Fat Cat (22 page)

"I know you'd never do that unless we went to the clinic first," Amanda said. "And by then I'd have talked you out of it."

I wasn't in the mood for logic. "Everybody's going to know."

"Know what? People don't care."

"Of course they care!" I said. "I'll tell you one person who for sure is going to care, and that's Matt McKinney. 'You should watch out for her,'" I mocked. "'Love 'em and leave 'em.'"

"Who cares what Matt thinks? You're a free woman. You can do whatever you want. And if that includes shoving your tongue down Nick Langan's throat, then so be it."

"Please stop."

"And look at it this way," Amanda said. "It serves Matt right. Nick was right about you being amazing. I'm glad to hear someone appreciates you--they all should. Let Matt say whatever he wants. The truth is, you know he's jealous."

"No, he's not."

"Then why would he go to the trouble of warning Nick about you? It's not like they're friends, are they?"

"No," I admitted.

"Then ask yourself why Matt did that. I say he was trying to keep away his rival--write that down in your notebook."

"I say you have a very active imagination," I told Amanda. "Let's try a different story: Matt McKinney hates my guts, and so he will do whatever he can to make my life miserable. Including telling guys not to go out with me. The end."

"Matt is a tortured soul," Amanda insisted. "He's Heathcliff and you're Cathy. He's Rochester and you're Jane Eyre. He's--"

"Darcy and I'm Elizabeth. I get it. And you're wrong."

"We'll see-ee," Amanda sang. "As far as I'm concerned, the experiment lives on."

63

Day 126, Wednesday, December 24

Christmas Eve feast of some sort. I still haven't figured out what to make yet. My dad just asks that it not involve tofu.

Nick showed up this afternoon.

Bearing gifts.

One being a beautiful pink fleece scarf that will be perfect for walking to school on cold winter mornings, the other being Nick's random collection of chemicals that once again pulled me under his spell.

I am so disgusting. And weak.

My whole family was hanging around, of course, so I had to introduce Nick to them (actually re-introduce in my parents' case, since they'd met him at a few science fairs, whether they remembered him
or not). Then my parents, for some bizarre reason, showing no parental judgment whatsoever, let Nick come with me to my room for a while, where the minute the door was closed Nick and I went right back to it, mashing ourselves against each other and kissing and panting and--

I am so disgusting.

But once again, the hand went to the breast, and once again, the hand was forcibly removed.

"It's not happening," I told Nick. "Ever. So you might as well forget it right now."

"It's happening," he assured me.

I pulled both his hands away this time. "No, seriously. I've already decided I'm never going any further with you. So if that's what you're expecting--"

He looped my new pink scarf around the back of my neck and held me to him while he kissed all the sense out of me.

"I didn't get you anything," I said quite lamely during one of the few times I could catch my breath.

"Yes, you did," Nick said, and back we went.

After about ten minutes of that, I couldn't take it anymore. "You have to leave. Now."

"I don't think so."

I took a few steps back just to make the room stop spinning. "I'm serious--this is not what I want."

"Could have fooled me," Nick said, and I could see his point.

What had happened to all my scientific objectivity? This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. The experiment was supposed to be about how guys react to me, not how I completely lose my mind around them.

When did the whole thing get out of hand? One minute I was
interviewing Nick about why he thought he was so successful with girls, and the next minute I was demonstrating the answer for myself. I can't help that the guy is just incredibly sexy. Who knew that was hiding under all that intellectual arrogance all these years?

But I knew it was wrong. WRONG. Even aside from the fact that my experiment had turned into a total free-for-all, it was wrong because it's not what I want. A guy might have all the sexual magnetism in the world, but I want more than that. I don't want to be treated like a piece of meat. And I don't want to treat someone else that way, either.

No matter how exciting it might be in the moment.

I sat him down on the edge of my bed. Big mistake. He had me on my back in no time.

So I stood up. Held my hands out in front of me to ward him off.

