The Oracle Rebounds, Page 3

  I remember the first time he kissed me. It was after school in the art room. I’d felt a hunger inside him that lit me up, scorching us both, forging our connection. Over the next months his kiss had become familiar to me, but the fire had always been there. The hunger for each other. And for me, at least, our connection had only grown stronger over time.

  Looking over at him, I see him tipping his head back to drink some soda. Even the act of drinking is somehow sensual, and a rush of longing goes through me. It occurs to me that I should be glad I never slept with him. I’d been sure that he would be my first, but I’d never quite felt ready, and Jared didn’t pressure me.

  “I can’t believe he’s just sitting there.” Ryan’s voice jars me from my thoughts. He’s got the evil eye focused squarely on Jared.

  Amy snorts. “I think he wore that outfit two days in a row.”

  I want to rise to Jared’s defense. He’s still in the foster-care system, living with an elderly Italian lady who sells lingerie to transvestites. He’s been saving all of his money for art school, and doesn’t have money for new clothes. Plus, I think he has two of the same band shirt.

  “Guys, you don’t need to talk about him like that. It doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  Ryan turns to me. “It makes us feel better.”

  Viv nods. “At least we know what kind of guy he is. Instead of working through a rough spot, he takes off. I heard about guys like that on Oprah.”

  “Can we please change the topic?” I ask.

  “I’ve got a new topic.” Amy looks at Sharese. “Are you going to tell them, or should I?”

  “Tell them what?”

  “About your new guy, of course!”

  “He’s not my new guy,” Sharese says, shifting in her seat. “We’re going out for dinner, that’s all.”

  “Which is obviously a date. Aren’t you going to tell them he’s an Olympic athlete?”

  Sharese rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t the real Olympics, I told you. It was the World Transplant Games. Zink’s had a bad heart all his life and got a transplant two years ago. He’s doing well, but he still needs drugs to make sure his body doesn’t reject it.”

  “Back up a minute,” Ryan says. “Did you say his name was Zinc, like the vitamin?”

  “It’s a mineral,” Sharese corrects, “but yes, that’s his name. It’s his mom’s maiden name. It’s spelled with a k on the end.”

  Ryan laughs. “What a name! Like he doesn’t have enough strikes against him already. So how’d you meet him?”

  “He’s been in my church youth group on and off for a few years.”

  I’m glad to hear that Sharese has a new guy in her life. Her last crush, on an ice-cream scooper named Mike P., came to nothing. By the time she’d worked up the courage to give him her number, he’d quit the Dairy Freez, never to be seen again.

  “That’s so romantic,” Viv says. “He struggles with his health for years, and now he can finally ask out the girl of his dreams.”

  Sharese makes a face. “Easy, turbo. It’s only a date.”

  “So is he cute or what?” Amy asks.

  “He’s cute, yeah. He’s kind of short. His heart condition stunted his growth.”

  “It’s gonna be a hot date, I just know it.” Amy gives a sly grin. “I bet he wants to test out his new heart by getting some action.”

  three

  7 Days into Rebound Equation

  With Regard to Key Lime Pie

  When someone finds a partner, we’re happy for them. We’re so happy we have parties: engagement parties, wedding showers, weddings, gift-opening parties, anniversary parties.

  Kaitlin used to have her boyfriend over every Sunday for dinner with her family. They used special plates and there was always a special dessert. Kaitlin’s favorite was key lime pie.

  But since Kaitlin and her boyfriend broke up, this Sunday dinner ritual no longer applies. No fancy china, no special dessert. There is no denying that, because Kaitlin does not have a boyfriend, her parents do not believe Sundays are worth the extra effort.

  Every Sunday, Kaitlin hopes against hope that her parents will buy dessert. She has compassion for her mom, who is watching her waistline, but she still feels that dessert would be nice.

  Every Sunday, like clockwork, Kaitlin asks, “What’s for dessert?”

  The answer is usually “Well, we have some cookies in the cupboard,” i.e. nothing.

  Where is my key lime pie? she wonders. Don’t girls without boyfriends deserve dessert, too?

  The Oracle believes there should be a new trend. Let’s pull out all the stops to celebrate people who have refused to settle or have been dumped or just like to be on their own. Let’s celebrate people who aren’t afraid of being single.

  Let’s serve them key lime pie!

  The Oracle of Dating

  When you’re involved in a breakup, you get every cliché in the book thrown at you. Like when Viv says, “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Ugh. In Viv’s defense, she knows about love and loss. Last fall Viv briefly dated Max McIver only to have to break up with him when her parents found out. It was devastating for both of them, but somehow they managed to salvage a friendship. And there’s obviously something still between them; they just can’t act on it.

