Confessions of a Not It Girl (14 page)

151

I thought for a second.
"Cosmo, Glamour, YM, Seventeen.
And," I added, "it's not crap."

He pulled his stick back smoothly at the elbow and snapped it at the cue ball. A striped ball rolled neatly into the corner pocket. "So you're saying you'll eat food you don't like just so a guy won't think you're a picky eater?" he asked, standing up. "What if you were allergic to nuts? Would you go into anaphylactic shock just so you could have a guy like you for two minutes right before you
died?"

"Nobody's
dying,
Rogier. I'm just asking for a little advice, that's all. Would it kill you to be helpful for one second?" I couldn't believe how dense he was being.

Rogier leaned on his cue stick for a minute and pursed his lips. "Okay. If you want my opinion, eating ice cream with nuts is not going to be the thing that advances your relationship with this guy to the next level." He laughed at how clever he was, then took a shot and sank yet another ball.

"Gee, thanks, Rogier. That hadn't occurred to me." I remembered my fantasy about Josh confessing his undying love for me at my brother's funeral. Had I actually been feeling
guilty
for imagining him dead?

I decided to give it one more try. "Like, okay. How did you and Larissa get together?"

"She asked me out." Rogier didn't look the least bit embarrassed by this, but I was shocked.

"She did what?"

He was surveying the table again. "Look, Jan, if this guy is anything like me or any of the guys I know, he'd probably appreciate your making the first move."

152

I couldn't help laughing. Because if there is one thing Josh definitely is
not,
it's anything like Rogier.

Or his dorky friends.

It was hard to muster up any disappointment when Rogier finally sank the eight ball and defeated me for the fourth time that night. Neither one of us said much on the way home, but just before he unlocked our front door, Rogier turned to me.

"Look, I'm sorry I was so flip before." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Relationships can be complicated. I'm sure that soon you'll have a boyfriend and you'll feel comfortable just being yourself around him."

I looked at Rogier. Had I really dreamed of having a "wise" older brother who would dispense insight from the lofty heights provided by our two-year age gap? Had I, in fact, longed to go to this person for help navigating the world of love and romance?

If so, it was a shame because now that he was patting me on the shoulder and offering comfort and advice, all I really wanted to do was strangle him.

153

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Once again I have Mr. Kryle to thank for the latest development in my (nonexistent) love life. In September, when I saw I'd gotten him for English, I actually hugged my guidance counselor. When I think of how perfect my life would be today if only I'd gotten Mr. "Don't I Resemble Tom Cruise" Perkins or Miss Muller the human fossil, I want to travel back in time and slap myself silly.

Monday started off uneventfully enough. I wasn't even sorry to be back in school despite the fact that my best friend wasn't speaking to me and my crush was mad because I didn't want to have his freak midget cousin for a boyfriend. Considering all I'd done over the Thanksgiving break was play pool with my brother and go to the movies with my parents, I didn't exactly see what I had to be thankful for.

In English, we started off talking about a character in
The Sound and the Fury
who meets his sister's fiancé and immediately hates him. Suddenly Mark Jacobs said, "That is
so
screwed up. How can he tell if he hates the guy after five minutes?"

Mr. Kryle laughed. "Are you telling me you don't judge people you've just met?"

154

"You can't go by first impressions," said Mark. "People's true value is hidden."

Mark Jacobs is the kind of guy who rates girls on a scale of one to ten based on things like how big their breasts are. There was no way any sane human being could let his comment stand. I felt compelled to speak.

"Mark," I said, "you are so full of crap." Everyone started laughing and turned to look at me, which I guess is what you get if you don't say anything for weeks and then suddenly come out with a real intellectual whopper. Mark laughed along with the rest of the class--he knew he was being totally full of it.

But right when everyone was still laughing, Josh said to me, "So, what? It's not important to know someone before you judge them?"

