Confessions of a Not It Girl (23 page)

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said she and your dad thought it was important for you to have your freedom and they just hoped you would make smart decisions." He had been looking past my shoulder when he said that, but now he looked at me. "That doesn't exactly sound like someone who won't let her daughter go out on dates."

"No, it doesn't," I said, trying to smile at him.

"No, it doesn't," he repeated, not smiling.

We stood there for a minute. "So?" he said.

"So...what?" I asked.

"So why did you lie to Tom?"

"I didn't want to go out with Tom," I said, meeting his look.

He took another step up. "That's what I figured," he said. "But then why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie to you," I said. "I just let you believe something that wasn't exactly true." My heart was beating so hard I expected Josh's next question to be,
What's that drumming sound?

"And you did that because ..." He was only a few steps away from me now. I had to admit Rebecca was right. Guys
do
look adorable in tuxedos.

"Why do you care, Josh? If you're still trying to fix me up with Henry, you should probably know that he has a girlfriend." I expected Josh to get all flustered, but he just kept staring at me.

"I know that
now,"
he said, sarcastically. "And I never wanted to fix you up with Henry."

"Wow, Josh," I said, equally sarcastically. "That's
so
strange. Because just a few days ago,
someone
practically

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begged me to come over to your house and hook up with Henry. Isn't that
weird?
I mean, isn't that just the weirdest thing?"

"I thought you liked Henry, but you were embarrassed to tell me." He was practically shouting.

"Where would you
possibly
get that idea?" I was almost shouting now, too.

"It doesn't matter," said Josh. His cheeks were suddenly flushed.

"No," I said, crossing my arms. "I think it does matter, actually."

We stared at each other.

"Leslie," he muttered finally.

"Leslie?"

For the first time that night Josh seemed genuinely uncomfortable. "She said you probably
didn't
like Tom and that's why you lied to him, but you probably
did
like Henry, only you were embarrassed to admit it to me," he mumbled. "She said girls do stuff like that, and I owed it to you to help you two get together."

"She said that?"

"Yeah."

"And you believed her?" He didn't say anything.

"Well, fine," I said. "You did what your girlfriend said you
owed
me. I really appreciate it. You're a prince. Happy New Year. Good night." I turned to go upstairs.

"She's not my girlfriend."

I didn't turn around. "What?"

"She's not my girlfriend. She wasn't ever really, you

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know, my girlfriend. But now she's not even, you know, kind of my girlfriend."

I turned around. I expected to find Josh staring at his feet, but he was looking right at me.

"Why have you been acting so weird around me lately?" I asked.

"Did you lie to me so I wouldn't ask you out?"

My stomach dropped.

"Excuse me?"

Josh started counting off on his fingers. "When I told you Henry liked you, you said your love life was none of my business. Then you said all that stuff in English about knowing right away whether or not you have chemistry with someone. And then you let me think you weren't allowed to go out with guys. Was that all so I wouldn't ask you to go out with me?"

He was one step below me, and our eyes were level.

"I said my love life was none of your business because I thought you wanted
Henry
to be in my love life. I said you can tell right away if you have chemistry with someone because I knew right away I didn't have any chemistry with
Henry.
I let you think I wasn't allowed to go out with guys because I thought you wanted me to go out with
Henry.'"

Josh leaned in close to me.
"I
wanted to be in your love life. I wanted to know if you thought
we
had chemistry. I wanted
us
to go out."

"Oh," I said.

Downstairs, someone had turned the music off, and all the guests were counting down the last seconds of the

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year. "Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one...Happy New Year!"

We stood there as someone flicked the lights on and off, and I waited for Josh to kiss me. I was completely prepared. I knew he would put his arms around me and lean in and then slowly, slowly, tantalizingly slowly, our lips would finally meet. It was
Romeo and Juliet
all over again, only this time with a happy ending. Romeo doesn't drink the poison. He leans down to kiss Juliet just as she opens her eyes. They embrace! Tragedy is averted! Everyone lives happily after.

But Josh didn't move. I couldn't believe it. After all that, the night was going to end with the two of us one step apart just staring at each other.

And then, before I could think about it for too long, I leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't the least bit slow. Or tantalizing. In fact, it was kind of abrupt. One second we were standing there, the next my lips were planted on his.

At first I thought Josh might be more shocked than glad, but then he was kissing me back and I wasn't thinking anything at all except maybe that those Fire Island books had been telling the truth after all. His lips were soft, and he tasted like Trident blue, which just happens to be my favorite kind of gum.

Maybe it wasn't exactly Shakespeare.

But it was good enough for me.

CURTAIN

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Acknowledgments

For generosity above and beyond the call, whether of duty, family, or friendship, I am indebted to Neal Gantcher, Angela Nosari, Helen Perelman, Elizabeth Rudnick, and the Saint Ann's community--especially Stanley Bosworth and Ruth Chapman.

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Melissa Kantor
is a teacher in Brooklyn, New York, where she lives with her husband, the poet Benjamin Gantcher. This is her first book.

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