

Lisa and I don’t respond.

“Aw, that’s sweet, Leila. A Muslim and a Jew. You guys should be on a poster for the United Nations.”

I let go of Lisa’s hand and face Saskia the way I should have weeks ago.

“Why don’t you go take care of Robert?” I say. “He looks like hell.”

“He’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Do you think it’s really going to work with her? All she does is brood and smoke! She’s hardly a conversationalist. Unless she’s talking about her dead brother.” I lunge at Saskia, shoving her back. The DJ has stopped the music and all eyes are on us. I feel Ms. Taylor put her hand on my shoulder. Saskia just laughs.

Mr. Harris is talking to Robert and clearly finds out that Robert is severely under the influence when he throws up all over Mr. Harris’s shoes. I would enjoy the scene, if I weren’t in the middle of a catfight.

“So you finally show some anger,” says Saskia with a sneer. “It’s about time. What are you going to do? Nuke me?”

“Girls! That’s enough!” says Ms. Taylor.

“I’ll say when it’s enough,” Saskia says. She leans into me, grabs my face with both hands, and plants a giant, wet kiss on my mouth. I struggle to get away, but she’s holding me tight. When she lets me go, I fall backward a little and Lisa catches me. “Now you finally get what you wanted! You’ve been harassing me to kiss you for months, you predatory lesbian.” Saskia throws her hands wide, laying it on thick for her audience. “There! Now everyone knows what you are!” It works. Everyone at the dance is entranced by the spectacle. The jig is up. My nightmare has come to life. I can only stand there, breathing heavily.

Greg and Tess are watching, mouths open. Tomas has his eyebrows raised and is clearly enjoying the intrigue. He probably wishes he were taking notes on the delivery and timing. Taryn, Christina, and Simone signal me with punching motions, suggesting that I beat Saskia up. I’m frozen and don’t know what to do, until Lisa takes my hand in hers.

Standing by my side, she looks into my eyes. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. “Are you ready?” Lisa whispers. I think about all the worry, all the fear, all the anxiety over something that I can’t help, that’s beyond my control. I’m so very, very tired.

I nod.

Lisa kisses my temple and I hear a collective gasp.

“Yeah. Now they all know,” I say. “Thanks.” Lisa and I walk out of the gym to the thunder of hollers and applause.

Once we are in the hall, I feel like collapsing. Lisa rubs my back. I can’t believe I’m out. What if Dad finds out? What if he kicks me out? What if I lose my friends?

“Lisa, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to . . . You can go back in. Tell everyone it’s a misunderstanding.”

Lisa just looks at me, but her eyes are filled with tenderness and patience. Once I start rambling I can’t stop. “I just mean, you’re important and beautiful and you don’t have to feel like you have to—” I can’t get anything else out because Lisa pushes her lips to mine.

The brave thing to do would have been to go back to school on Monday and face everyone after the dance, but honestly, I’m enjoying daytime TV too much. I’ve noticed that some of the women on
General Hospital
are superhot. I wouldn’t mind being sick at their hospital, and my life is kind of a soap opera these days anyway—I might as well get pointers on how to get through it. So I’ve been faking sick for three days. I decided on a stomachache as my illness, since it’s doesn’t require a fever. Dad has been inspecting me, but they don’t know I’ve been going to WebMD to make sure my symptoms remain accurate.

Lisa has called my cell phone a few times, but I can’t talk to her.

The only one not buying my illness is my mom. She’s been attentive, but not so much to my physical ailments. Instead she keeps asking me if there’s anything I want to talk about, but I shrug and say everything is fine—even though I’ve been in the same sweatpants and T-shirt since Monday. I haven’t slept much, and my hair looks like the bride of Frankenstein’s. Not symptoms of a stomachache. Also not the best time for anyone to come visit me, but Lisa does anyway.

“Leila, Lisa is here to see you” is all the warning I get. Lisa looks great, as always, and I keep wondering what the hell she would want with someone like me.

“I heard you were sick,” she says with just a hint of an eye roll.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling so great,” I mumble.

“I’ll go get you girls some tea,” Mom says, picking up on the tension between us, and heads to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asks.

“Watching
General Hospital
. You know, it’s really not as bad as I thought it would be. There are a lot of plot intricacies, nuanced performances.”

“That’s not what I meant, Lei.” Lisa puts a folder full of homework on my bedside table. I nod in appreciation.

“I was feeling like we were going to do this thing together?” she says.

This thing. This relationship? Are we going to sign our parents up at PFLAG and wear matching T-shirts that say:
I’M NOT A LESBIAN BUT MY GIRLFRIEND IS
? We haven’t even had time to figure “this thing” out. When Lisa dropped me off at home after the dance, we looked at each other like dewy-eyed baby seals. But we can’t do that at school without some jerk smirking, thinking of us making out, I’m sure.

“I want to. It’s going to be hard, though. My dad still doesn’t know.” Lisa sits down at the edge of my bed, far enough away that Mom won’t think something “funny” has been going on when she gets back.

“I don’t get why you’d want to do this,” I continue. “I mean, you have everything. You could just date some guy, maybe Robert or someone in his group.”

“He’s suspended for drinking on school grounds. Plus, I’d probably have to drive him everywhere once he gets that inevitable DUI.”

“Is Saskia still at school?” I ask.

“Why do you care about her?” Lisa says angrily.

“I don’t care about her. She just . . . she—”

“Scares you.”

“You don’t get it,” I say.

“I get that you’re scared. You’re scared of everything.”

“I am not!”

Okay, maybe I am, but maybe I have reason to be. What if my dad finds out and kicks me out of the house? What if he cuts me off financially? I’ll be homeless, and who is going to take me in then? Ms. Taylor? She’ll probably bore me with stories of her dates, and then tell me her apartment is getting too crowded, what with the appearance of her new man candy. Then I’ll be on the street, selling balloon animals in Harvard Square, only I don’t know how to make balloon animals, so they’ll all be snakes or worms. The children I sell them to will be disappointed, the parents of those children will want their money back, and all the other street performers will laugh at me. Everyone will laugh at me.

What scares me the most, though, is the possibility that Lisa will figure out that I’m not good enough, and she’ll leave me. And I’ll have to do it alone. I don’t think I could manage it.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Lisa says. “Saskia is suspended, and she might be expelled. And even if Saskia does rear her ugly head on campus, Ashley already has her sights on her for that dress thing. And your friends, if they really are your friends, won’t care.”

“How are people treating you?” I ask. I’m worried about Lisa, but I also want to know what to expect.

“I’m used to being talked about, Lei. It doesn’t bother me. I don’t really care about other people. I’ve only ever cared about you . . . and that scared me for a long time.” She reaches across the bed and takes my hand. “If I can get over my fear, why can’t you?”

I didn’t think Lisa was afraid of anything. Even before her brother died, she was always quiet, but she took things head-on.