Louder Than Words (9 page)

It was going to be a real live date. All I knew was that we were taking the train into New York City, but the rest was a surprise. Charlotte had insisted I wear a skirt that she proudly produced from the back of her closet—another piece in my “just in case” wardrobe.

“I knew he was going to ask you out, so I picked this up at Bloomingdale’s. With black tights, you’re going to look so cute. And you have to wear a little makeup, just mascara and eyeliner, maybe a little lipstick. It’s a special occasion.” She was more excited than I was, if such a thing were possible.

When the doorbell rang, the butterflies in my stomach almost flew out of my mouth. Until a few weeks ago, I had no illusions that a boy would want to spend time with me, unless he was carrying out some court-ordered community service. But the wind had shifted and now I was on deck, waiting for my turn at bat. The night before, Jules came over to give me a pep talk and some much-needed pointers.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“NO IDEA. HE TOLD ME TO DRESS UP—NO JEANS. HE’S PICKING ME UP AT TWELVE ON SATURDAY.” I held up the skirt and she nodded her approval.

“That sounds like a matinee. He’s definitely taking you to see a Broadway show. That happens to be a very cute skirt. I didn’t think Charlotte would go for something so short. Good for her.” Jules lounged on my bed and watched me struggling to brush my hair with one hand and type with the other.

“IS THAT A GOOD FIRST DATE?” Jules went out on dates all the time, but no one had ever taken her to a show in Manhattan.

“Very good. Theater tickets are expensive, and you’ll definitely go to dinner after. He wouldn’t spend so much money if he didn’t really like you.”

“DO YOU ACT DIFFERENTLY ON A DATE THAN WHEN YOU’RE JUST HANGING OUT WITH SOMEONE?” I knew as much about the rules of dating as I knew about the ins and outs of Olympic curling.

“He obviously likes you the way you are, so just be yourself. You can manage that, can’t you?” Jules asked, taking the brush from my clumsy hands.

“NOT EXACTLY SURE WHO I AM THESE DAYS.”

“Just go easy on the sarcasm. You can be a little harsh sometimes, especially when you’re nervous.” She squinted at my reflection in the mirror, putting my hair up, taking it down again.

“NOTED. JUST A HABIT.”

Jules didn’t know that sarcasm was impossible with Ben. Pretense was out of the question. Should I let Jules in on the secret? Although I wanted to tell her, it never seemed to be the right moment, and I wanted Jules to get to know Ben first, without getting distracted by his gypsy act. And the more I thought about it, I realized I should probably get Ben’s permission before disclosing his special power. As if she would even believe me. He would have to demonstrate—Jules was as skeptical as I was.

“IF HE’S SPENDING SO MUCH MONEY ON ME, DOES THAT MEAN HE’LL BE EXPECTING SOMETHING IN RETURN?”

I kind of hoped it did. What would dinner and a show cost me? Plenty, I hoped.

“Boys want something in return if they buy you an ice cream cone. But you should never, and I mean never, do anything out of obligation. Hasn’t Charlotte had the talk with you?”

I shook my head. “EVERYTHING I KNOW I LEARNED FROM YOUR BIRTHDAY SEX BOOK, THE ADVICE COLUMN IN
COSMO
, AND A FEW ISSUES OF
SEVENTEEN
MAGAZINE FROM THE EARLY EIGHTIES THAT I FOUND IN THE BASEMENT.”

“Well you’re a little late to the party, but you’re a quick study, so you should be able to handle it. I’ll condense all my mother’s speeches for you. Just the highlights from the Lucy Harper Book of Life Lessons. Maybe you should take notes. First, don’t have sex until you’re in college, if then. Second, oral sex is risky because you can catch a nasty STD, so don’t think that’s the easy way out.”

“TMI.”

“Third, boys will say anything to get you to mess around with them, so don’t believe them when they tell you they love you or they’ll die if you don’t have some kind of sex with them. Fourth, don’t drink or do drugs, because it makes you horny, fucks with your good judgment, and lowers your resistance.”

