Making Out (4 page)

“I wish I could go with you,” Heather had blurted out.

Whoa. The room had gotten super quiet for a nanosecond, until someone said, “Don't we all,” and the awkwardness passed.

Wow,
Heather realized.
They all thought I was coming on to her. Was I?
That's what having too much beer could do to her—too much, in Heather's case, being one entire bottle of Heineken. She wasn't much of a boozer or user.

At the end of the evening, right before they went to bed, Mandy pulled out a camera and said, “Group photo!”

Everyone squished together, half the girls sitting on the edge of a bed and the other half kneeling behind them, to get in the picture. Serena draped her arm around Heather and leaned in close. The feeling of skin on skin—Serena's arm across Heather's back and shoulders—sent a charge through her body like she'd never felt before.

“Smile!” Mandy instructed the group.

Not a problem.

Heather grinned like an idiot and hoped Mandy would take two or three more shots, so The Moment would never end. But Mandy got it in one.

“What a great trip, huh?” Serena said as they headed back to their room.

“Yeah.” It was all Heather could think to say.

After that, Heather had spent countless weeks trying to figure out what to do with her feelings for girls, hoping they'd just go away. So far, no luck.

It was lonely, though. She couldn't possibly tell Marianna or Lisa Marie that she thought she might be a lesbian. It would change everything.

Or would it?

She was way too scared to find out.

The hallway outside the chemistry lab was crowded with people hanging out before class, dragging their feet about going in because they knew Mr. Norton was a wimp about tardiness.

Heather pushed her way through a clump of girls and was about to go into the room when she saw Katie Morgan on the periphery.

Her throat immediately tightened up. Just being so close to such a beautiful girl made her nervous. Tall, leggy, and gorgeous, with the kind of cascading long blond hair you only see in shampoo commercials, Katie's most stunning feature was her brilliant smile. When she flashed it, you felt like you'd follow her anywhere. Guys were mesmerized by her, and every girl wanted to be her friend.

Could she possibly be gay? Heather wondered again. Probably not. For one thing, she dated guys—Marco Wessington and Eric Sandberg, to name two—although she'd never really gone out with any of them for too long.

Besides, most of the girls in school who were gay were out. If Katie were gay, Heather would know about it. Wouldn't she?

On the other hand, Katie might still be in the closet or, like Heather, not sure how she felt.

Heather had her hopes.

Mr. Norton stuck his head into the hall and made a perfunctory grouchy face, just to get everyone moving. Katie and her friends slowly ambled into the room, and Heather followed, taking a seat at a table in the back.

“Okay, class, we've got a lot of material to cover today,” Mr. Norton said. He was wearing a pair of yellow goggles and a starched white lab coat. “I want you to pair up with the person sitting next you, to share a beaker. We're going to be testing for exothermic and endothermic reactions.”

Heather glanced to her right and saw Derrick Talbot grinning at her. Oh, please. Not the dumbest guy in the senior class. Heather had already made the mistake of offering to tutor him on a chem project a few months ago—she couldn't help herself, he was so pathetic. Of course, he took it the wrong way and had been flirting with her, calling her, and IM-ing her ever since.

“Cool,” Derrick said, looking pleased as punch. “I always thought there was a lot of chemistry between us.”

Ugh.

“Well, you were wrong,” Katie Morgan said in an I'm-brash-but-I'm-cute sort of way. Katie had been sitting a few seats away, but now she nudged Derrick with her elbow. “Move over. Trade partners with me.”

Katie was the kind of beautiful, popular, confident girl you didn't say no to. Derrick gave Heather one last pleading look, hoping she'd bail him out and keep him as her lab partner, but that definitely wasn't happening. Finally, shoulders drooping, he picked up his chem book, which Heather noticed still looked brand-new, as if it had never been opened, and slid onto the next stool.

“Thanks!” Heather whispered, leaning close to Katie so Derrick wouldn't hear.

