Small Medium at Large (14 page)

“Tongue?” Alex looked sick. “Why would anyone want to use tongue?”

“I don't know. I mean, saliva?
Ew.
Germs.” Apparently, I was a bit of a germophobe like my dad.

“Yeah, saliva's gross. Why do people even bother to French kiss?”

“And why is it called French kissing, anyway?” I wondered aloud.

Alex shrugged. “The French must have invented it, like French fries and French toast.”

It seemed reasonable enough. But still…
ew.

We needed to draw a line. I said, “I think we need to be at least… fourteen before we use tongue. So just kissing, plain old kissing at the dance. That's it.”

“Oy,” said Alex, sounding a lot like my dead grandmother. “How are you so confident? Aren't you scared?”

“Scared” wasn't the right word. “Terrified” was more like it.

When we came downstairs, Dad was sitting on the sofa looking all handsome. His hair was brushed and lying flat and his (new) outfit looked very stylish. As I got into the room, I even noticed he smelled good.

“Wow, you look nice,” I said.

He looked at me funny. No, he wasn't just
looking
at me funny, he was totally staring.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You have makeup on. And a dress. You look so… grown up.”

I couldn't help but smile. “Thanks.”

Although the way Dad was looking, I'm not so sure he meant it as a compliment. He stood up and walked over to me, glancing over at Alex.

“You look nice, Alex. Your hair is very… high.”

Alex beamed. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Bloom. And you smell awesome. You must have a hot date tonight.”

I shot a look at Alex, one that said, “Shut up!” She knew about Dad and Andy's mom going out, but
he
wasn't supposed to know that
we
knew.

Dad blushed a little but didn't say anything. He
looked at me again. “Wow, kid, you look…” His eyes got all glassy.

“Dad, don't get all weird, please.”

He shook his head and pursed his lips. “Sorry.”

Dads can get so sentimental sometimes.

“Oh, I almost forgot…” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “I got you a new phone.”

Of course, I hadn't had a phone since the lightning did mine in. I took it from him. “Thanks, Dad! Wow, this is a really cool one!”

“With unlimited texting.”

I smiled and then threw my arms around my nerdy but still very cool father. “Thank you so much!”

He grunted when I squeezed him so hard. “Don't wrinkle the shirt, Lilah.”

I let him go. “Sorry.”

“I programmed all the important numbers into it. So if you want to leave the dance early, just call or text me and I'll come get you.”

Like I would ruin his date. “You can just come get us at eight thirty like we talked about, Dad.”

He nodded.

I looked over at Alex. “You ready to go?”

She looked ill, which meant she was. Kinda.

“Oh, Lilah,” Bubby said. “I'd like to go to the dance with you, but your father…”

I couldn't exactly respond to my grandmother
right there in front of my dad, but I was glad she wouldn't be there at the dance, getting up in my business. No one needs their grandmother peeping in on their first romantic experience. I mean, there would be no French kissing, but still…

“Don't worry, Dora,” Prissy said. “I'll go and keep an eye on her.”

“Great, the next best thing,” I said.

“What's that, Lilah?” Dad said as he grabbed his keys.

I blinked as I realized I'd spoken out loud. “Oh, uh, I said I forgot my earrings.”

He frowned. “No, you didn't.”

My right hand rose to my earlobe. “Oh, whoops. Duh.”

Dad grinned. “You must be a little nervous about your first dance.”

He was right about me being nervous. But it wasn't dancing I was nervous about.

We walked into the gym right at seven. Most of the other seventh graders were already there. The girls were all on the one side of the gym huddled together and the boys were all up on the bleachers, not surprisingly, watching the girls. There were a few teachers scattered around. Most were talking, but Mr. Robertson was standing in the corner, rocking to the music. I wondered if he'd gotten his band back together yet.

“There's everyone,” Alex said, grabbing my arm and leading me over to where Fiona, Tamsin, and Anita were standing. Sherise's family was out of town, so she couldn't make it to the dance. She'd been really bummed about missing it, especially when she found out Alex and I had dates, but we promised to fill her in on Monday.