  Viv’s cliché doesn’t work for me. Sure, I had a great few months with Jared. I discovered real passion, real companionship. There was nothing I couldn’t tell him. I enjoyed the routine of a solid relationship: the daily phone conversations, the lazy days chilling and making out, the messages on my voice mail telling me he missed me.

  But is it better to have loved and lost? I don’t think so. I was happy with Jared, but that happiness doesn’t make up for the pain I feel now. By dumping me, he’s taught me a lesson I didn’t want to learn—that you can show someone who you really are, you can love them completely, and then without warning, they can turn away from you.

  And a breakup isn’t just a parting of two people. It’s a series of mini-breakups that occur when the primary couple parts ways. You’re breaking up with his family and friends, and he’s breaking up with yours.

  I miss Gina, his foster mom. I miss the way she pinched my cheeks and plied me with cannoli. Will I ever see her again? I can’t picture calling her up to say hi. But it seems so strange to have spent so much time with her over the past few months and never see her again. I wonder if Jared will miss Mom and Erland. He got along great with them.

  I’m tempted to put some of my thoughts in a blog, but how can I? Jared could surf by and see my innermost feelings spilled onto the page. The last thing I need is for him to know how heartbroken I am. I’d prefer to hang on to what pride I have left.

  I admit I’ve occasionally surfed by his Facebook page and his band’s MySpace page. I can’t help it, even though I know it’s totally unhealthy. What happens when I see that he’s chatting with a new girl? Or what if his band posts a new song called “Swinging Single” or something like that? There’s too much potential for more pain. So, in a moment of strength, I delete him as my Facebook friend. This way, I won’t be able to see his page and I can stop wasting my time.

  Another thing about breakups? They’re hard because your whole routine changes. Now, after almost six months of a relationship routine, I have huge gaps in my schedule.

  With all this time on my hands, I have to ask myself: what did I do with my spare time before I met Jared?

  The answer is simple: I used to focus more on being the Oracle of Dating and less on my own love life (or lack of it). When Jared and I got together, I became less focused on expanding my business and only did what was necessary to maintain it.

  While I was with Jared, I wrote a blog about every two weeks. Before we started dating, I wrote at least one blog a week, sometimes two or three.

  What’s up with that? Was I the type of girl to forget her ambition because of a boyfriend?

  Well, no more.

  I call T
racey, but get her voice mail, and then I remember that she’s at her belly dancing class. I decide to call the only one of my friends who knows that I’m the Oracle: Viv.

  I explain the situation to her, and she says, “Yeah, I noticed you weren’t blogging as much.”

  Great! I’ve been letting down my readers. “You should’ve said something.”

  “You seemed happy. And busy. I didn’t want to pressure you to blog more.”

  “I let my relationship with Jared sidetrack me. I always thought that I’d be able to quit working at Eddie’s by now and focus on the Oracle, but obviously I haven’t gotten my butt in gear. I’ve got to think of how to expand. I need a new business plan.”

  “Did you have an old business plan?”

  “No. Maybe that was the problem. A business should grow over time, shouldn’t it? I’m not making any more money than I did six months ago.”

  “That’s because you haven’t done anything to broaden your audience. If you want to expand, you have to put the word out. A few flyers at local schools and shopping malls isn’t enough.”

  “But I don’t have lots of money to do an advertising blitz.”

  “You do have some money, right? Try investing it in yourself. That’s what all entrepreneurs do.”

  I consider that. I have a few hundred in the bank, since the Oracle’s been in the black for a while. Maybe that money should be invested in advertising. But how can I be sure it’ll be worth it?

  “I could try buying some advertising space on a couple of teen websites if I can afford it.”

  “Good idea. Your business is on the web, so web advertising is your best bet.”

  “Okay. I’ll do some research on where would be best.”

  When we hang up, I surf some websites and contact a few to ask about advertising prices. I have no idea how much advertising costs, but I have the feeling I can’t afford most of the sites I’d like to advertise on.

  If it takes thousands of dollars in advertising to grow a business, then I don’t have a chance. It seems unfair that it takes money to make money.

  I’ve got it! What if I find some popular teen blogs and see if I can do a guest blog for them? That’s a way of putting the word out without paying anything. True, most teen bloggers don’t have an audience of thousands. But if I can find some who are read by, say, one or two hundred people, that could be useful. What have I got to lose?

  My thoughts are interrupted by an instant message.

  Cheerlead4ever: I need help, Oracle of Dating. I’m going nuts.

  Oracle: What is it, Cheerleader?

  Cheerlead4ever: I think my boyfriend is cheating.

  Oracle: What makes you think that?

  Cheerlead4ever: He spends a lot of time with his guy friends and doesn’t always answer my calls. The guys could be covering for him.

  Oracle: It sounds like you don’t trust him. Why is that?

