favor by going to speed dating, the least I can do is show up to support his band. But mostly, I’d love to see him play. It’s universally known that a guy playing a guitar is sexy, and Jared already has a head start in that area. After he plays, maybe we’ll hang out. Dance together. Who knows?
I can see my no-dating-until-college rule flashing in my brain like a neon sign.
“Could you bring your friends, too? As many friendsas possible? It’s our first time playing a gig at this place and we need to show them we can get a good crowd if we’re ever going to play there again.”
“Of course. I’ll bring people.” And now I’m not so sure if I’ve been personally invited, or just recruited to bring people. He smiles at me, quick and bright like a camera flash, but I’m not sure why anymore.
“Do I need ID?”
“They usually don’t card people. Do you have a fake?”
I think back to the laminated student card from my birthday. “Yeah, but it’s not very good.”
“Bring it just in case. You should be fine.” Another smile, and there it is again, that fluttering in my chest. I wonder if he’s feeling the same vibe I’m feeling. But thinking back to the speed dating results, I realize he probably isn’t. The proof is all those e-mails from people thinking someone had checked them off when they hadn’t.
Attraction, apparently, is often accompanied by delusion.
Either way, I’ll show up Friday night. After his band plays, he’ll either pay attention to me or he won’t, and that will tell me once and for all if I’m Girl #13.
And if it really is me, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll think about breaking my rule.
F RIDAY CAN’T SEEM TO ARRIVE fast enough, but there’s plenty of excitement in the meantime—namely, Viv and Max’s budding romance. Although they’re avoidingall PDA, I could tell right away that they’d made the step from friendship to couplehood. Viv told us officially on Wednesday that she’s dating Max on the down-low, and that we’re all strictly forbidden to say anything to anyone about it.
Viv didn’t call me back Sunday night, so I never ended up telling her that I am the Oracle. And since she hasn’t contacted the Oracle again, I figure there’s no need to.
As I count the hours until Friday night, I write several new blogs for my Web site, including one that could be helpful to Evgeney.
How to Be a Romantic Hero
Guys, do you ever wonder why girls are overlooking you? What is it about you that puts you in the “friend” category, and not the “boyfriend” one?
What you need is to take a hint from what many girls are reading—yes, romance novels (of the teen or adult variety). To save you some time, I will describe some characteristics of the romantic hero girls are dreaming about.
He has an aura of strength and masculinity about him. Even if he’s not big and strong, he’s got something to replace it: he’s smart, an expert in his field. He’s powerful, a leader. He’s confident and doesn’t need rescuing.
He’s ambitious. Life is something he takes by the horns! He doesn’t wait for things to happen, he makes them happen.
He’s gorgeous. No, he’s odd-looking, even scarred. Here’s the great thing: it doesn’t matter. If you’re sexy and masculine, you don’t need to look like Harrison on Glamour Girl. (In fact, there is, lately, a distinct movement against pretty boys.)
He’s well-put-together. Or at least, he’s not a fashion disaster. Don’t let your mom or grandma dress you unless they’re in touch with current styles. If you’re clueless, check out some catalogs and copy the styles you see there. Or better yet, go into a store and have someone working there dress you.
How should you act? It’s all about confidence. Are you shy? Don’t act it. Instead, act reserved, quietly confident, like you’re fascinated by your own thoughts. And don’t come across as eager. Be calm, totally zen.
Good luck!
The O.
J ASON IS
James Kakalios
Tara Fox Hall
K. Sterling
Jonathan Maberry
Mary Balogh
Elizabeth Moynihan
Jane Hunt
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley
Jacquie Rogers
Shiloh Walker