“Hi,” Tamsin said as we joined them.

“Sean and Andrew are up on the bleachers,” Fiona said.

“Thanks,” I said without turning. Leave it to a friend to scope out your guy before you arrive.

“You going to dance with him?” Fiona asked me.

I nodded.

She asked Alex the same question.

She also nodded.

“What about you?” Alex asked Fiona. “Are you going to dance with someone?”

Fiona scanned the crowd on the bleachers. “I don't know. Maybe Sam.”

“Sam?” I asked. “Sam Alpers?”

All of us looked over at Sam to size him up. It was at that moment that Sam decided to not-so-covertly stick his finger up his nose.

“EWWWW!”
we all said.

“Okay,” Fiona said. “So Sam's out.”

“Too bad the eighth graders aren't here,” Tamsin said, obviously sad that Tyler wasn't there to dance with (not that she had a chance with him, but I wasn't about to tell her that). That's what you get for crushing on someone outside your grade, but I still felt bad for her. And after watching Sam, I understood the appeal of more mature eighth-grade boys.

“Hi, Lilah,” a boy said from behind me.

I turned to face Andy. My heart jumped into my throat.

“Oh, hi, Andy.”

He was smiling, but he didn't look really happy. Maybe he was as nervous as I felt.

“Want to dance?” he asked. A squeal erupted from behind me. I tried to ignore it.

I glanced over to the middle of the gym that was supposed to be the dance floor. Even though a really good fast song was playing, there were exactly zero people dancing.

“Are you sure?” I asked him.

He looked over his shoulder at the dance floor and then back at me. His face got all red. “Sure, why not.”

I swallowed and fought the urge to look over at my friends. “Okay.”

“Let's
all
dance,” Alex said from behind me.

I exhaled in relief, knowing the girls would help take the pressure off me and Andy.

We got to the middle of the gym and Andy turned to face me. I felt a bit dizzy but tried my best not to pass out from nerves.

I mean, sure, I'd danced with my friends tons of times, but with a boy? In front of the whole seventh-grade class?

“You'll do fine,” Prissy said, obviously picking up on my nerves.

“Thanks,” I said.

“For what?” Andy asked.

“Uh… for asking me to dance.” I started dancing, finding my rhythm—the song had a good beat, so it was easy.

Andy smiled. Then he started moving his feet in what I guess was supposed to be dancing. He wasn't very good, just moving his feet from side to side and not moving his arms at all.

I caught Alex's attention and gave her a look. She glanced over at Andy and shrugged. Then she puckered up her lips.

I almost died right there on the dance floor.

Horrified, I returned my attention to Andy.

“You're a good dancer,” he said. “I guess I don't have very good rhythm.”

“You're doing great,” I said. Even though it was kind of a lie.

“He gets it from me,” Mr. Finkel said suddenly. “I was never a good dancer either.”

“Oh.”

“What?” Andy asked.

“Um, your father says hi.”

He blushed. “My dad's here?”

I nodded and wondered if his dad being here would eliminate the chance of us kissing. Probably.

I must say, I was kind of relieved.

But then, just as I was starting to enjoy myself, the song ended. Not the end of the world, right? There would be more songs.

But the next song that came on was a slow song. The kind that
couples
dance to. I looked over at Alex who gave me a very conspicuous thumbs-up.

“Do you want to keep dancing?” Andy asked, his voice cracking on the “keep.”

I looked at him to gauge if he
wanted
to keep dancing. He looked like maybe he did. I nodded.

He put his hands on my waist, which felt strange.

I put my arms around his neck. Also strange. As we got closer, I noticed he smelled nice, like soap and fabric softener. “You smell good,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said. “You do, too.”

Weird.

And then we were slow dancing, going around in circles on the dance floor. I pretended not to notice when he stepped on my foot, but then he mumbled a “sorry,” so I had to tell him it was okay.

