Making Out (5 page)

It was true: Graham was outside, so she was temporarily on her own behind the bar. She was hustling like crazy to get all the drinks made.

“That's okay, we'll just hang out,” Marianna said. “I'll have a tall skim milk cappuccino.”

“Is that to go or stay?”

Marianna looked hurt. “To stay. What did you think I meant by ‘hang out'?”

“She's just nervous, it's only her second day.” Heather said.

Thanks,
Lisa Marie thought. Heather could always be counted on to make nice. She was awesome at smoothing over the rough spots in relationships. Even when Lisa Marie was feeling especially premenstrual, rattling on and on about Todd, or the prom, or obsessing about getting the perfect dress, Heather never made her feel like she was being an attention hog.

“So what do I want?” Heather said, gazing up at the menu board. She stared and stared, with a distant look on her face, like she was thinking about something else.

“Yes?” Lisa Marie waited.

“Huh?”

“You were ordering.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry,” Heather snapped back to the present. “Um . . . I don't know. Surprise me, okay?”

“Well, it's kind of hard to surprise you,” Lisa Marie pointed out with a laugh. “I have to call out the drink order and then, normally, about four other people would call it out, too, while they rang it up and made it. But since I'm here alone right now, I'll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.” Heather put a five dollar bill on the counter and said, “Keep the change.”

“Ew, no. That's creepy, taking tips from my best friends.”

“Just this once,” Heather promised. “From now on, you give us extra shots in all our coffees.”

Lisa Marie made Marianna's cappuccino and tried to think of what to give Heather, but she kept getting distracted. A crowd of guys from Sidwell Friends had been hanging out at a corner table for more than an hour, and they kept watching her, like they wanted to talk or something. How was she supposed to give them her full attention with her girlfriends around?

And then the door opened, and in walked the one guy she'd had a crush on since forever. Drew Hammond, St. Claire's Academy's only honest-to-god hip-hop talent—a guy who even the teachers acknowledged was likely to make it big—was there with two guys from his posse. Otherwise known as Li'l D, Drew had been performing in small clubs around D.C. for more than a year, and the rumor was that an indie label wanted to sign him.

With his smooth, bony cheekbones, gaunt face, wild dreadlocks, and latte-colored skin, he was the hottest thing Lisa Marie had ever seen.

Her mind spun as she tried to think of something to say that would sound cool. What do you say to someone who's practically already a celebrity?

Without thinking, she just poured a regular coffee for Heather, set it on the bar without even calling it, and went to take Li'l D's order.

“Hi,” she said, wondering whether to call him Li'l D or Drew.

The thing about Drew was that there was nothing little about him. His nickname was a total goof. The story went that three of the guys in his posse all had names starting with D: Dave, Damien, and Durran. They were all shorter than he was, so they gave him the name Li'l D as a joke, and it stuck.

“Hi.” Li'l D's eyes were deep. He really looked at you, Lisa Marie thought, like he was seeing into your heart and soul, or reading your mind or something.

Lisa Marie flashed him her best smile and turned on the charm. Who cared if her friends were watching, and his buddies were standing right behind him? This was her chance to flirt with him.

“What can I get you?” She made it sound like it meant more than it did.

A smile flickered on Li'l D's luscious mouth. “How about a skim milk cappuccino with a double shot of espresso?” he said. He glanced up at the menu, then met her eyes again. “What size should I get?”

“You obviously need a big one,” Lisa Marie answered quickly.

What did that even mean? She couldn't believe she was being so bold and out there. It was almost embarrassing.

But it seemed to be working. Li'l D grinned at her, and his buddies were smirking.

She held his gaze, not wanting the moment to end.

“Okay. Give me a big one, then,” he said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone approach the counter and pick up the coffee she'd set there.

“Is this for me?” Heather called.

Lisa Marie half nodded without looking over.

“Well, okay, then,” Heather said, clearing her throat. She motioned to Marianna, pointing toward the door. “I guess we'll see you later.”

“Bye,” Lisa Marie called, barely nodding as they left.

To be honest, she was glad to see them go.

The thing about girlfriends, Lisa Marie thought, was that they were always there for you—even when you didn't want them to be.

 

 

 

 

“I'm eighteen, Dad,” Marianna pleaded, hating the sound of her own whiny voice. “I'm going away to college in six months! It's insane not to let me go out to a movie with a boy. You can't keep me locked up here forever!”

“You may or may not be going
away
to college.” Her father raised a threatening eyebrow.

Oh, wow. Was he stooping to that threat already?

“You're saying I can't go to Wash U?” Marianna's mouth dropped open.

“We still haven't settled that, you know,” her father said.

It was a low blow, and everyone in the living room felt it. Marianna's mother, who always sat silently through these arguments and couldn't be counted on to swat down a fly let alone argue with her husband, stiffened visibly. Even her thirteen-year-old brother Max was quieter than usual.

Everyone knew she'd already been accepted at Washington University in Saint Louis, her first-choice school. This was just a tactic—one of her father's favorites. He was determined to keep her obedient and under his thumb as long as possible, so whenever she acted the least bit independent, he floated the idea that maybe she should go to Georgetown instead, and live at home.

It was horrible and mean-spirited, and she didn't really think he'd go through with it. But how could she know for sure?