“Don't thank me,” Katie said. “I did it for totally selfish reasons.” She beamed at Heather with dancing eyes.

What did that mean? Was she saying she liked Heather? Or just that she wanted to get a good grade on this lab?

Katie's face, eyes, and smile always said, “I love getting what I want.” But not in a bad way. Heather found her confidence thrilling.

“So what the hell is an exothermic reaction, anyway?” Katie asked. “I forgot to read this chapter.”

“It's something that produces heat,” Heather said. Then she blushed because in her head she wanted to add,
Just like you.

“I'm all for that,” Katie said with a bright laugh.

Suddenly, Heather couldn't get enough air. She felt like she'd better hold very still to make sure she didn't do something dumb, or embarrassing, or wrong.

It was weird to feel so excited that she didn't know what to do with herself. Especially in chem class. This was one of her best subjects.

“You'll need safety goggles for this,” Mr. Norton was saying. “We're going to start with dilute sulfuric acid . . .”

Katie's arm brushed against Heather's hand as she reached for a pair of goggles.

Did she do that on purpose? Heather glanced over, wondering. Katie's brilliant smile beamed back at her.

The next twenty minutes were a kind of tortured, blissful agony. It physically hurt to be so close to Katie, but still, Heather didn't want class to end. She couldn't concentrate, though, and accidentally poured too much magnesium powder into their beaker. Katie didn't seem to care.

“It looks like the gunk that comes out of that creature's jaw in
Alien,
” Katie said about the green chemicals bubbling up. “Hey, do you want to come over and watch that movie with me on Friday?”

Heather froze. Was Katie asking her for a date? If so, she desperately wanted to say yes. It would be such a relief to finally be true to herself. But what if it wasn't a date? Heather couldn't bear the thought of making a fool of herself.

She could see it all now: she'd get to Katie's and not know where to sit. On the couch or the floor? Close to Katie or halfway across the room? She wouldn't know what to wear, how to talk, whether to flirt when Katie offered her a bowl of popcorn, or just eat it and shut up.

“Um, I can't,” Heather said. “I've got other stuff I have to do.”

“Okay.” Katie shrugged, only slightly disappointed.

Heather wanted to disappear.

Other stuff? Had she actually said “other stuff”? Next thing, she'd be grunting and using sign language. Heather hated herself for acting like such a social loser.

Funny, I'm never uncomfortable like this with guys,
Heather thought.

Maybe that meant something, she decided. Maybe she was better with guys. Maybe she wasn't really a lesbian at all.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, girl. Looks like you pulled it together,” Graham said when Lisa Marie showed up for her second day as a Starbucks partner.

“Huh?” Lisa Marie pretended she didn't know what he was talking about. Just because her face had been all red and puffy when she came in to work last Saturday didn't mean she wasn't totally ready to handle a stupid little job like making coffee. After all, she'd set a record learning how to make all sixty-eight kinds of Starbucks beverages, hadn't she?

“You were a mess last time,” Graham said with a shrug. “Gary wasn't sure he was going to keep you, even though you did learn all the pumps in one day.”

Wow. Lisa Marie hadn't realized that a tiny little bit of crying on the job was grounds for dismissal. She had only sniffled once. Or twice.

Anyway, she was in a much better mood now. Ever since this morning, when word spread through school that she was single again, guys had been paying a lot more attention to her. She was almost positive that one of the hottest guys at St. Claire's, Marco Wessington, had smiled at her on his way to his locker. Marco Wessington! His father was a congress-man. Marco knew he was all that, so Lisa Marie had always thought he was out of her league. But maybe not.

She stood behind the counter refilling the skim milk containers and wiping down espresso drips from the prep surface, ready to call out the coffee orders. Too bad the counter was so high. It hid her best feature, her navel, which showed pretty nicely in the low-cut black pants she was wearing. Well, maybe she could get out from behind the counter to wipe down some tables or refill the cinnamon shaker or something.