"Go. Shoo. Bad. Go away. Thank you for the scarf. Now go."

Nick smiled and patted the spot next to him on my bed. I sat down but did not recline.

"Look," I said, "I'm incredibly old-fashioned this way. Believe me, if I weren't, you'd be the one." It was hard to think with him stroking my arm like that. "But I need to be in love. And I'm clearly in deep lust here, but I'm sorry, I don't feel love."

"That's okay," Nick answered. "We're friends. That's enough."

"Not for me. I need"--I circled my arms in the air--"big love. Big huge committed love. Maybe that sounds ridiculous, but it's what I've always wanted. And I know if I settled for anything less, I'd really, really hate myself. And you."

"Well, I don't want you to hate me."

"Thank you."

"But I do think you're being shortsighted," Nick said, still stroking
my arm. "This could be really great, the two of us. You know it as well as I do."

"Yeah, great at the physical level, but I still need more. Sorry. Maybe someday I'll accidentally fall in love with you after all, and we'll be right back here."

"Will you let me know?" Nick said. "All it takes is a word."

"Really? Like 'now' or something?"

"'Now' would work. Or, 'Here, Nick,' or just whistle for me. You're hot, Cat. Anytime you're ready--"

I patted his leg. "Thank you." And then I shook his hand. Very businesslike. "Okay, then, I think we're through here for now."

"You sure?"

I wasn't, but I had to say yes. "Do you want your scarf back?" I asked.

"No, just the girl who goes with it."

Oh my gosh, that guy knows his lines. I tried to be cool, but my voice gave me away by cracking. "I'll let you know."

He kissed me once. "You do that."

And then he left. Just like I'd asked him to.

I fell back on my bed, my lips still throbbing from all the attention he'd been giving them, and I actually felt a little tear form in the corner of my eye. Not because I loved Nick Langan so much and I had just lost him, but because I didn't love him and had let him go.

I thought guys were complicated. Maybe they are. But maybe they're easy and it's really me who's complicated.

Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas.

Now pull yourself together.

64

Day 138, Monday, January 5

A new year and only 69 days to go. Phase II officially over. What was I thinking?

I felt like everyone was staring at me today--like everyone was talking about what happened at the formal. I even caught Greg Beecher giving me a dirty look. As if I care what he thinks.

I'm back to looking like I did at the start of this project--no makeup, no special clothes, uncontrollable hair. I'm done trying to see what effect I can have on guys if I really put in the effort. If I have some sort of powers, like Amanda said, I'd rather not use them, thank you very much.

It was a stupid idea--and way too much trouble. Plus I've already had enough effect with just two guys to last me until the end of high
school. I know Amanda is disappointed, but honestly, I can't take the pressure of trying to be pretty all the time. I don't know how girls do it.

So I walked into Mr. Fizer's today wearing just jeans (girl jeans) and a sweater and (I have to confess) Nick's pink scarf. I don't know why I did it, but I just did. Maybe I wanted to show him there were no hard feelings. I don't know, maybe I wanted him to still like me just a little.

He looked up and smiled when I walked in. Then he went right back to serious consideration of whatever it was he was working on. Scientist first, seducer second.

It looked like everything was back to normal, but then I saw Matt. Or more specifically, I saw Matt see me see Nick. And I must have blushed or something, because suddenly Matt's expression darkened, and for the first time in my life I saw him look at me so hatefully it made me want to turn around and run.

He quickly averted his gaze back to his notebook, but it was too late--I'd already seen.

And it really made me mad.

What does he have to be angry at me about? I wouldn't be surprised if he heard about Nick and me at the dance, but that's none of his business. And if it's for some other reason, then I can't imagine what. I've never been anything but nice to that guy, up until the time I realized he was a traitor. I admit I've been cold since then, but it's justified. And besides, I've certainly never set out to harm him in any way, other than beating him at grades or science awards. It's not personal--mostly--it's just business. So he has no reason that I can see for giving me that nasty look today. No reason at all.