“YOUR MOTHER SAID FUCK?” Mrs. Harper was a Sunday school teacher and wore seasonal appliquéd sweaters. Fudge, maybe, but fuck, never.

“I don’t think my mother even knows what that word means. I just added that part for emphasis. Don’t interrupt—now I’ve lost my place. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Lastly, if a boy really and truly cares about you, he won’t pressure you, because he’ll want to be with you for more than just a few minutes of heavy breathing and pelvic thrusting. Got it?” Jules took a deep breath. “That’s the gospel according to Lucy Harper, PTA treasurer, woman of the world.”

“SO WHAT DOES THAT LEAVE ME WITH? IS KISSING OKAY? OR WILL I CATCH SOME DISFIGURING DISEASE?”

This dating thing was far more dangerous than I had ever imagined. Jules had definitely taken the wind out of my sails.

“I left out my mom’s mono/herpes speech. If she had her wish, I’d go out on dates wearing a body condom, if I went out at all.”

“SO NO KISSING? WHAT’S THE POINT THEN? I MIGHT AS WELL JUST GO OUT WITH YOU.” Having discovered the earth-shaking sensation of Ben’s tongue in my mouth, I could hardly focus on anything else.

“You should be so lucky. You have to understand—Lucy’s kind of uptight. And my dad’s a doctor, an infectious disease specialist, no less. It’s a lethal combination. But the way I see it, what’s life without a little risk? I’ve kissed a few guys and I’m still here, so I think making out is fine. Don’t you dare tell the parental units. I’ll be grounded until menopause.”

“ALL YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS ARE SAFE WITH ME. BEN LOOKS PRETTY CLEAN ANYWAY, DOESN’T HE?” We could take a shower together, just to make sure …

“Yes, he strikes me as someone with spectacular hygiene. Personally, I won’t go out with a guy unless he flosses regularly and carries Purell in his pocket.”

“AND I’M THE ONE WHO’S SUPPOSED TO BE LESS SARCASTIC?”

“Sorry. Thinking about my parents gets me worked up.” Jules clenched her teeth.

“NOW I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT BLOOD TESTS AND PETRI DISHES.”

When I closed my eyes, I could see Ben and me making out, wearing latex gloves and surgical masks. Oddly enough, still hot.

“Forget that last part. You’re not going to do any more than a little French kissing at most, so I think you’re safe. Really.”

One minute after noon on Saturday the doorbell rang. Charlotte answered; she had posted herself steps away from the front door. Was she afraid Ben would change his mind and flee? He was definitely prompt—that was a good sign. From my room, I could hear Ben chatting with my aunt and uncle. All perfectly normal, except this was the first time a boy had ever come to pick me up. Standing in front of my mirror, I gave myself a silent lecture.
This isn’t any different from all the other times you’ve hung out with him. He must like you if he’s taking you to the City for the whole day. Jules said so, and she knows. Calm down. Your palms are getting sweaty
. I took one last look in the mirror
. He must be into freaks, because you’re no beauty
.
Shut up. I’m not saying anything you don’t already know about yourself. Not now
. Was I turning into a split personality, on top of everything else?

“Sasha, Ben’s here.”

Charlotte could barely contain her excitement about my first foray into the world of normal teenagers. In a way, her enthusiasm made sense. When my parents died, she became responsible for a thirteen-year-old head case. Going out on a real date, with a real boy, was so wonderfully healthy, and like me, Charlotte probably hadn’t believed it would ever happen.

Ben gave me the once-over. “You look so pretty in real clothes.”

I nodded and curtsied.
Fuck you, mister
.

“That’s what I always tell her. Ben, maybe you’ll be the one to talk Sasha out of her sweats.”

Charlotte, oblivious to her own double entendre, continued chattering away.

“I’d love to try, Mrs. Thompson.” He raised his eyebrows in my direction, biting his lip.

Big talker. Would you like to skip the City and go to a motel? I’m game
.

“Have a wonderful time. Enjoy Manhattan. You must be special, Ben, because she never wants to go to the City with us. Sasha, don’t forget your talkie box.”

Dutifully, I picked it up off the table; not that I needed it. I kissed Charlotte, and Ben took my hand.

