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CRACKING: Well, at least you told the truth.
FTLOUIE: But all these people are mad at me now! Lilly’s furious!
CRACKING: She’s just jealous because you had more people watching you in that one fifteen-minute segment than all the people who’ve ever watched all of her shows put together.
FTLOUIE: No, that’s not why. She thinks I’ve betrayed our generation, or something, by revealing that cliques exist at Albert Einstein High School.
CRACKING: Well, that, and the fact that you claimed you don’t belong to any of them.
FTLOUIE: Well, I don’t.
CRACKING: Yes, you do. Lilly likes to think you belong to the exclusive and highly selective Lilly Moscovitz clique. Only you neglected to mention this, and that has upset her.
FTLOUIE: Really? Did she say that?
CRACKING: She didn’t say it, but she’s my sister. I know the way she thinks.
FTLOUIE: Maybe. I don’t know, Michael.
CRACKING: Look, are you all right? You were a mess at school today . . . although now it’s clear why. That’s pretty cool about your mom and Mr. Gianini. You must be excited.
FTLOUIE: I guess so. I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing. But at least this time my mom’s getting married, like a normal person.
CRACKING: Now you won’t need my help with your Algebra homework anymore. You’ll have your own personal tutor right there at home.
I had never thought of this. How awful! I don’t want my own personal tutor. I want Michael to keep helping me during G and T! Mr. Gianini is all right, and everything, but he’s certainly not Michael.
I wrote really fast:
FTLOUIE: Well, I don’t know. I mean, he’s going to be awfully busy for a while, moving in, and then there’ll be the baby and everything.
CRACKING: God. A baby. I can’t believe it. No wonder you were wigging out so badly today.
FTLOUIE: Yeah, I really was. Wigging out, I mean.
CRACKING: And what about that thing this afternoon with Lana? That couldn’t have helped much. Though it was pretty funny, her thinking we were going out, huh?
Actually, I didn’t see anything particularly funny about it. But what was I supposed to say? Gee, Michael, why don’t we give it a try?
As if.
Instead I said:
FTLOUIE: Yeah, she’s such a headcase. I guess it’s never occurred to her that two people of the opposite sex can just be friends, with no romantic involvement.
Although I have to admit the way I feel about Michael—particularly when I’m over at Lilly’s and he comes out of his room with no shirt on—is quite romantic.
CRACKING: Yeah. Listen, what are you doing Friday night?
Was he asking me out? Was Michael Moscovitz finally asking me OUT?
No. It wasn’t possible. Not after the way I’d made a fool of myself on national television.
Just to be safe, though, I figured I’d try for a neutral reply, in case what he wanted to know was whether I could come over and walk Pavlov because the Moscovitzes were going to be out of town, or something.
FTLOUIE: I don’t know. Why?
CRACKING: Because it’s Halloween, you know. I thought a bunch of us could get together and go see The Rocky Horror Picture Show over at the Village Cinema. . . .
