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I just wanted to be alone with my girlfriend. Why was that so hard to do?
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I wanted to do something alone together, but with the Chloe crap about to hit the fan I figured it would be a bad idea to piss them off now.”
Not that I had any idea when the Chloe crap was actually going to hit the fan. In the last week she had decided to tell our parents, then bailed on her plan five different times—once while I was in the middle of taking the SAT. I’d gotten a text from her when I’d turned on my phone during a pee break and I hadn’t been able to concentrate for shit after that. Every time I got myself all psyched up to do it, she kept pulling the rug out from under me. But I, of course, hadn’t said anything to her about it because I was a total frickin’ wuss. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I was hoping that the whole thing would just miraculously go away.
“I get it,” Ally said flatly. Her smile had completely died.
Alarm bells went off in my mind. Nice. The one thing I’d promised myself not to mention was the first thing out of my mouth. I was screwing this up royally.
Newsflash: When you’re out on a date with your girlfriend, it’s not a good idea to bring up the chick you impregnated.
“At least they let us get our own table,” I said, feeling like a jackass.
“True.” She tried even harder to smile. “And that salad was yummier than any salad should be. Plus it’s not every day you get to hear a live string quartet, right?”
“Right.” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. As far as I was concerned, if she hadn’t been sitting across from me, the music would have been putting me to sleep.
I had to figure out a way to save this night. Ally looked so pretty in this dark blue dress with teeny straps and her hair back in a ponytail, which always killed me. I wanted to reach over the table and kiss her, but she was giving off about as inviting a vibe as a barbed-wire fence.
Ally’s mother got up to go talk to someone at another table and gave us a wave as she walked by. Suddenly I got an idea. Someone had once told me that if you wanted to land a chick, you should make her talk about herself. Girls love to talk about themselves. I’d already kind of landed Ally, but maybe the tactic would get her to relax.
“So what’s up with your mom’s wedding?” I asked. “Everything cool?”
Ally shrugged. “Yeah. Except I have to make a speech and I have no idea what to say.”
“You have to make a speech?” I said, my eyes wide.
“Maid of honor,” she replied, raising her hand and faking a smile.
“Wow. That sucks.” I took a bite of my food and chewed. “You nervous?”
“I just have no idea what to say,” she told me, leaning closer over the table as her mom returned. She didn’t stop at our table, though. Just went right back to Dr. Nathanson and laid a big kiss on him, like she’d been gone for weeks. “Ugh. I can’t even look when they do that.”
“Yeah. The speech could be a problem, then,” I joked. “You should just keep it simple. Say something about how much you love her and you’re happy to see her happy. You don’t have to get, like, deep and mushy about it.”
“You think?” Ally asked, sitting up straight.
“Dude, I have, like, a million cousins, so I’ve been to a million weddings.” I leaned back as the busboy cleared our salad plates. “The best speeches are always the shortest ones. You ramble on, you lose the audience, and everyone starts to talk over you…. Keep it short and sweet and it’s a win-win.”
“Wow.” Her smile brightened as she reached for her water. “Cool, thanks. That’s good to know.”
Just like that, I felt warm inside. I’d actually given helpful advice. And I’d actually put a smile on her face.
“Okay, I’ve got a plan. We sit here through my dad’s award presentation, then grab one of those chocolate dessert things off the buffet and go eat by the pool,” I suggested, leaning into the table and whispering. “Just you and me for real.”
Her smile widened as she checked out the dessert table. “Okay. Deal.”
The waiter delivered our pasta course and Ally sat up straighter. She even let him shred a whole mess of cheese on top of her pe
“So how’s the play going?” I asked her, figuring I should stick to what was working and make her talk about herself. I waved the waiter and his cheese grater away and concentrated on Ally. “You have a good part?”
Ally nodded. “Yep. It’s even almost as big as Faith’s!” she said with mock enthusiasm.
“Wow! Then it must be good,” I joked back. I tore off a piece of bread from the loaf in the breadbasket and offered her some, which she took. Okay, this was better. This was normal. “I don’t know how you do it, though. I can’t understand Shakespeare to save my life. Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“Most of the time. It’s not one of his most complicated plays,” she said with a shrug. “But the guy I’m supposed to be in love with in the play? Lincoln? He totally gets it. He explains it whenever anyone gets stuck.”
I paused and my stomach sort of thumped the way your heart is supposed to. She had a fake boyfriend in this thing? “Lincoln? Who’s Lincoln?”
Ally dipped the bread into the olive oil on her bread dish. “Lincoln Carter?” she said, narrowing her eyes. “He’s a junior. Kind of tall … red hair?”
“You mean that dude who upchucked at the Woodmont carnival sophomore year?” I asked.
“Um … I don’t know. I wasn’t there,” she replied, popping the bit of bread into her mouth.
“Yeah. That guy. I know that guy,” I said. “He ate, like, twenty cotton candies on a dare then went on the Gravitron.”
“Yeah. That sounds like him,” Ally said with a laugh. For some reason the laugh made my blood stop. It was like a private laugh. Like an admiring laugh or something. Like maybe she liked this guy. Suddenly I felt hot and prickly behind my ears.
“That dude’s a total loser,” I said. “You have to pretend to be in love with him? Good luck.”
Ally put her fork down. “Why’s he a total loser? Because he puked in public?”
“No. It’s not just that. I mean, I just don’t like him,” I said.
She looked confused. “Have you ever actually talked to him?”
“No. But who cares? I can tell if somebody’s a tool without talking to them.” I shoved a huge forkful of pasta in my mouth, feeling like a tool myself. Why was I getting so worked up? It wasn’t like that scrawny freak was a threat. But then again, why was she defending him so much?
“Do you have to, like, kiss him?” I asked. My mouth was so full that some tomato sauce shot out and landed on the white tablecloth.
“Unbelievable,” Ally said, sitting back in her chair. She crossed her arms over her chest. More alarm bells.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin and swallowed. The food felt like a baseball going down my throat. “What?”
“You’re jealous,” she whispered. “You’re jealous and acting like I’m doing something wrong when all I’m doing is playing a part in a play. Meanwhile you got naked with Chloe and now you’re walking around school acting like you two are a couple and I’m just supposed to sit back and be fine with it.”
My neck got hot at the words “naked” and “Chloe.” I tried to focus.
“I don’t act like me and Chloe are a couple!” I hissed back.
“Yes, you do!” Ally said, leaning so far forward that her dress almost took on some tomato sauce. “The other day you two were—”
“Well, hello, Jake!”
Mrs. Corcoran, Co