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But the truth is, I just can’t look at him and see the tall, muscular godlike figure he is today. I just can’t. I CAN’T! He’s like…I don’t know. My brother, or something.
Tina, of course, completely mistook my revulsion for something else.
“Don’t worry, Mia,” she said, taking my hand and gazing worriedly into my eyes. “We’re totally safe. You know neither of us has ever been with anybody else. And I’ve been on the Pill since I was fourteen, because of my dysmenorrhea.”
I blinked at her some more. Oh, right. Tina’s dysmenorrhea. She used to get out of P.E. because of it every month. Lucky duck.
Tina looked at me uncertainly. “So…you don’t think I’m a slut for not waiting until the prom?”
My mouth fell open. “What? No! Of course not! Tina!”
“Well.” Tina winced. “I just…I wasn’t sure. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about it. I mean, we had our plan for prom night, and I…I ruined it because I couldn’t wait.” Then she brightened. “But then, when you said you thought prom was lame, and J.P. didn’t ask you—and then when I read your book—well, I just put it all together and thought you must have had sex already, too! Only now that you and Michael—”
I looked around the penguin enclosure quickly. There were people everywhere! Most of whom were five years old! And screaming about penguins! And we were having this totally intimate conversation! About sex!
“Now that Michael and me what?” I interrupted. “There’s no Michael and me, Tina. I told you, I just spilled hot chocolate on him. That’s all!”
“But you smelled him,” Tina said, looking concerned.
“Yeah, I smelled him,” I said. “But that’s it!”
“But you said he smelled better than J.P.” Tina still looked concerned.
“Yeah,” I said, starting to feel panicky. Suddenly, the penguin exhibit was making me feel a little claustrophobic. There were way too many people in there. Plus, the echoing shrieks of all the sticky-fingered kids—not to mention the faint odor of penguin—was getting a little overwhelming. “But that doesn’t mean anything! It’s not like we’re getting back together, or anything. We’re just friends.”
“Mia.” Tina looked stern. “I read your book, remember?”
“My book?” I could feel myself getting hot, even though it was super air-conditioned in the penguin house. “What does my book have to do with anything?”
“A handsome knight who’s been away from home for a long, long time returns?” Tina said meaningfully. “Weren’t you writing about Michael?”
“No!” I insisted. Oh my God! Was everyone who read it going to think this? Was J.P. going to think it? Was Michael? OH, NO! HE WAS READING IT RIGHT NOW!!!! Maybe he was reading it WITH MICROMINI MIDORI! AND LAUGHING ABOUT IT!
“What about the girl who felt obligated to care for her people?” Tina went on. “Weren’t you really writing about yourself? And the people were the Genovians?”
“No!” I cried, my voice cracking. Some of the parents, holding the smaller kids up to see the penguins, looked over to see what the two teenaged girls in the dark corner were talking about.
If only they knew the truth. They’d probably have run screaming from the zoo. They might even have asked the wardens to shoot us.
“Oh.” Tina looked let down. “Well…it seemed like it. It seemed like…you were writing about you and Michael getting back together.”
“Tina, I wasn’t,” I said. My chest was starting to feel tight. “I swear.”
“So…” Tina looked at me intently in the blue glow from the penguin tank. “What are you going to do about J.P.? I mean…you two are having sex? Aren’t you?”
I don’t know how what happened next happened—what heavenly miracle occurred to save me—but at that very moment Mamaw and Papaw showed up with Rocky in tow, screaming my name. I mean, Rocky was screaming my name. Not Mamaw and Papaw.
Then the zoo was closing, so we all had to leave. Which pretty much closed the discussion on Tina’s sex life. And mine. Thank GOD.
So now I’m here at Applebee’s.
And I don’t think I will ever be the same. Because Tina just confessed that she and Boris have been having sex regularly.
I should have known. They have been showing little to no public displays of affection at school all year—no kissing, no holding hands in the hallway, nothing like this—which should have been an indication to me that something serious was going on.
Such as major play under the sheets after school when Mr. and Mrs. Pelkowski weren’t home.
God! I’m so blind!
