Gimme a Call (15 page)

I’m too annoyed at her to be happy about my alumni idea still being around three years later. “So you have pizza parties and hang out with my friends while I study and practice singing ‘Kiss the Girl’ again and again until I sound like a scratched CD.”

She laughs. “I guess. But it’s working, no? We got into Hofstra and I’m yearbook editor.”

Huh? “You are? I thought Joelle was yearbook editor.” Oh, no. “Don’t tell me I stole her job!”

“Relax. We’re coeditors. You didn’t usurp her.”

I dump my books onto my desk.
“Unsurp?”

“No. ‘Usurp.’ Your SAT word for today, my little friend. It means ‘to seize by force, take possession of without right.’”

Sounds like a brand of slushy. “Got it. Usurp.”

“Can you use it in a sentence?”

Ivy is usurping all my fun. “I’d feel really badly if I
usurped
Joelle’s position.”

“Bad,” she says. “You’d feel bad. I think. I don’t know. Whatever. But let’s not forget about the essay portion of the SATs. You can’t sound illiterate. And what’s ‘coagulate’?”

“To thicken,” I say, on autopilot.

“Very good. You’re doing wonderfully. You’re obviously doing well in your classes.”

“I definitely understood what was going on in algebra,” I say. “And Karin said I could come over whenever I want and listen to her tapes. And Tash said she’d explain to me what was going on in chemistry tomorrow at lunch.”

“Cool! All you need is a few more activities and we’ll be there.”

I close my eyes. “More activities? Are you kidding?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. You must be overwhelmed, but … it’s the best thing for us. I swear.”

“Ivy, I don’t know how much more I can do. Between yearbook and memorizing stuff for the play and keeping up with my schoolwork, I’m going to have a lot on my plate. Omigod, I missed the premiere of
TTYL
!” How did I forget about my favorite show?

“I can tell you what happens,” she says. “They all—”

“No spoilers!” I scream, covering my ears and dropping the phone onto the carpet. Whoops. “I’m only picking up if you promise not to tell me what happens!” I loosen my hands.

I hear her muffled promise and pick up the phone again.

“They all die,” she says.

Ahhhh! “I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. They don’t die. They get into a car accident and suffer from short-term amnesia.” She giggles.

“That would never happen on
TTYL
! That’s way too hokey.”

She giggles again. “You’d think. But I’m kidding with you. Honestly, I don’t even watch the show anymore, so I have no idea what’s going on.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Back to the real world. Colleges like applicants who are well rounded. I think you need a sport.”

That does not sound fun. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I’m really tired.” I yawn. Loudly.

“It’s only ten-thirty!”

“That’s late! It’s a school night!”

She laughs. “You’re so dimples.”

I sigh and plant my head smack in the middle of my pillow. “What does that even mean?”

“Oh, it’s just an expression we use—I use—to mean cute. Forget it.”

“Will do.” I close my eyes. My eyelids are extra-heavy. “So can I go to bed now? Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. One more. I know that I’m asking a lot, but I was thinking you should do some volunteer work.”

“You mean we should try our Save the World list again.”

“I meant more like licking envelopes for the Red Cross. Something to add to your application. Something small, no? I still think we need to fix all the stuff on the list eventually, but the plastic surgery thing still freaks me out. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“We should probably get you all settled first, anyway. Before trying the big stuff, no? Safer to use ourselves as the test dummy until we’ve gotten all the wrinkles out.”

I sigh. “Good point.” I guess saving the world can wait a few more days. It’s not like time is something we’re running out of. In fact, I kinda think we have too much of it. “So, how come you say ‘no’ after all your sentences?”

“I do not!”

“You do too. You just said, ‘Before trying the big stuff, no?’”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffs.

Whatever. I yawn again. “Anything else?”

“Yes! Did you get my text today?”

“About Harry’s beard? Yeah. Why would he grow a beard? Gross.”

“Just forget I said anything, ’kay? What about the Sean part?”

“Not kissing him? Yes, I got it.” Was I planning on kissing Sean Puttin? No, I was not. Although he is kind of cute.

“Good. He tells everyone you kiss like a fish.”

I nibble on my lip. “Why?”

“Because he’s a jerk-face.”

“Why do I kiss him if he’s a jerk-face, then?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even remember it happening. But if I were you, which I am, I would not kiss him in the first place. Did you write it down in the notebook?”

I’m pretty sure that’s something I’ll remember, but I climb out of bed, turn my light back on, find my spiral notebook, and open it. Then I write
DO NOT KISS SEAN PUTTIN
. “Done,” I say. Then I add, “I don’t kiss like a fish, do I?”

“Of course not!” she huffs. “You’re a superb kisser.”

“Swear?” I ask nervously.

“Of course. I bet he kisses like a fish, and you were trying to compensate.”

“I have no idea how I kiss,” I admit. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“That’s right. You still haven’t had your first kiss!”

“Thanks for rubbing it in.”

“I’m not. It’s dimp—sweet.”

I hug my pillow to my chest. “When do I have my first kiss? Real kiss, I mean. Not like with Jarred and Anthony. With tongue.”

She laughs. “You’re seriously adorable.”

“Don’t laugh!” I say, my cheeks burning. “Just tell me the truth. What’s my first
real
kiss like?” I know what I want my first kiss to be like. How I imagine it being. Sweet and soft and romantic with someone who makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

“Oh. Well. I don’t know.”

What is she talking about? “How do you not know? You’re me in the future! You must have had a first kiss.”

