half-smiles that drove me crazy. “Did you know that you’re trying to change the subject and not answer the question?”
“No, I’m not,” I replied, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers.
He took the pepper shaker from me. Of course, hetook the pepper. It was spicy, just like him. “Red, changing the subject is the only thing I get straight As in—especially when it comes to talking about relationships.”
“Well, like I said, he’s not exactly my boyfriend at the moment. It’s kind of on hold.”
“Oh man, did he push the pause button or something?”
I nodded, stunned. Was this something that
all
guys did?
“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “That’s a tough place to be. How long have you guys been together?”
“Three years.”
“Three years?!” he hooted. “That’s like almost a third of your life!”
“Actually, it’s 18.5 percent of it,” I said. “What’s the longest you’ve been in a relationship?”
He thought about it. “Three months.”
Okay, so he just hadn’t met the right girl yet. And it was impressive that rather than stay in something that wasn’t working, he wasn’t afraid to be alone, which, according to my mom, was the reason most people were in relationships.
“No, wait…it was two months,” he said.
Okay, so he was a free spirit—until now. Until me.
“But because the pause button’s been pushed, technically I’m, you know,
available,
” I said. I was, right? I wasn’t sure on the etiquette of this situation. I’d need to do some research to find out for sure. I pointed to a row ofcomputers. “How much do you think it costs to use one of those?” I wanted to Google, “If your boyfriend has pushed the pause button, is it okay to kiss someone else?”
“They’re free,” he replied. “That’s one of the perks of hangin’ in the Admirals Club.”
It really
was
pretty exclusive. I bet they even had free Tampax in the ladies room.
We moved over to the computers and sat down. It wasn’t like I was
trying
to look at Jack’s computer, but because there was a fat guy who smelled like cabbage at the computer next to me, I found myself leaning toward Jack, and my eyes just
happened
to glance up at his screen after he logged on to his mailbox. And they
happened
to see that he had thirty-three new messages.
“Wow. Have you not checked your e-mail in a few days?” I asked, pointing at the screen.
“No. I checked it before I left this morning,” he replied, clicking on a message that I saw was signed, Lots of luv, Brandi xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo . I tried to read it, but only got through Hey Jack, How r u doin? before he closed it and opened one signed, Miss u TONS, Brianna xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.
“So is it, like, lots of…junk mail…or something?” I asked, with one eye on my screen and the other on his.
“No. Just e-mails from friends and stuff.”
Yeah, “friends” that all happened to be
girls
it seemed, as I snuck another glance at his screen in time to see one signed, Mwah! Kylie xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.
Jack wasn’t technically my boyfriend yet, but just knowing that all these girls with names that ended in vowels had his e-mail address made me feel like I was going to explode. Some people might call the way I was feeling “insane with jealousy,” but I liked to think it just meant I was really passionate. That’s the explanation that Devon gave whenever she started doing things that were a little on the obsessive side, like spending hours doing Internet drive-bys on her boyfriends or using *67 to block her number and call whatever guy she was in love with that month just to hear him say, “Hello? Hello? Hello?!”
I had never felt jealous when I was with Michael. Not once. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe if I felt about Michael the way I felt about Jack at that moment—with my heart beating like I had had four Red Bulls in five minutes—things would have worked out and I’d be sitting in the waiting area of the
“No, I’m not,” I replied, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers.
He took the pepper shaker from me. Of course, hetook the pepper. It was spicy, just like him. “Red, changing the subject is the only thing I get straight As in—especially when it comes to talking about relationships.”
“Well, like I said, he’s not exactly my boyfriend at the moment. It’s kind of on hold.”
“Oh man, did he push the pause button or something?”
I nodded, stunned. Was this something that
all
guys did?
“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “That’s a tough place to be. How long have you guys been together?”
“Three years.”
“Three years?!” he hooted. “That’s like almost a third of your life!”
“Actually, it’s 18.5 percent of it,” I said. “What’s the longest you’ve been in a relationship?”
He thought about it. “Three months.”
Okay, so he just hadn’t met the right girl yet. And it was impressive that rather than stay in something that wasn’t working, he wasn’t afraid to be alone, which, according to my mom, was the reason most people were in relationships.
“No, wait…it was two months,” he said.
Okay, so he was a free spirit—until now. Until me.
“But because the pause button’s been pushed, technically I’m, you know,
available,
” I said. I was, right? I wasn’t sure on the etiquette of this situation. I’d need to do some research to find out for sure. I pointed to a row ofcomputers. “How much do you think it costs to use one of those?” I wanted to Google, “If your boyfriend has pushed the pause button, is it okay to kiss someone else?”
“They’re free,” he replied. “That’s one of the perks of hangin’ in the Admirals Club.”
It really
was
pretty exclusive. I bet they even had free Tampax in the ladies room.
We moved over to the computers and sat down. It wasn’t like I was
trying
to look at Jack’s computer, but because there was a fat guy who smelled like cabbage at the computer next to me, I found myself leaning toward Jack, and my eyes just
happened
to glance up at his screen after he logged on to his mailbox. And they
happened
to see that he had thirty-three new messages.
“Wow. Have you not checked your e-mail in a few days?” I asked, pointing at the screen.
“No. I checked it before I left this morning,” he replied, clicking on a message that I saw was signed, Lots of luv, Brandi xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo . I tried to read it, but only got through Hey Jack, How r u doin? before he closed it and opened one signed, Miss u TONS, Brianna xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.
“So is it, like, lots of…junk mail…or something?” I asked, with one eye on my screen and the other on his.
“No. Just e-mails from friends and stuff.”
Yeah, “friends” that all happened to be
girls
it seemed, as I snuck another glance at his screen in time to see one signed, Mwah! Kylie xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.
Jack wasn’t technically my boyfriend yet, but just knowing that all these girls with names that ended in vowels had his e-mail address made me feel like I was going to explode. Some people might call the way I was feeling “insane with jealousy,” but I liked to think it just meant I was really passionate. That’s the explanation that Devon gave whenever she started doing things that were a little on the obsessive side, like spending hours doing Internet drive-bys on her boyfriends or using *67 to block her number and call whatever guy she was in love with that month just to hear him say, “Hello? Hello? Hello?!”
I had never felt jealous when I was with Michael. Not once. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe if I felt about Michael the way I felt about Jack at that moment—with my heart beating like I had had four Red Bulls in five minutes—things would have worked out and I’d be sitting in the waiting area of the
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