“I’m going to go call Sally now,” I said, changing the subject abruptly, not wanting him to try and hook me up with another guy.
“You do that, Mila.” And with that, he hung up. I sighed and lay back on the bed, frustrated and excited at the same time. This is how it always went with TJ; we had a little flirting, a little bickering, and ultimately it ended up with a whole heap of nothing. And now he was dating some perfect girl called Barbie, who must probably gave him head every night, and I was still single—but now having to pretend that I had a boyfriend. I groaned as I closed my eyes and pictured TJ’s handsome face in my mind. Ugh, it was so frustrating. I just wanted him to give me a real chance, but I knew it was never going to happen unless I made a go of it. I sat up and grinned as I realized that my parents not coming might not be such a bad thing after all.
Chapter Three
Mila
March 18th, 2010
Dear Diary,
I’m a complete and utter idiot. The laughingstock of the country club. I’m going to kill Sally and I’m going to lock myself in my room for the next ten years. I’m never coming out again. Never. You will not believe what happened to me. I’m so EMBARRASSED!!!! TJ, the love of my life, came home this weekend with Cody. He asked me if I wanted to play tennis with him. Of course I said yes. I called Sally and she told me that he definitely likes me and that he was testing the waters to see if I liked him. I agreed—why else would he ask me to play tennis? I mean, every movie I’ve seen, the guy only asks the girl if she wants to hang out if he likes her. I mean, yeah he’s in college and I’m in high school, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have fallen for me. Anyways, I wore a super short skirt, as per Sally’s advice, and I wore a push-up bra and stuffed it with toilet paper and cotton wool. Well, the push-up bra was too loose and the toilet paper fell out of one side of my bra as I was playing. Yes, it fell out onto the court. Yes, I had one doubleD boob and one B-cup. No, TJ was not impressed. He started laughing at me in the middle of the game. Like literally stopped moving to point out the toilet paper on the court and then he said, and I quote him verbatim, “Your right boob fell out, dorky. You might want to fix that.” I nearly died. I would have died, but I think God was saving me so I could get revenge on Sally first for her bad advice. I’m never listening to her again. Or playing tennis with TJ. Well, maybe I’ll play tennis with TJ again if he asks. Which I doubt he will. I don’t think he likes me. If he liked me, he wouldn’t call me a dork, would he?
Mila
XOXO
P.S. I officially lost the tennis match, if you were wondering. 6-2, 6-2. Pitiful.
Friday, One Week Ago
“Hey, dorky, where’s Sally?” TJ stood outside my front door looking like some hunky model in a TV ad for men’s cologne or boxer briefs; very skimpy boxer briefs, I might add.
“She’s on her way,” I said and ushered him into my apartment, trying not to let him see how eager and happy I was that he was there.
“I thought you said that you’d be ready to leave at three?” He frowned as he stood next to me. His eyes bored into mine with an imperious glance and I made myself stand there, not touching his glorious body.
“I’m ready.” I frowned back at him. “It’s not my fault that Sally isn’t here yet.”
“Barbie is going to be upset,” he said and pulled out his phone.
“Why?” I cocked my head to the side and studied his face. “Did she get peroxide in her mouth?”
“She’s a natural blonde,” TJ said with a small smile, his lips curving up at the side, even though I knew he was trying not to laugh.
“Sure she is,” I said sweetly. “That’s why her pubic hair is darker than the hair on your head.”
“You’re gross and a brat, you know that, Mila?” He started laughing then. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Huh? What?” I said and swallowed hard. Was he going to ask me if I was being bitchy because I was jealous?
“Are you into women now? Is that why you’re so familiar with the female anatomy?” He looked me up and down. “I guess that explains why you look so butch today?”
“What?” I screeched and looked down at my outfit. “I don’t look butch.” But I didn’t look particularly feminine, either. I was wearing baggy blue jeans, a big T-shirt and had my hair back in a bun. I certainly wasn’t in any seduction-mode outfit, but that was by design. I wanted to look scruffy now, so that when I went into full-on seduction mode in the evening, TJ would be taken by surprise. I had to plan differently, now that I knew I had a Barbie to deal with.
“I’m not a lesbian, asshole.” I turned around and walked towards my bedroom. “I told you I’m seeing a guy.”
“Oh yeah, you did say something about some putz,” he said, following me into my bedroom. “Where is he? Hiding under your bed?”