“Yeah. Lucky for you I’m not Maya.”

I giggle, but then I feel bad. I miss my sister. “She’s in college now. I’m sure she’s kissed someone.” I’ve been so busy with Ivy, I kind of forgot about her. Her role has been
usurped
.

“How would I know? It’s not like we talk about stuff like that.”

“But what about
my
first kiss?”

“I remember what happened to me, Frosh,” she says softly. “But what is going to happen with you is not the same as what happened with me. Get it?”

Aha. “Your first kiss was with Bryan.” Obviously.

She doesn’t say anything.

“Ivy? Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I am. And it was.”

“So I guess you don’t know who my first kiss is with, then. Since it’ll be different than yours.”

“Yours will be different,” she repeats, and her voice sounds faint or something. “I have to go.”

“Good night,” I say. But she has already hung up.

chapter nineteen
Tuesday, May 27
Senior Year

Even if she’ll never experience it, I can’t stop remembering.

The first kiss.

It wasn’t after movie-turned-bowling night. Or three days later, Tuesday—Frosh’s today—on our first Subway lunch. It was that Friday night, September sixteenth. I invited him over. I tried on about nine cute-yet-casual outfits before settling on jeans and a stretch V-neck shirt that showed off both my eyes and my boobs. I painted my fingernails and toenails soft pink. After an extra-long gel-and-scrunch routine, I tied my hair back in a ponytail to give it a more chill look. I did my makeup extra light to look natural, and brushed my teeth about seven times just in case.

Dad was working, but Mom made us peanut butter and white chocolate cookies and then disappeared into her room. Bryan was sitting next to me on the couch. Of course I couldn’t concentrate on TV. How could I when the cutest boy in the history of the world was sitting right beside me? When the credits rolled, he asked me if I wanted to go for a walk.

“Where to?” I asked.

“Hedgemonds Park?” he said. “We’ll rank their swings on a scale of one to ten.”

I slipped into my favorite black sandals. It was one of those perfect Florence September nights. Warm, breezy, clear stars sprinkled across the sky.

We sat beside each other on the swings. Pushing back and forth and back and forth. He started showing off, pushing higher and higher. I pushed higher and higher.

My sandal flew off.

He started laughing and jumped off the swing to get it.

He picked it up and I thought he was going to make a whole Cinderella production of it, but instead, he just stood by my swing until I slowed to a halt.

Of course I knew what was coming.

He put his hands over mine and leaned down and kissed me.

His lips were soft and light and sweet and everything else disappeared except for the kiss and the moment. The perfect kiss in that perfect moment.

Everything I had ever wanted, imagined. Happening to me. Happened to me. And now …

If you kiss a boy and he doesn’t remember, did it really happen?

If it didn’t happen, why do the memories still hurt?

chapter twenty
Wednesday, September 14
Freshman Year

I’m practicing my lines in my head when I run smack into Bryan. And I mean
smack
into. He’s standing in the hall. I’m not paying attention. I walk into him. My books scatter into the air like pigeons under attack.

“You need to be declared a national disaster area,” he says with a laugh.

“Tell me about it,” I say, feeling my cheeks burn. “It’s my fault. I was trying to do two things at once.”

He bends down to help me collect my stuff. “What’s that? Walking and breathing?”

I giggle. “No, smarty-pants, walking and practicing my lines for the play.” I pick up my economics quiz. Mr. Jacobs handed them back right away and I got an A! I am an economics genius. But now’s no time to gloat … adorable Bryan is talking to me!

“Oh, you’re a play girl,” he says.

“When you say it like that, it sounds kind of naughty,” I say with another giggle. Omigod. What am I doing? I’m flirting with him! I can’t flirt with him. No flirting with Bryan allowed! Even if he’s adorable. Even if I’m all flushed.

His smile shows off his perfect dimples. “You strike me as more nice than naughty.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” I ask.

“A compliment.”

I pile the last book into my arms and look right at him. Shoot. Why’s he still so cute?

“How’s the boyfriend?” he asks.

I’m about to say “The what?” But then I remember my lie. “Oh, he’s fine.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Um, his name?” What is his name? “It’s … um … Ivy.” Ah! “Ivan.”

He nods as though I didn’t just sound like an idiot. “What school does he go to?”

“Oh, he doesn’t go to school here. He lives … not far. In Buffalo.”

“Do you get to see each other a lot?”

“No. But we talk a lot.” I wave my cell phone. “Free long distance.”

He gives me another one of his dimpled smiles. Adorable. Wait a sec! Is that where Ivy got the expression “dimples”? Because Bryan’s are so cute?

“Good luck,” he says.

Huh? “With my boyfriend?”

He laughs again. “With the auditions.”

Right. “Thanks. See you later.” I give him a brief salute and then hurry on my way.

Karin’s locker is diagonal from mine, and Joelle and Tash are already waiting for us.

Joelle is dancing. “What are you ladies doing now? Anyone wanna come over?”

“I have practice,” Karin says with a big smile. “Sorry!”

Yes, Karin made cheerleading. Not that I’m surprised, since I already knew she would. They posted the list at lunch. I’ve thought about trying to get her to quit, but I’m not sure what I should tell her. Get out now before you become obsessed with plastic surgery? But then what if she gets another eating disorder? Or becomes obsessed with tattoos? Or becomes a drug addict? It’s like Ivy said—trying to fix one thing can lead to unintended consequences. I’ve decided to try a subtler approach.