Mina lifted her head, sniffling. “It’s definitely overrated.” She straightened upright at the weird smile on Jacinta’s face. “What?”
Jacinta shrugged. “Nothing.”
“No, it’s something. You’ve got that smirk you get when you’re trying and about to fail at not saying what’s on your mind.” Mina snickered. Jacinta didn’t hold back on her thoughts very often. But when she tried, the look was always the same.
“I just think if we talk about this again in a few days, weeks, or whatever, you’re gonna be saying something different,” Jacinta said.
Mina frowned, but before she could say anything, Jacinta continued, “First times suck. I’ll just say that. But second or fourth times?” She shrugged, a knowing smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
Mina started to object. But a sliver of doubt plucked her heart.
Declaring there would be no second time was about as sincere as someone shouting, “it wasn’t me,” when they were caught red-handed. Already, thoughts of lying beside Brian warmed her in the chilly breeze. Who was she fooling to say it would never happen again?
She squinted up at Jacinta. “So I’m guessing it’s too late to make that pact with Lizzie and Kelly?”
Jacinta chuckled, knocking shoulders with her. “I’m thinking, yeah.”
Competition
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?”
—PussyCat Dolls ft. Busta Rhymes, “Don’t Cha”
The next morning, Lizzie waited for Mina amidst the usual muted morning cacophony echoing throughout the corridor—a mix of excitement to be back among one another for the school year’s last few weeks and disgust at having to put up with classes simply to get a social fix.
Traffic built around Lizzie in pockets, then buzzed by, making room for the next shift. Poised patiently against Mina’s locker in a yellow vintage Gotta Have My Pops! tee shirt, she blended in with the bright dandelion-colored locker bay. Every few seconds, her back vibrated as lockers jangled open and clattered shut with students going about their morning.
Angling her shoulder so Mina’s neighbor could maneuver, Lizzie glanced down the crowded hallway, hoping to catch Mina rushing through. She wanted to put in a quick plug for the pact and get Mina’s final answer.
Plug for the pact. It sounded like a commercial pleading for a cause.
Don’t forget to wear your plug for the pact. Show your support today.
In a way, it was a cause. And Lizzie was definitely campaigning for Mina’s support. An idea took hold, making her chuckle to herself.
She should get ribbons made up. Red for AIDS, pink for breast cancer…and white for virgins. White made the most sense, of course, because it stood for purity. So she, Mina, and Kelly could wear tiny white ribbons. No one would have to know what they meant. It would be another one of their inside jokes.
Or we could tell people, and soon, all the virgins will want one, Lizzie thought, snickering quietly. She dodged to the side, barely missing getting clipped by a locker closing, and backed into Todd.
“Don’t tell me you’re laughing at another guy’s jokes. You’ll break my heart.” He laid his arm around her shoulder, hugging Lizzie to him. She was squeezed gently against his stomach. “So what’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just having an imaginary conversation with myself,” Lizzie said.
Todd leaned down and planted a kiss on Lizzie’s lips. Her face warmed at the affection. She still wasn’t quite used to public affection. But Todd, either unaware or (most likely) unaffected by the attention a few passing girls paid to them, straightened up, his arm still firmly around Lizzie’s shoulder, and kept talking. “I have conversations with myself all the time. As a matter-of-fact, I had a good convo last night when my girlfriend blew me off to study. I said, Todd.” Todd’s face was a cartoon as he conversed with himself. “And I said, What’s up, dude? And I’m like, dude, she blew you off for homework. You’re losing your touch. I was all, Du-u-u-ude, it’s no big. And then…”
Laughing, Lizzie put her hand up to stop him. “Okay, okay. Let me guess…dating etiquette says I should apologize for leaving you hanging last night?”
Todd touched one finger to his nose and pointed another at Lizzie, smiling.
“Sorry. I’m worried about my AP Lit final.” Lizzie shrugged in apology. “I really had to study.”
What she didn’t share was how badly she’d wanted to ditch studying to talk to him. She’d been tempted, very tempted. Todd had no idea just how much he filled her thoughts. At least, she didn’t think he knew, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was bad enough she was already one of those girls who grinned like an idiot whenever she was around him.
Todd’s eyes rolled in exasperation. “Lizzie, you’re a straight A Alice. Seriously, dude, you should be teaching the Lit class.” He began walking, nudging Lizzie along with him. She glanced back, checking for signs of Mina. Seeing none, she let herself be guided off.
I’ll catch her later, Lizzie thought, enjoying being in the crook of Todd’s arms. She felt the soft, downy hair on his arm against her neck, tickling, and stifled a giggle.
Every other person they passed said hello to Todd, dapping him up with pounds and hand shakes, exchanging quick inside jokes or weak one-liners. He acknowledged them all without missing a beat with Lizzie. “I’m just saying, the Bay Dra-da season is over, and I thought maybe…” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You might make a little more Toddie time.”
They stopped in front of her AP Lit class, side by side, her still tucked under his wing.
Lizzie looked up into Todd’s blue eyes, bright with mischievous humor. Her face burned under his intensely amused attention. But her chest filled with a warm happiness at the thought of spending more time with him before he left for Cali to visit his brother for a few weeks and before summer theatre kicked into high gear.
Respecting Lizzie’s aversion to being called out by a teacher for hallway PDA, Todd ducked in for another quick, yet teasingly lingering kiss.
The soft memory of his kiss tingled Lizzie’s lips, and she merely nodded in agreement as a long, leggy brunette with thick, curly hair stopped in front of them. Lizzie recognized her as a junior on the volleyball team. The girl’s legs, tawny, tan, and athletic, went on for days in an ultra miniskirt. She was nearly Todd’s height. They towered above Lizzie.
She gave Lizzie a quick, perfunctory hello before launching into a lengthy and animated discussion with Todd. Her polite ig took Lizzie by surprise, but only for a second. There were a few things that came with being Todd’s girlfriend that she still wrestled with:
1) The Hallway PDA, though admittedly she’d grown to like that more than she’d ever admit.
2) Being half of a “popular” couple.
3) Being ignored by girls who assaulted Todd with their silly, pointless banter as if they were on some hidden camera date show and gaining points for being the girl who laughed the hardest and loudest at Todd’s barrage of corny jokes.
Lizzie wasn’t sure which grated on her more—the being a popular couple thing or getting the ig from girls like Miss Teen Volleyball.
As much as she hated it, she was almost used to the ig. It happened all the time. After getting the ig from some girl, Lizzie always had to inform Todd that the girls were totally flirting with him. She never brought it up in a jealous way, just as an observation. Todd always joked it off.
“I never believe my own hype, Liz-O,” he’d say with that infectiously devilish grin.
It was that “Aw, who me, popular?” way about