Speed Dating (7 page)

So then Tess started saying, “Hey, Mr. Squeaky-Mouse, how would you like a piece of cheese? And she pressed the spot, and
Peter squeaked back as if he were a mouse saying, “Yes, please!” They had a whole conversation like this, where Pete was
Squeaky-Mouse. Sometimes Tess pretended to be a cat, and she hissed and scratched at Pete and made him squeak as if he were
afraid of her. They laughed so hard, Pete took a sip of Coke and accidentally snorted it up his nose, and it sprayed all over
his clothes. He went into the bathroom to clean himself off
—
and he accidentally left his boxers on the floor, under a towel. Tess didn’t know they were there until her mother found them
later that evening and waved them in her face with an accusatory scowl. Tess had to think fast
… .

To be continued…

Lina thought of Mood Swing as a kind of secret love letter to Walker, only in public. It gave her a little thrill to think
that she was writing her true feelings about him, how adorable she thought he was and how much she liked being with him, and
everybody at school could read it, only they didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know exactly what she was saying or who she
was talking about. It was like starring in
Romeo and Juliet,
with your real boyfriend as Romeo.

On top of that, girls kept stopping her in the halls to tell her how much they loved to read about Peter and Tess. “I love
to read those really secret details,” Claire said. “To find out what people really do when they’re making out. It makes me
realize I’m not as weird as I thought.”

Later that day, Lina stopped by
The Seer’s
office to
check her e-mail. She had a message from Erica Howard, the editor in charge of the
Crier
internship. Lina had sent her a link to Mood Swing and asked what she thought of it. Had she read it? Nervously, Lina opened
the e-mail.

To: linaonme

From: ehoward

Re: mood swing

Lina—Thanks for sending me the link to your new column on your blog. I’m really enjoying it. You’re a natural writer, and
the antics of Peter and Tess feel very authentic. And entertaining. I’m totally addicted. Keep it up. You could be the voice
of your generation!

—Erica

All right!
Lina thought.
I knew she’d like it! She’ll never pick Autumn
’
s
blog over mine now.

Walker came in and sat next to her. She pinched him, gave him a kiss, and said, “Did you read Mood Swing today? Erica Howard
just wrote me to say she loves it!”

He looked up at her—he’d been staring at the desktop, tapping a pencil—and scowled. Something was wrong.

“What is it?” Lina asked. “Did something bad happen? I bet if you read my column it would cheer you up.”

“I don’t think so,” Walker said. “Lina, people are onto
us. The Peter and Tess thing, I mean. Rob and I were having an argument in history about the Cuban Missile Crisis, and when
I said he was dead wrong, he said, ‘Yeah, you’re right. I’m a moron. Don’t mind me, dude, just step around the puddle of drool.”’

“He did?” Lina vaguely remembered that line about the drool from her first Mood Swing column, when she had accused most of
the boys at school—okay, all of them except for “Pete”—of being dumb when it came to girls. “But that doesn’t mean anything,” she said. “He knows I write the column and that I’m your girlfriend. He’s just ribbing you about that. And maybe he’s indirectly
taking a dig at Holly through me, through you.”

“Yeah? That’s pretty indirect.” Walker stood up and rubbed his spiky hair. “That’s not the worst of it. Jake Soros came up
to me in the locker room after gym and punched me in the stomach.”

Lina gasped. “Did he hurt you? Why did he do that?”

“He said he wanted to find my squeaky spot.”

Uh-oh.

Lina tried to lift Walker’s shirt to see if he was hurt, but he pulled it down and said, “Stop that. I’m okay.”

Mo Basri walked into the office, took one look at Lina and Walker, and said, “Hey Lina. Hey, Squeaky.” He tossed a ball of
paper in the trash and walked out.

Lina covered her face with her hands. “I don’t get it. How do they know? How did they figure it out?”

“I don’t know,” Walker said. “But I think you’d better stop writing all our secrets in your column. Because I can only take
so many punches to the gut.”

“But everybody loves it!” Lina said. She could taste the panic rising her throat, bitter and metallic on the back of her tongue.
“The Dating Game has gotten more hits than ever since I started Mood Swing. People keep telling me how much they like it.
And it could help me win the internship.”

Walker grabbed her hand. He was miserable; she could see it in his eyes. And she didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Lina, have you read Nuclear Autumn lately?” he asked.