I ignored him the rest of class. I had too much on my mind already
to worry about why Matt McKinney might hate me. It's obviously been brewing for a while, since he made those rude comments about me to Nick.

Anyway, there's plenty to worry about with school. We're moving on to integration in Calculus, we're going to be doing twice as many labs in Chemistry, Ms. Sweeney has assigned us some ten-pound novel to read for English Lit, I have to prepare a piece for my spring recital in Piano, Mr. Zombie is heading into the Civil Rights Movement and the glorious sixties, which I just know he wants to relive, and Mr. Fizer told us today that he wants our project prototypes by the end of the month so he can look them over before we head into the final few weeks of preparation--oh, and there's this little matter of all my AP exams. So yes, I'll be a bit busy this semester. The only thing that isn't going to kill me is Sign Language. We all have to perform a song or poem in front of the class, but I'm sure Amanda will help me with that.

So Matt McKinney can just save his surly attitude for someday when I actually have time to deal with it. Until then, I'm too busy to care.

As I was leaving class, Nick came up behind me and gave my upper arm a squeeze on his way out. My heart involuntarily sped up. Boy, that guy really has it.

Then he walked on without even looking at me, which was just what I wanted. I don't need to draw any more attention to us than I already have.

I was still standing there, dealing with my racing heart, when I heard Matt mutter under his breath, "What are you doing?" Then he, too, walked on without looking at me.

I liked it better when things were simple.

65

Day 151, Sunday, January 18

Breakfast:
Oatmeal, walnuts, banana. That's all I ever have anymore because it's all I want. Simplify. I think from now on I'll just write "the usual."

Lunch:
Spinach, garlic, and potato soup; homemade multigrain bread; apple with peanut butter.

"I think the problem," Amanda said, "is that you're a good girl. And when you went out with Nick, you were pretending to be bad. It just wasn't going to work."

Amanda can't stop analyzing my love life--now that I've finally
given her something to analyze. It must have been hard for her before, with nothing to go on.

We were taking a break this afternoon from our Sign Language project, mainly because smoke was starting to come out of my ears from having to concentrate so hard. We're the first team who has to perform this semester, and I know if I don't start learning it now I'll never get it in time.

We've decided to keep it simple for my sake and just sign "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in a round, even though Amanda could probably sign an entire opera. In Italian. So far I haven't made it past "gently down the stream."

Amanda settled onto the floor of my room with her bowl of soup and a hunk of bread. "So," she said, still grilling me about Nick, "anything lately?"

"The usual brush against me on his way past. Which, of course, drives me insane. A guy like that should walk around in protective glass."

"I admire your stubbornness," Amanda said. "I don't know if I'd be able to resist if I were you."

Which was just the opening I needed. Because I've been wanting to talk to her about it for a while lately.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

"Sure."

"You guys ... still haven't, right?"

"What, had sex? Don't you think I'd tell you?"

"So you're still sticking with the plan?"

"Of course," Amanda said. "For now."

Amanda developed her virginity policy back in junior high. Both her older sisters were in high school then, both of them were sleeping with their boyfriends, and each of them told Amanda separately how
much they wished they had waited until they were older. That made an impression. So Amanda decided to take their advice and wait until college or even later, depending on how she felt at the time. Their point was, there's no hurry.

"But you still love Jordan, right?"

"Of course. Right now I'm hoping he'll be the one. But it's just too soon. He knows I'm not ready."

"And he doesn't get ... frustrated with you for that?"

"Probably, but he keeps it to himself. He's the most patient guy I've ever known. That's one of the reasons I love him." Amanda smiled. "And one of the reasons I'd like to reward him, eventually, if you know what I mean. But let's talk about you and Nick--what's your plan?"

"I don't know. Sometimes it's so tempting, you know? Just give in and have a good time. But I keep thinking it would be nicer to have the whole package--not just the physical, but the love part, too. I want a real boyfriend who I know really loves me."