Olivia to give me the morning reports so that I wouldn’t feel left out.
Veronica had to know that left out was the first thing I’d feel. I’d known my stepmother for my entire life, and I still didn’t understand her.
Anyway, the more left out I felt, the more fixated I became on Raymond and what was inside his lunch box. A few weeks into my secret, silent crush on Raymond, he yelled, “Would you quit looking at me already? If you want a potato chip, just ask. God! ”
My first humiliation. Everyone had laughed at me. Except Olivia. I remembered that.
“I heard he pees in his bed,” she’d whispered to me.
And just like that, my crush was gone. If only adult crushes were that easy to snap out of.
I sat down at my computer and started a Word file: Abby Foote’s List of Romantic Involvements. I couldn’t call it a boyfriend list, since I couldn’t call many of the guys I’d dated boyfriends. I added Raymond’s name, then Kindergarten. Got over him when I heard he was a bed wetter.
Stephen Fingerman. First grade. First boy to have a crush on me. Did disgusting boy things, like stretch out his eyes and eat bugs. I fell hard. Ignored me when new girl from Russia joined our class. Last I heard, Stephen was preparing paperwork to marry a Russian mail-order bride.
Dylan Gold. First boyfriend of early teen life. Broke up with me in the cafeteria of my school, right in front of Olivia. He sidled up next to us, squeezed his tray between ours and said to me, “I can’t go out with you anymore because I like your friend. There, I said it, okay.”
My heart dropped. So did the cellophane-wrapped tuna sandwich I’d just taken from the rack. He liked Jolie? She was really my only friend at this school besides Olivia, who really wasn’t my friend then.
“So will you find out if she likes me?” Dylan asked, his gorgeous blue eyes suddenly puppy-dog hopeful.
“Are you on some kind of drug?” Olivia said to him. “Ask her yourself.”
Dylan added onion rings and French fries to his tray. “I would, but I don’t know where she goes to school or where she lives or what her name is.”
Huh? “Which friend are you talking about?” I asked.
“The tall blonde with the hot boots with all the laces,” he said. “I saw you guys at the mall last weekend and I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open. “You’re talking about my sister, Opal. And she’s twelve. ”
Dylan turned red. “Oh. Well, she doesn’t look it.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “She stuffs, okay?”
He eyed my chest, then Olivia’s, then shrugged and headed on down the line.
“That was your boyfriend?” Olivia said. “Nice guy.”
“We were only going out for a few days,” I said, then half lied about a stomachache.
Transferred later that year to private school, I added to the brief version I wrote for Ben. For all I knew, Dylan and Ben were best friends from Little League or something.
Marco Cantinelli. Dated for one month in college. Lost my virginity to him my freshman year. So did my roommate. And our entire floor.
Jonathan Alterman. Dated for one year when I was a college junior. The pig latin king. Last I heard, was living on kibbutz in Israel.
Slade. Just Slade. First boyfriend postcollege. He didn’t talk much. Would not kiss on the lips, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I dated him for one month anyway and loved every minute of it. Told me he was moving to Alaska to fish, but I saw him in various Portland hot spots for years afterward.
Charlie Heath. Dated for six months, two years ago. Broke up after he injured my aunt during bouquet toss at my sister Olivia’s wedding. Did not respond to letter from my aunt Annette containing bill for the deductible portion of her E.R. bill. Never saw him again.
Tom Greer. Dated for four months until December of the year before last. He broke up with me via e-mail at work. I can’t make it to your company Christmas party
Veronica had to know that left out was the first thing I’d feel. I’d known my stepmother for my entire life, and I still didn’t understand her.
Anyway, the more left out I felt, the more fixated I became on Raymond and what was inside his lunch box. A few weeks into my secret, silent crush on Raymond, he yelled, “Would you quit looking at me already? If you want a potato chip, just ask. God! ”
My first humiliation. Everyone had laughed at me. Except Olivia. I remembered that.
“I heard he pees in his bed,” she’d whispered to me.
And just like that, my crush was gone. If only adult crushes were that easy to snap out of.
I sat down at my computer and started a Word file: Abby Foote’s List of Romantic Involvements. I couldn’t call it a boyfriend list, since I couldn’t call many of the guys I’d dated boyfriends. I added Raymond’s name, then Kindergarten. Got over him when I heard he was a bed wetter.
Stephen Fingerman. First grade. First boy to have a crush on me. Did disgusting boy things, like stretch out his eyes and eat bugs. I fell hard. Ignored me when new girl from Russia joined our class. Last I heard, Stephen was preparing paperwork to marry a Russian mail-order bride.
Dylan Gold. First boyfriend of early teen life. Broke up with me in the cafeteria of my school, right in front of Olivia. He sidled up next to us, squeezed his tray between ours and said to me, “I can’t go out with you anymore because I like your friend. There, I said it, okay.”
My heart dropped. So did the cellophane-wrapped tuna sandwich I’d just taken from the rack. He liked Jolie? She was really my only friend at this school besides Olivia, who really wasn’t my friend then.
“So will you find out if she likes me?” Dylan asked, his gorgeous blue eyes suddenly puppy-dog hopeful.
“Are you on some kind of drug?” Olivia said to him. “Ask her yourself.”
Dylan added onion rings and French fries to his tray. “I would, but I don’t know where she goes to school or where she lives or what her name is.”
Huh? “Which friend are you talking about?” I asked.
“The tall blonde with the hot boots with all the laces,” he said. “I saw you guys at the mall last weekend and I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open. “You’re talking about my sister, Opal. And she’s twelve. ”
Dylan turned red. “Oh. Well, she doesn’t look it.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “She stuffs, okay?”
He eyed my chest, then Olivia’s, then shrugged and headed on down the line.
“That was your boyfriend?” Olivia said. “Nice guy.”
“We were only going out for a few days,” I said, then half lied about a stomachache.
Transferred later that year to private school, I added to the brief version I wrote for Ben. For all I knew, Dylan and Ben were best friends from Little League or something.
Marco Cantinelli. Dated for one month in college. Lost my virginity to him my freshman year. So did my roommate. And our entire floor.
Jonathan Alterman. Dated for one year when I was a college junior. The pig latin king. Last I heard, was living on kibbutz in Israel.
Slade. Just Slade. First boyfriend postcollege. He didn’t talk much. Would not kiss on the lips, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I dated him for one month anyway and loved every minute of it. Told me he was moving to Alaska to fish, but I saw him in various Portland hot spots for years afterward.
Charlie Heath. Dated for six months, two years ago. Broke up after he injured my aunt during bouquet toss at my sister Olivia’s wedding. Did not respond to letter from my aunt Annette containing bill for the deductible portion of her E.R. bill. Never saw him again.
Tom Greer. Dated for four months until December of the year before last. He broke up with me via e-mail at work. I can’t make it to your company Christmas party
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