“Nuclear Autumn?” Lina read it occasionally but tried to avoid it, even though it could be juicy. “No. Why?”

Walker pressed some buttons on the keyboard in front of her. “I think you’d better read it.”

Okay, hello? Let’s stop this “Peter and Tess” charade right now. Lina Ozu, I’m calling you to the mat on this. In case anybody
at RSAGE
—
which is supposed to be a school for gifted students, if I have to remind you
—
is too stupid to figure it out on her own, Tess and Peter, who Lina calls her “friends,” are really Lina and her boyfriend,
Walker Moore, in real life. How stupid do you think we are, Lina? I mean, dub! Anybody could have figured this out, but for
those of you who have been on drugs the last couple of weeks, here are the facts:

1. Peter has two younger brothers. Walker has two younger brothers.

2. Peter’s mother goes on a date. Walker’s mother is a widow who, I’m sure, dates (boys tell me she’s considered a MILF).

3. Jake Soros punched Walker in the stomach today and he squeaked.

4. Nobody but Lina Ozu would be dopey enough to think a squeaky stomach is cute and then pretend it’s a mouse and try to have
a conversation with it.

5. It’s typical Lina to think she’s the only girl in school who’s in love or has a decent boyfriend, and then to brag about
it on her blog but pretend she’s being all modest and not bragging about it, even though she is. Bragging, I mean.

Lina, you are so busted. Walker, I hope you like having your secrets spread all over school. Lina, you’d better hope he likes
you a whole lot.

And, everybody, stop reading Mood Swing! Now that I’ve
shown you what a pack of lies it is. I mean, it’s all true, but Peter and Tess are made up. Except that they’re really Lina
and Peter. You know what I mean.

“Ugh.” The panicky taste had spread through Lina’s whole mouth. She hoped Walker couldn’t smell it on her breath. Stupid Autumn.
She had ruined everything.

“I guess changing our names wasn’t as good a disguise as I’d thought,” Lina said.

“She pretty much nailed us,” Walker said.

“I’m sorry,” Lina said. “I’ll stop writing about us. At least, no more super-personal stuff. Okay? I promise.”

“Thank you.” She could see the relief on Walker’s face. His smile lost its tension and went back to being a sweet Walker smile.
He forgave her so easily. It was wonderful.

But now what would she write about on Mood Swing? Without the juicy details of her dates with Walker, what did she have left?
Covering the latest lacrosse game? Stiff, sterile dinners with her parents? Holly and Mads were usually good for a make-out
story, but she couldn’t tell their secrets in public or they’d be mad at her, too. What was she going to do?

To:     mad4u

From: your daily horoscope

HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: Yes, you need guidance, but why are you looking for it in an insane asylum?

I
don’t get it,” Mads said. She and Lina and Holly were eating lunch at a table outside. Across the school courtyard, Quintana
was sitting under the big elm tree with a senior named Holter Knapp. They were mauling each other.

“She’s been here, what—a week?—and she’s already hooked one of the cutest boys in school,” Mads said. “And almost every boy
at the Speed Dating party ranked her Extremely Attractive. One guy even called her Beyond
the Realm of Feminine Allure. Whatever that means.”

“She does have a good body,” Lina said.

“Sebastiano says she has animal magnetism,” Holly said. “She isn’t shy, that’s for sure. I heard she was making out with Nick
Henin at the Pinetop last weekend.”

“I still can’t get into that stupid place,” Mads said. The Pinetop Lounge was a local bar known for not carding minors—except
for Mads, who was so young-looking, even the Pinetop wouldn’t serve her.

Mads watched as Quintana and Holter broke apart for a second and smiled at each other as if they knew a secret. Then Quintana
licked her lips. Holter moved his face toward hers, but she ducked her head away, just an inch out of reach, so he had to
try again, move even closer… .

“Why is he so into her?” Mads said. “Do you think it’s the lip-licking?”

“Stop watching them, Mads,” Holly said. “It’s not polite.”

“Why not?” Mads said. “They’re kissing right out in the open, in front of everybody. If they don’t want people to watch, they
can get a room.”

“I can’t watch and eat at the same time,” Lina said, dropping her turkey sandwich.

But Mads couldn’t tear her eyes away. Animal magnetism—
she’d heard of that before. But what was it? Why was it so powerful? And how did you get it?

