Confessions of a Not It Girl (18 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

If Friday hadn't been one of the worst days of my entire life, it probably would have been one of the best.

When we got to Amherst, Josh and I were hungry, but my mom and Sarah wanted to go into a little antiques shop they saw, so they gave us money, and suddenly there I was, alone with Josh in a dimly lit restaurant. Even if Panda East isn't exactly the bar at The Madison, there's simply no way around the fact that it is datelike to sit across the table from someone of the opposite sex.

Unfortunately the pleasure I got from being with Josh on something that resembled a date was undermined by the fact that I knew I needed to tell him the truth about having lied to Tom. The things I should say to him kept running through my brain like my own private Muzak loop.

You know, Josh, about what you said in the car...

The thing is, Josh, I actually
am
allowed to go out with guys, only...

It's funny, Josh, because I think Tom might have misunderstood what I said. While I'm not allowed to go out with
Tom,
I am allowed to go out with other people....

But each time I came close to uttering one of those sentences, I pictured him scowling across Mr. Kryle's

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classroom and I just couldn't say anything. Here was Josh shooting the paper wrapper from his straw at me, asking me about the tiny scar on the back of my hand, telling me about moving from Seattle, teasing me for being the only native New Yorker who can't use chopsticks.

I was supposed to give all this up voluntarily for a little thing like the truth?

The whole time we were sitting at lunch, I couldn't bring myself to tell him, so I vowed to do it as soon as we got outside. Once we were outside, I decided to tell him as soon as we were on campus. Then, just as we got onto the Amherst campus, I, being my normal klutzy self, tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and nearly fell. Josh grabbed my arm and said, "Are you okay?" He looked so concerned, I almost wished I had broken my leg just so he would keep looking at me like that while we rode to the hospital in an ambulance. (Of course with my luck I'd probably have one of those really bad breaks where the bone sticks out, and you take one look at what's happened and puke.)

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a klutz," I said.

He held my arm for an extra second. "You sure?"

We looked at each other and the
Romeo and Juliet
scene, which I hadn't thought of in weeks, popped into my head.
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He let go of my arm, and we kept walking.

Amherst looks like a movie set of a college campus. There are stone buildings with actual ivy crawling up them, big old trees that tower over you, a white chapel

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with a bell tower, and, in front of the library, a quad that leads to the top of a hill with a view over the athletic fields. It was cold but not too cold, and we had a few minutes before we had to meet my mom and Sarah, so we walked to the end of the quad and looked at the view.

"Wow," Josh said finally. "This is really beautiful."

"I know," I said. "My dad calls it the Platonic ideal of a college campus."

Josh dribbled an imaginary soccer ball around the spot where I was standing. "I thought Platonic meant when two people don't fool around."

I didn't need a mirror to know I was turning bright red. "It also means the perfect example of something." The sky was pale blue, and there were a few puffy clouds high up. Even though the students walking by us were probably talking about how drunk they'd gotten the night before or whether the person they liked liked them back, it was easy to imagine they were having intense intellectual conversations about literature and politics. The air smelled clean and earthy.

Josh looked around. "I guess your dad's right," he said.

We turned and started walking back toward the library.
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

"Wouldn't it be weird if we ended up at college together?" he asked.

I tried to look like the idea had never occurred to me. "It sure would be," I said. I could see my mom and Sarah sitting on the steps.
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

But of course, I didn't.

***

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Unfortunately, having 99.9999 percent of your brain elsewhere is not the best way to go into a college interview. Because, as one might predict, being distracted can cause a person to say things she might not otherwise say to a complete stranger.

And that can sometimes be a problem.

While I waited for my interview in the foyer of the admissions office, my mom, Josh, and Sarah went off to tour the campus. Just after three, a woman came into the waiting area.

"Jan?"

Rather than reviewing all the reasons I was a perfect candidate for admission to Amherst College, I'd been sitting there making a mental list of the pros and cons of telling Josh that I am a big, fat liar. Which might have had something to do with the fact that I looked up when my name was called and listened to the words "Oh my God" come out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"What?" she asked, looking around. She was young and very pretty. I could imagine her in a
Town & Country
spread, one with a big southern mansion in the background and lots of people lounging around on horseback.

I put my hand over my mouth. "I did
not
mean to say that," I said.

"Okay, I'll pretend I didn't hear it," she said, and she smiled at me. "I'm Lauren." I stood up and followed her into her office.

"Look, I can't resist," she said after we'd both sat down. One wall of her office was covered with
New Yorker
covers. There were tons of books everywhere, and

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I saw several copies of
Barron's Guide to Selective Colleges
on one shelf. "What were you so shocked by?"

"You're wearing my interview outfit." She looked down at her tight black turtleneck sweater and knee-length gray skirt. Then she looked at me.

"I mean, that's the interview outfit I
wanted
to get," I explained. "It's what I would be wearing if my mother hadn't made me dress like Krusty the Clown."

She laughed. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment. But I don't think you look like Krusty the Clown."