When we were safely in the car, Ben turned to me. “Your aunt does have a way with a phrase, and you’re the one who’s a big talker. What do you know about motels anyway?”

In the movies, that’s where people go to have sex during the
day
.

“Ah, sounds romantic. Maybe next weekend. I already have today all planned. Or we can do the motel thing on the way home, if you’re still in the mood.” He kissed me, his tongue tickling mine, his hands in my hair.

That feels so good it hurts
. He was kissing my lips, but I could feel it deep inside me. I was aware of every nerve in my body firing in rapid succession, my blood rushing through my veins.

He lifted his head and looked past me. “Your aunt and uncle are watching us.”

Both of them? That’s embarrassing
. I put my hands over my face.

“No, it’s not. Charlotte thinks it’s wonderful that you’ve found a boy who appreciates how beautiful and special you are. That’s a direct quote.”

That’s gross
.

“She’s thinking she’d better have the talk with you, as soon as you get home, based on the way I’m kissing you.”

That’s even worse
. Charlotte’s version of the birds and the bees would likely involve an elaborate explanation of how flowers pollinate.

“Your mother never explained the facts of life to you?” There was a note of surprise, and maybe a little worry, in his voice.

You mean the stork? Yeah, I know all about that
.

“Very funny.” He tilted his head. “You do know where babies come from, don’t you?”

Are you trying to tell me there’s no stork? Then it’s definitely the cabbage patch
. Did I come off as such an innocent? Did that mean I was a bad kisser?

“Ha ha. It’s just that your history is a little unusual, so you could’ve missed a few things.” He started the car, the tires crunching over the gravel driveway, and waved at Charlotte and Stuart, who ducked out of sight. “Don’t be so insecure. I wouldn’t be kissing you if I didn’t like it.”

I had a big sister, and I have Jules, so I’m not totally clueless
.

An hour later, as we walked through Times Square, I held onto Ben for dear life. New York City was noisy and crowded and overwhelming. But it felt good to be buffeted by the people, to hear Ben shouting at me over the din of the cars and the thousands of voices all babbling at once. I felt alive and excited to find out what was going to happen next. We crossed the street and stopped in front of a theater. The marquee said
A Chorus Line
.

“Charlotte told me that this was your favorite show, that you’ve seen it three times. Do you remember?” Ben was watching me carefully, as if looking for some flicker of recognition in my eyes.

I shook my head.
Nothing
. Did I even like musicals? Inside the theater we settled in our seats—sixth row orchestra. Ben handed me my ticket. “A souvenir.” The price on the ticket was $161.

These tickets are too expensive. You shouldn’t be spending so much money on me
. Jules had said theater tickets were pricey, but this was ridiculous. Upside: anyone who spent that much money had to be expecting something in return.

“Why not? I think you’re worth it.”

But a hundred and sixty-one dollars?

“Don’t worry. I have plenty of money. I worked all last summer. My parents have made some wise investments over the years and published a few books. No one is going without shoes so we can come to the theater.” He draped his arm over my shoulder. Even through my sweater, my skin tingled.

But even so, I feel funny. Jules said …

“What did the wise Jules have to say?”

Ben didn’t know Jules beyond calculus class, and I was a little worried they wouldn’t hit it off if they tried to get to know one another. Each seemed suspicious of the other, as if each were an interloper in the territory that was me. If I wanted them to be friends, I needed to be careful about how I portrayed her to him. But when someone is reading your every thought, diplomacy goes out the window.

She said that boys expect something in return when they spend money on a girl, and you’re spending a ton of money on me
. I wished I hadn’t gone down this road, but there was no way I could keep any secrets from Ben anyway. Was he on his way to hating my best friend?
And she said I should never do anything out of obligation
.

“Wise words from your guru. Jules isn’t wrong. Most boys look at a date as the first half of an exchange. He buys dinner, and she’s dessert.” So maybe we
would
be stopping off at a motel on the way home. “But I’m not like that … and I know that disappoints you a little bit, doesn’t it?”

Stop showing off. I already know you know what I’m thinking
.