Why am I taking the bait?
she thought. She was letting him get her off topic. She didn't have time to be distracted. Her date with Luke was tomorrow night—she'd already waited too long to face her father and get his permission. She needed to stay focused on the subject at hand.

“It's just a movie,” Marianna repeated. She was trying to stay calm—she really was—but she could feel the panic rising in her throat. It was already 8:30 on Thursday night. How was she going to tell Luke that the date was off, the night before they were supposed to go out? “I'm graduating in two months! Come on, Dad.”

“I don't see any reason to bend the rules now,” her father said, swirling his glass of leftover Merlot.

“Er . . .” Marianna's mother cleared her throat softly, trying to speak up. All heads turned. She had never contradicted her husband before.

“Yes?” Her father's eyes dared her mother to keep speaking.

“Um, it probably wouldn't hurt to let her go out to one movie, Harold,” she said meekly. “You want her to get some experience with boys while you're still here to guide her, don't you?”

Wow. Marianna couldn't remember her mother ever standing up for her before.

Harold shot his wife a fleeting look that was hard to read. Marianna wondered if they'd have a fight later. Her dad could get really furious sometimes. He'd never admit it, but he needed anger management lessons. He was a first-class bully.

“All right. If that's what you think, Adrianna. I'll take your advice. Let's hope it doesn't turn out to be an enormous mistake.”

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

“Thanks, Daddy!” Marianna leapt up to give him a hug. She hadn't called him Daddy in more than three years. She turned to run upstairs, to call her friends and tell them the amazing news. She was going on a date with Luke. A real date!

“But you'll have to be home by 9:30,” he said sternly, stopping her in her tracks.

Was he kidding? Was he completely insane?

“No way.” She whirled around angrily, her voice thin and high. “That's ridiculous, and you know it. How can you treat me like a total child?”

Uh-oh. Her father's scowl was enough to make her sorry she'd said a word.

“If you can't control your temper, Marianna, maybe you're not old enough to have dating privileges at all,” he warned.

“It's not even a date if I have to be home that early!” Marianna complained. “It's more like he's babysitting me!”

“Who is this boy, anyway?” Her father raised his voice, and raised the stakes at the same time. The message was clear: He could change his mind at any minute if he didn't like the sound of this guy.

“He's on the cross-country team.” She knew the minute she said it that she was in dangerous territory.

“That's what I thought.” Her father looked smug. “I've always said that boys who play sports with girls are only after one thing.”

Here we go. Marianna wanted to die. She couldn't bear another one of his lectures about guys—not now. Not with her little brother smirking from his perch on a chair arm. What was he doing hanging around for this conversation anyway? It was none of his business.

“Don't you have something better to do?” she snapped at Max.

“Yeah. Can I go over to Neil's house to watch
The Matrix
?” he asked his dad.

“Yes.” Her father nodded without an instant's debate.

“I don't believe this!” Marianna screeched, pointing at the antique clock on the mantel. “It's almost nine o'clock—on a school night! How come he's allowed to stay out later than me?”

Her father glared, angry that she was even demanding an explanation from him. “Max is not going to be assaulted walking three blocks to a friend's house,” he said in a cold, patronizing tone. “I'm sorry, Marianna, but I didn't set up the way the world works. Girls are more vulnerable; that's a simple fact. Now do you want to go on this date tomorrow night, or do you want to argue with me? It's a choice. One or the other.”

A choice? That was a laugh. What choice did she ever have?

She stormed out of the living room, stomped up the steps to her room, and slammed the door. Big protest. Even she was embarrassed by how lame it was.

But at least she was going to be allowed to go out with Luke. She just hoped he would understand about the curfew.

She opened her e-mail and found a note from him in her in-box.

Marianna's head throbbed.
The film starts at 8:10.
How was she supposed to be home by 9:30? There was no possible way.

Trembling, she hit the Reply button and started to answer Luke's e-mail, but a moment later he showed up on her Buddy List. Maybe IM-ing him was easier.

Marianna waited more like a thousand seconds, but he didn't come back to the chat. Obviously, he had dumped her. She couldn't honestly blame him. What guy wanted to go out with a girl who had a
bedtime
?

Then an e-mail from Luke popped up in her in-box.

A matinee? A movie in the afternoon, when only little kids were there? How completely and utterly humiliating. He was mocking her, of course, probably to make himself feel better about canceling their date. No doubt he'd spread the news all over school first thing the next morning. Tell everyone that she wasn't allowed to stay out past frigging 9:30 on a Friday night. She might as well crawl into a hole and die.

Her cell phone rang in her purse, and she dove for it. Maybe he was calling to apologize?

Nope. It was only Heather.

“Hi,” Marianna said, too embarrassed to tell her what had happened with Luke. “What's up?”

“I'm at Lisa Marie's, and we're studying for the American lit midterm. Can we borrow your notes on
Moby-Dick
?”

“Sure,” Marianna said, agreeing to e-mail the notes. She changed the subject. “But you've got to promise me something. Promise me we'll all go to the prom as a group, like we planned.”

“Definitely,” Heather said. “I'm pumped for that.”

Not that Marianna's dad was going to let her stay out late on prom night. She'd have to really work on him to even let her go with a group of girls at all. But at least she'd be there, and she'd have on a killer dress, and she'd make Luke sorry he'd treated her like a kid.