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I’ve always known it, of course, and if it hadn’t been for, you know, the dance, I would have done it long before now.
But it is clear now that I cannot afford to wait until after the dance. I should have done it last night when he called, but you can’t really do something like that over the phone. Well, I mean, a girl like Lana Weinberger probably could, but not me.
No, I don’t think I can put it off another day: I have got to break up with Kenny. I simply cannot continue living this lie.
Fortunately, I do have the support of at least one person in this plan: Tina Hakim Baba.
I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t plan on telling anybody. But it all sort of slipped out today in the girls’ room between second and third periods while Tina was putting on her eye makeup. Her dad won’t let her wear makeup, you see, so Tina has to wait until she gets to school to put it on. She has a deal with her bodyguard, Wahim. Tina won’t tell her parents how much Wahim flirts with Mademoiselle Klein, our French teacher, if Wahim doesn’t tell Mr. and Mrs. Hakim Baba about Tina’s Maybelline addiction.
Anyway, all of a sudden I just couldn’t take it anymore, and I ended up telling Tina what Kenny said last night on the phone—
And a lot more than that actually.
But first the part about Kenny’s phone call:
Unlike Lilly, Tina believed me.
But Tina also had the totally wrong reaction. She thought it was great.
“Oh, my God, Mia, you are so lucky,” she kept saying. “I wish Dave would tell me he loves me! I mean, I know he is fully committed to our relationship, but his idea of romance is paying to have my fries super-sized at Mickey D’s.”
This was so not the kind of support I was looking for.
“But, Tina,” I said. I felt Tina, with her extensive reading of romances, would understand. “The thing is, I don’t love him.”
Tina widened her mascaraed eyes at me. “You don’t?”
“No,” I said, miserably. “I mean, I really like him, as a friend. But I’m not in love, or anything. Not with him.”
“Oh, God,” Tina said, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
We only had a few minutes before the bell rang. We both had to get to class.
And yet, for some reason, I chose this moment to make my big confession. I don’t know why. Maybe since I’d already spilled it to my dad, it didn’t seem too hard to tell someone else, especially Tina. Also, I can’t stop thinking about what my dad said. You know, about showing the guy I like how I feel. Tina, I felt, was the only person I knew who would know how to help me do that.
So I went, “Yes.”
Tina nearly spilled her cosmetics bag, she was so excited.
“I knew it!” she yelled. “I knew there was a reason you wouldn’t let him kiss you!”
My jaw dropped. “You know about that, too?”
“Well.” Tina shrugged. “Kenny told Dave, who told me.”
Jeez! What’s that Oprah always complaining about, about how men aren’t in touch with their emotions, and don’t share enough? It sounds to me like Kenny’s been doing enough sharing recently to make up for several centuries’ worth of masculine reticence.
“So who is he?” Tina asked, all eager as she packed up her eyelash curler and lipliner. “The guy you like?”
I went, “It doesn’t matter. Besides, the whole thing is completely futile. He sort of has a girlfriend. I think.”
Tina whipped her head around to look at me, making her thick, black braid smack her in her own face, which is chubby, but in a good way.
“It’s Michael, isn’t it?” she demanded, grabbing my arm again. She was holding on so tight it hurt.
My instinct, of course, was to deny it. In fact, I even opened my mouth, all set to have the word No come out of it.
But then I was like, Why? Why should I deny it to Tina? Tina wouldn’t tell anyone. And Tina might be able to help me.