“You need an apron,” Graham reminded, handing her one. “They're required. And your shirt has to be long enough to tuck in. Make sure, next time.”

So much for her best feature.

A jazz mix CD was playing on the sound system. Lisa Marie moved in time to the Latin beat, wishing someone would come in and order something. It was so boring doing all the grunt work Graham gave her when the place was empty. Restocking the retail shelves, cleaning out the prep sinks, hauling huge containers of milk from the stockroom fridge to the bar—it was all dreary.

Dealing with customers was so much more fun.

As if her prayers were being answered, the door opened, and two guys from St. Claire's Academy walked in: John somebody and Ramone. They were inseparable, the school's two most cliché jocks. John was on the lacrosse, basketball, soccer, and swim teams. He wore a numbered jersey of some sort every day of the year. Ramone played basketball like he owned the court.

“Hey,” John said, grinning at her as he approached the counter. “What's good here?”

“I'd try the tomato juice,” Lisa Marie joked.

“I'll take it if you'll squeeze it yourself,” John said, clearly flirting with her.

“Squeeze it?” Ramone sounded seriously confused. “You don't squeeze tomato juice, do you?”

Lisa Marie and John burst out laughing.

“
Somebody's
got to squeeze it,” John shot back. “But, uh, give me a tall double espresso. I'll make it easy today.”

“Make that two,” Ramone chimed in, as if he'd never had a single original thought in his life.

“Two tall double espressos,” Lisa Marie called out to Graham.

John and Ramone paid, then slouched toward the end of the counter to wait for their drinks. When Lisa Marie bent over to get the next customer a muffin, she could feel the guys watching her through the glass case. She could also feel her apron strings dangling across her bare skin, where her cute little Juicy Couture shirt was riding up in back.

“Nice apron,” Ramone called out with a grin.

How come Todd never said anything like that, never made her feel like she looked sexy?

Lisa Marie was liking this job more and more every second.

The next two customers were older women, her mother's age, and they barely made eye contact. But a few minutes later, Bradley Boulter came in carrying his tennis racket. Bradley was too short, too sweet, and too wimpy to be labeled a jock like John and Ramone, but he was an awesome tennis player who took the team to the regionals. He was always ditching school to fly across the country for elite-level tournaments.

“Hi,” Bradley said, “when did you start working here?”

“This is my second day.” It came out sounding like she was proud to have held down a job that long. Well, she was.

“Can I get one of those iced tea drinks?” Bradley asked.

“Which one?”

“The fruity pink one.”

Lisa Marie placed the drink order properly and waited while he fished money out of his pocket.

“So how'd they get you to work here, anyway?” Bradley asked. “I mean, did the sign in the window say, ‘Hot Chick Wanted'?”

Lisa Marie blushed. This was amazing! Guys were actually hitting on her now that she and Todd were broken up. Who knew being single could be so much fun?

For the next two hours, she worked the counter and “worked it” with all the private school boys who came in to have coffee. St. Claire's wasn't the only feeder school for this particular Starbucks. There were guys from Sidwell Friends and The Field School, too.

Graham offered her a break at 6:45, after what he called “frappy hour,” but she wasn't in the mood for a break. Not with all these cool guys hanging around.

“No thanks . . . I mean, no
thank you,
” Lisa Marie corrected herself quickly. “I'm not tired.”

“Okay. You cover. I'm going outside for a smoke,” Graham said.

A few minutes later the door swung open, and Marianna and Heather came in, looking all proud of themselves for showing up, as if she'd never in a million years have expected to see them there.

“We came to keep you company,” Heather announced brightly.

“Yeah, hang out, moral support,” Marianna added.

It was a nice gesture but totally unnecessary. Lisa Marie wasn't even sure she wanted them hanging around while she tried out her new skill—namely, flirting with all the hot guys. Who needed an audience for that?

And besides, the place was buzzing.

“You two are the best,” she said. “But honestly, I'm kinda too busy to talk right now.”