"It's not that I'm obsessed with fashion or anything," I said. "I just had this idea of how I wanted to be in college, and I wanted it to start with my interview." Suddenly I realized what I had just said. "Not that I don't like who I am." Had anyone ever sounded like a bigger idiot? "Maybe I shouldn't have just said that, either."

She was nice enough to nod rather than laugh. "I'm intrigued. How do you want to be in college?"

"Cool and self-confident." God, I sounded like a
Chic
cover.
Chic and Self-Confident:
We
Show You How.
"I mean, I want more than that. You know, I want to be intellectually challenged and stuff."
And stuff.
She probably thought I was mentally challenged. And stuff. "But I wanted the whole package to look a certain way."

"I know what you mean," said Lauren, which was nice of her, considering even
I
wasn't exactly sure what I meant. "When I first got here I had all these skirts and dresses my mom made me pack. I'm from Kansas, and my mom thought that was how I needed to dress to fit in with all the fancy East Coasters I'd meet at school."

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"Who were all wearing ripped jeans and T-shirts," I said.

"Exactly," said Lauren, laughing.

As Lauren and I talked about our moms and college and Lawrence, I actually forgot about Josh and started to feel happy. When she stood up to shake my hand, I couldn't believe we'd been talking for almost an hour.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you," she said.

"It was nice meeting you, too." Suddenly I had the urge to tell her everything that had just happened with Josh and get her advice. She seemed so smart and understanding, I had the feeling she'd know exactly what I should tell him to get him to understand why I'd lied.

"Listen," I said as we got to the door.

"Yes?" She had her hand on the knob, but she turned toward me.

The thing is, I really like this guy only I don't think he likes me. I mean, he likes me, hut he doesn't
like
me. Or maybe he does. But he might have a girlfriend. But the thing is he was mad at me because he thought I was being a bitch to his cousin only now he doesn't think I'm a bitch and so we're friends again only it's because he thinks something about me that isn't true and I was just wondering what you thought I should do about the whole situation.

Lauren was looking at me with an expectant expression on her face. I knew she was waiting for me to ask a question about the student-faculty ratio or AP credit.

"I just ..." I thought about the beautiful campus

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and how much I wanted to get a thick acceptance letter from Amherst in April. "I just wanted to say thank you for...for not thinking I was completely insane with the whole outfit thing."

She opened the door and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I really enjoyed meeting you, Jan."

"I really enjoyed meeting you, too."

The car was parked right outside the admissions office. Sarah was sitting in the driver's seat, my mom was next to her, and Josh was sitting where I'd been sitting before.

"How'd it go?" my mom asked.

"Okay. She was nice," I said.

"What did you talk about?" My mom turned to face me.

"Mothers," I said.

"Uh-oh," said my mom, turning around. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Are we all
ready?"
asked Sarah.

"I think I've convinced Josh he has to go here," said my mom as Sarah pulled away from the curb.

"Yeah, your mom should get a commission," said Josh. He handed me a cookie. "We got you this at the campus center."

"Thanks," I said. I took a bite while Josh watched. "If you don't want the whole thing, I'll finish it," said Josh.

"Okay." I took another bite. Josh was still looking at me.

"Um, do you want a piece?" I asked. I tried not to open my mouth too much since there was cookie in it.

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"Only if you don't want all of it."

"Josh, you are
such
a pig," said Sarah. "You already had three
entire
cookies."

"But if she doesn't
want
it...Maybe she doesn't like sweets."

"Everybody
likes sweets," said Sarah. We pulled onto Route 9. It was only four o'clock, but already it was dark out.

"Not Aunt Jenny," said Josh.

"Aunt Jenny's a
diabetic"
said Sarah.

"So? Maybe Jan's a diabetic." He turned to me. "Are you?"

"Diabetic?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"No."

"Oh."

"Do you want some of this cookie?" I asked again.

"Only if you don't want it," Josh repeated.

"I want you to say you want it," I said.

"I want you to say you
don't
want it," he said.

"Say it," I said.

"You say it," he said. What
was
it about that smile of his?

I ripped what was left of the cookie in half. "Here."

Josh reached for the cookie, and we both held it for a minute. "Now, you're
sure
you don't want this part?" he asked.

"I want you to have it," I said.

"You're sure, now?" It wasn't too dark for me to see how nice his eyes were.

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"I'm sure," I said. He brushed my fingers with his as he took the cookie.

"You're the best," he said, popping the whole piece in his mouth at once. He reached over and patted me on the knee. "Really." He sat, silently chewing for a minute. "And let me assure you that next time we hang out, I'm buying you your very own chocolate chip cookie."

If there had ever been a snowball's chance in hell I would tell Josh the truth, it melted with that promise.

Josh finished eating his cookie and leaned against the door. In a few minutes I could tell he was asleep, and as we got on the highway I felt myself getting sleepy, too. The last thing I thought about before dozing off was this cheesy line from an incredibly dumb movie Rebecca and I rented once:
Everybody has a price.

I couldn't believe mine had turned out to be a chocolate chip cookie.

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CHAPTER TWENTY