On the second turn around the gym, I noticed Alex dancing with Sean. I gave her a thumbs-up behind Andy's back. She smiled and seemed to pull Sean even closer to her.

I wondered if she was still nervous about kissing him. She sure didn't seem to be. If anything,
he
looked nervous and was dancing like he was tied to a board.

Another quarter turn had me facing Fiona who was (
gasp!
) dancing with digging-for-gold Sam. Well, she was moving to the music with her wrists on his shoulders, seeming to keep him as far away as possible.

Tamsin and Anita watched in horror from the sidelines.

I felt pretty lucky. I had my choice of guy who really seemed to like me. He was not a nose picker AND he smelled nice.

“I'm having a nice time,” I said.

Andy leaned back so he could look at me. He smiled. “Me, too.”

The way he was staring into my eyes kind of freaked me out. Time for a subject change. “So what do you think of my dad and your mom?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Oh.

“They're out on a date right now.”

He frowned. “With each other?”

Boys can be so clueless sometimes. “Yes, with each other. They sat together at the fashion show last night.”

“That was your dad?” He seemed shocked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

I got suddenly defensive. “What does that mean?”

The song ended and a fast one came on again. I didn't really feel like dancing, not while we were trying to have a conversation, anyway.

“Want to get a soda?” I asked.

Andy nodded, so we headed over to where Mr. Burrows was selling sodas from a cooler full of ice. “I'll buy yours,” he said, pulling some bills out of his pocket.

“Thanks.”

We took our sodas and went to sit on the bleachers, away from the crowds of boys.

“So what did you mean back there,” I said. “About my dad?”

He popped open his soda can and took a long drink. I wondered if it was going to fizz up his nose. I could never have drunk that much without my nose fizzing up.

Finally, he turned to me and said, “It's not that it's your dad, I mean, he seemed pretty nice… it's just…”

“He's worried about me,” Mr. Finkel said.

“You're worried about your dad, aren't you?”

Andy nodded, running his thumb around the lip of his soda can.

“He's okay with it, you know. With your mom dating, I mean.”

He looked up at me, his face all scrunched up. “Really? Did he say that?”

Mr. Finkel jumped in. “I just want her to be happy.”

I repeated it to Andy.

“He's not jealous?”

I opened my mouth to say no, but shut it when Mr. Finkel said, “I wish I could have spent more years with you and your mother, Son. But it wasn't to be. Your mom is lonely and Lilah's father is, too. They both deserve to be happy. I can't make your mom happy anymore.”

I told Andy what his dad said. He looked like he was going to cry, so I asked him if he wanted to go outside to get some air.

He nodded, and we left the gym.

We sat down on the steps, so close that our thighs were touching.

“Thanks, Lilah,” Andy said after a few quiet minutes.

“For what?”

He looked at me. “For everything. For the fund-raiser, for telling me about my dad, for coming to the dance with me.”

“You're welcome.”

And then, before I knew it, Andy was holding my hand.

My brain emptied of all thoughts except
OH
MY GOODNESS, ANDY FINKEL IS HOLDING MY HAND!

And then that was replaced by
OH MY GOODNESS, ANDY FINKEL IS KISSING ME!

I suddenly realized I was staring at his closed eyelids, so I closed my own eyes and leaned a little closer.

Then it was over.

“I like you, Lilah,” he said.

“Obviously. I like you, too, Andy.”

He smiled. “Can I kiss you again?”

I nodded. “No tongue though, okay?”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“I have some rules. No tongue or saliva.”

Even outside in the dusk I could tell his face was getting very red. I mean, it was embarrassing, but a girl has to lay down the law on these things.

“Just a regular kiss. Is that okay?”

“Yes. It's very okay.” I squeezed his hand.

And then he kissed me again. This time, my one thought was,
Kissing is nice. Especially because it's with Andy Finkel.

When the kiss was over, we kept holding hands. It felt nice, his fingers twined in mine.

“Is he a good kisser?” a voice said. It sounded a lot like Ms. Lafontaine.