“She must be a great kisser,” she said, more to herself than to anyone else. Quintana tilted up her chin, gave Holter’s nose
a quick lick, then twisted her head to the side. Holter closed his eyes. He looked as if he were in heaven.

I wonder what Stephen looks like when we’re kissing?
Mads thought. She didn’t know because she usually had her eyes closed. (Did
he?)
But somehow she doubted he was in heaven. If you were in heaven, would you suddenly leave for some lame reason like something
was poking your butt? No, you’d try to stay as long as you could no matter what, ignoring any silly distractions.

“I think I’ll try some of Quintana’s moves on Stephen,” Mads said. “When it comes to kissing, I still feel like I don’t know
what I’m doing.” She wished Stephen would walk by that minute so she could practice Quintana’s techniques on him while they
were fresh in her mind. But Stephen was a junior, and their schedules were completely at odds. They hardly ever saw each other
at school. Kissing practice would have to wait until later.

“Maybe having some road-tested moves will give me confidence,” Mads said. “And isn’t that all you need? Confidence?”

She looked at Holly and Lina for confirmation. They looked doubtful.

“Confidence is good,” Lina said.

“Skill can be helpful,” Holly said.

“But confidence can’t hurt,” Lina said.

“Good luck with that,” Holly said.

“Thanks,” Mads said. Her brief spurt of confidence had completely evaporated. “Thanks a lot.”

“What’s that?” Mads pointed at a gigantic gray blob suspended from the ceiling. It was a long piece of stretchy gray fabric
stuffed with something soft and tied at various points to make it puff in and out like a worm.

“That’s one of Mom’s new pieces,” Stephen said. “It’s supposed to be a small intestine. She’s doing this series of sculptures
called Internalize, where they’re all body organs.” He pointed to a curvy, brown-red cushion on the floor that Mads was about
to sit on. “See, that’s a kidney. And there’s a halfway-finished heart in the corner. I think that’s as far as she’s gotten.”

Mads quickly stepped away from the kidney. She knew better than to sit on people’s sculpture, as long as they identified it
for her.

She and Stephen had gone to a movie, but when it was over they still had a lot of night to kill, so he brought
her to his mother’s house. His mother was a sculptor. She was upstairs in her bedroom, reading. Stephen thought she’d pretty
much leave them alone, but for extra privacy he’d led Mads out back to the art studio. It was attached to the kitchen by a
short, enclosed walkway.

“Is that a couch, or a spleen?” Mads asked, pointing at a ratty blue velvet love seat.

“Couch,” Stephen said. “Perfectly safe to sit on. Are you sure you don’t want anything from the kitchen?”

“I’m sure,” Mads said.

He sat beside her on the blue velvet love seat. He put his arm around her. She leaned against him.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go out to the movies anymore,” he said.

She sprang forward, shocked. “What do you mean?” Was this the introduction to a breakup speech? Why else would he suggest
not going to the movies?

“I mean, at the theater,” he said. “Most of the movies they show at the Twin are such a waste of time. Even the foreign flicks.
What happened to German cinema? That movie we saw tonight was total dreck.”

“Well, that
was
the title,” Mads said.

“Okay, the title may have been
Dreck,
but it’s not supposed to be literal garbage,” Stephen said. “Or maybe it is. What do I know? Is Western culture declining
that quickly?
I’m only sixteen and I’m already nostalgic for an earlier time. Where are the Fassbinders, the Wim Wenderses? The Werner Herzogs?
The Weitz brothers?”

The who? Mads sat back and relaxed. He wasn’t breaking up with her. He was just ranting. He did that sometimes.

“From now on we should just stay home and rent old movies,” he said. “Nothing made after 1999. No, 2001. Okay, 2004. But nothing
trashy, unless it’s the good kind of trashy, like John Waters.”

“That’s all right with me,” Mads said. She didn’t care if they never saw another movie like
Dreck
again. Lots of German people running around Berlin wearing gorilla costumes. Except for this one guy who wore a Santa suit.
At least, she thought it was a Santa suit. He had a red nose, and he was fat. The movie seemed like it was supposed to be
funny, but Mads hadn’t seen a funny German movie yet. Okay, she’d only seen three German movies in her whole life. But none
of them were the least bit funny.