"Well, I mean, if you've never
met
them, you shouldn't judge them. But if you
meet
a person, you can judge if you like him or not."
For example, if he spends two hours staring at your chest you might decide you don't like him.
"Like, take ..." I tried to think of an example that was
not
Henry.

"Think of Romeo and Juliet," suggested Mr. Kryle. I guess that was his idea of helpful.

"But that's different," I said. "That was love at first sight." I felt my face go red as I said it.

"Well, what was it based on?" asked Mr. Kryle.

"Yeah," said Josh in a really snotty voice. "I mean, would you say Juliet based her judgment just on Romeo's clothes, or did she take into account his overall looks?"

155

"Ah,
hello,"
I said. I couldn't believe I stood accused of being shallow just because I didn't experience love at first sight with someone who spends his spare time reading
Barron's Guide to Selective Business Schools.

Mr. Kryle just watched us, which is what he always does when the class starts arguing about something. Only this particular argument didn't seem to involve the whole class so much as it involved me and Josh.

"I'm not saying Juliet knew every single thing about Romeo from their first meeting," I said finally. "I'm just saying you can get a
sense
of whether you have chemistry with a person."

"You?"
asked Josh.

"Juliet,"
I said, clenching my teeth. Why was he being so obnoxious?

"So you're saying
Juliet"
--he emphasized the word in a really nasty way--"proves it's possible to know right away whether or not someone's worth your time." Josh was leaning his chair back a little, and I found myself hoping he would tip over.

"Right," I said. "She could tell that--"

"Based on
what?"
Josh let the front legs of the chair come crashing down. I was almost afraid he might leap over his desk and hit me.

"Based on lots of stuff." I tried to think of specifics. "How he talked. How he acted."

"I know what Romeo based
his
judgment on," said Mark, holding his hands in the air like he was measuring out two fairly large breasts.

156

"Thank you very much for that edifying contribution, Mr. Jacobs," said Mr. Kryle.

"Did it ever occur to you that you can't get to know everyone
right
away? What if Romeo had been shy or--"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't get to know someone before--" I began.

"You can definitely tell if someone's cool or not when you first meet them," said Mark.

"Wait, what constitutes 'cool'?" Mr. Kryle asked.

"I don't know," said Mark. "You can't really describe it____"

"But you know it when you see it? Like pornography?" said Mr. Kryle.

"I know pornography when I see it," said Mark. Everyone laughed.

"Is it what he wears?" asked Mr. Kryle, ignoring Mark's comment. "Do 'cool' people wear certain things?"

"Not exactly," I said.

"Yes," said Mandy. "The clothes make the man." Clearly Mandy had decided her life's ambition was to be a staff writer for
GQ.

"So what if a new kid showed up and he was wearing jeans and a..." Mr. Kryle looked around the room at what the guys were wearing. "He's wearing jeans and a T-shirt and ..." He looked at the boys' feet. "And cowboy boots."

Everyone laughed.

"Cowboy boots?"
said Mark.

157

"Cowboy boots," said Mr. Kryle. He turned to Mandy. "And he asks you out. What do you say?"

"Mandy, you
cannot
go out with Mr. Wild West," said Jenny Rubin.

"Ah, I don't
think
so," said Mandy, taking a lipstick out of her bag.

Mr. Kryle looked over at me. "How about you, Jan?"

"The cowboy boots are going to be a problem," I said. "Does he wear them every day?"

"Every day," said Mr. Kryle.

"Because you can tell a lot about someone by his shoes," I said.

"That is
so
screwed up," said Josh. "I can't believe you think that!"

I
couldn't believe Josh
could
believe something I'd obviously meant as a joke exposed some deep character flaw. I was so mad I wanted to scream, but now the whole class was waiting for me to answer Mr. Kryle's question.

"Come on, Jan," said Mr. Kryle. "This is your moment. You and your cowboy riding off into the sunset together. What do you say?"

"Don't do it, Jan," shouted Mark.

"Sorry," I said, avoiding Josh's glare. "I'm going to have to pass."

Mark started applauding, and so did a few other people.

Josh just scowled at me.

Rebecca was in Puerto Rico until Tuesday night, so even if she hadn't been not speaking to me, there was no way

158

I could reach her. The cruel irony of not having a best friend just when I needed her most was not lost on me as I sat in study hall (which I would have cut if there'd been anyone to cut it with), arguing with Josh in my head.

It's not that I run around making snap judgments about people like,
Oh, he's cool. Oh, she's a loser.
I mean, who knows better than Jan--the queen of the big-butted girls--that it's wrong to judge someone by how she looks? Who knows better than Jan--a girl whose closet is a sea of Levi's tags while her best friend's idea of a "little" shopping spree is a day spent at Barneys maxing out her MasterCard--that it is wrong to make assumptions about a person's character based on wardrobe? Me, superficial? Hardly. Prone to snap judgments? Ah, I don't
think
so.

I was at least twenty pages behind in
L'Etranger,
but I couldn't concentrate on reading. Richie was sitting a few rows away, bent over his book, making notes in the margins. I thought longingly of the good old days, when he would let me copy his French homework if things got particularly desperate. Desperate or not, you can't exactly copy a reading assignment. I pushed down on the binding of the book and forced myself to stare at the page.

"Tout de suite, on lui a demandé depuis quand elle me connaissait. Elle a indiqué I'époque où elle travaillait chez nous."
Okay, maybe I had judged Henry a little on the white sneakers and greasy hair, but if he hadn't spent the whole night staring at my chest, talking about things being
provincial,
and mentioning his SAT scores every

159

five seconds, I might have been able to overcome his wardrobe and physique. I mean, I still wouldn't have gone out with him, but at least I wouldn't have spent the night fantasizing about stabbing him in the ear with a metal toothpick.

And let's not forget my willingness to reevaluate Tom Richmond's sex appeal once he decided to water my face.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that Josh was wrong. It wasn't that I was
too
superficial, it was that I wasn't superficial
enough.
I mean, Henry wasn't the only guy I hadn't gotten a good first impression of. Hadn't I been pretty underwhelmed by
Josh
the first time we met? Hadn't I thought
he
was lame for a while, before I got all distracted by his stupid smile and his perfect green eyes? Maybe the lesson was not that I should
reject
my first impressions of people but that I should
embrace
them on a universal basis.

By the time the bell rang, I had vowed that I would do just that.

Which meant I no longer liked Josh even a little bit.

160

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tuesday was without a doubt the longest day of my life.

In junior high we read this play called
Inherit the Wind,
which is about evolution versus creationism. At one point two characters are arguing about whether the day on which the Bible says God created heaven and earth was a twenty-four-hour day, and this one character goes on and on, saying, "Could it have been a fifty-hour day? How about a two-hundred-hour day? Could the day have lasted
ten thousand years?"

I don't remember what they said in the play, but I can tell you my answer: yes, a day can last ten thousand years.

I went to every single one of my classes, but I didn't raise my hand once, and while I don't want to sound paranoid, not one of my teachers called on me. Even the woman who works the cash register at the deli where I bought a sandwich didn't say anything to me; she just took my money and gave me my change. By eighth period I was starting to get really creeped out about not having spoken a word all day, so in study hall I broke down and asked Mandy if I could borrow a magazine. She had
Cosmo, Glamour, Esquire, Entertainment Weekly,
and
Lucky.

161

"I used to like
Cosmo,"
she whispered. "But now I think it's totally boring. Have you read
Lucky?"

"No," I whispered back. I half expected my voice to sound rusty from lack of use.

She handed me the magazine.

"It's
awesome.
It's just like a really long catalog. Do you like shopping?"

"I guess," I said. What I really like is going shopping with Rebecca because no matter where we go she always manages to find me something that makes my butt look okay and that doesn't cost a million dollars.

Mr. McMannis looked up from his
Daily News
to see who was talking. Mandy opened her notebook and started writing, and when Mr. McMannis went back to his paper, she slipped me a note.