  Cheerlead4ever: He’s cheated before. It was the most humiliating thing that ever happened to me, and I can’t go through it again. He promised he’ll never do it again but how can I trust him?

  This is a touchy question. I have a theory about cheaters. If they do it once, they don’t have the moral foundation to stop themselves from doing it again.

  Oracle: The past can’t be changed. If you’re sure that you want to give him another chance, then you have no choice but to rebuild the trust that was lost. Otherwise, you’ll just be torturing yourself.

  Cheerlead4ever: He’s not helping any. He thinks I call and text him too much.

  Oracle: That’s too bad. If he wants to rebuild your trust, he should accept that you’ll be suspicious of him, at least for a while.

  Cheerlead4ever: I don’t think he’s concerned about rebuilding my trust. He just expects me to trust him, just like that!

  Oracle: He doesn’t sound very mature.

  Cheerlead4ever: You’re right about that!

  Oracle: Then the Oracle must ask you: why do you feel you have to be with him?

  Cheerlead4ever: Everybody knows we belong together. Even he knows it.

  Oracle: Why do you belong with a guy who’s cheated on you? Don’t you deserve better?

  Cheerlead4ever: Of course I do. I’m just waiting for him to figure that out.

  Oracle: If this guy is immature, it could be a long time before he figures it out. Or he may never figure it out. Are you willing to put your happiness in his hands?

  Cheerlead4ever: Yes, Oracle, I am. Now, can you tell me ways to figure out if he’s cheating on me or not?

  This girl really doesn’t get it. I give her some tips, and by the end of the chat, she seems satisfied that she got what she came for. Once we disconnect, I sit there for a few moments, wondering how anyone can be so obsessed with keeping a cheating boyfriend. The more she told me about him, the scuzzier he seemed. Yet for her, breaking up was not an option.

  Far better be single than in a relationship where there isn’t trust.

  I trusted Jared completely. Until he broke my heart.

  Haven’t Been Single for a While? Give It a Try!

  Now I admit it—the Oracle of Dating is as guilty as anyone of extolling the merits of being in a relationship. I mean, it’s the Oracle of Dating, not the Oracle of Singledom. Nevertheless, the Oracle believes that being single is not only a healthy place to be, it’s essential for a person’s growth. It’s a state not to be reviled, but appreciated. And the fact is, being single is downright fun.

  Yes, fun. Because being single puts you in a realm where the familiar is replaced by mystery. Who knows who you’ll meet at the party Friday night? Who knows what new guy will show up at your school?

  So whether you decide it’s time to break up with your boyfriend, or whether he’s made the decision for you, don’t despair. There are infinite romantic possibilities awaiting you…and if you need any help, the Oracle of Dating is always here.

  I post the blog with a satisfied nod. I can’t believe I haven’t written more blogs about being single in the past. I’ve spent most of my postpubescent life single so I should know a lot about it. I’ll have to write more about the joys of singledom in the coming days. And if Jared surfs by the website, all the better—he’ll figure I’m happy without him.

  “You’ll have to free up your schedule next week,” Mom says at the dinner table as she’s twirling spaghetti around her fork.

  “Why?” All sorts of unpleasant possibilities run through my brain. Pie-making with the church ladies? Teen Bible study? Sunday-school nursery duty?

  “We have a French exchange student coming,” Mom says, too cheerful to be trusted.

  “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Mrs. Martin called from the school. They’ve been having a hard time finding homes for the exchange students. I thought it would be nice if we helped out.” She gives an innocent smile, but I know this must be part of some devious plan. For a holy woman, Mom can be downright wicked.

  I look to the Swede for help, but his expression is annoyingly cheerful.

  “How could you do this without asking me? You know I’ve been down lately. I don’t want to have to show some French girl around.” I could see it now: hours in gray museums, endless lineups for tourist attractions. “How long will she be here for anyway?”

  “Two weeks.” Mom dabs the side of her mouth with a napkin. “And it’s not a girl. His name is Benoit and he’s seventeen. We thought you’d be okay with that.” She and Erland exchange a look.

  “Are you serious? You’re letting some strange French guy in the house for two weeks! What if he tries to assault me?”

  I can tell Mom and Erland are trying not to laugh. Okay, fine, I’m being a bit of a drama queen, but still. A French guy in our house? There’s no telling what sort of European debauchery could happen.

  “I’ll ask him not to assault you, dear,” she says. “We don’t know for a fact that he’s strange. Anyway, I think it will be good for you.”

  “I have to entertain hi
m for two whole weeks! That’s just cruel.”

  “You won’t have to be with him every day, honey. His teachers will have plenty of activities planned. But it would be nice if you took him out a few times.”

  “You have not been going out much lately,” Erland points out. “Now is your chance. Show Benoit the city. You would be great at that. We will give you money toward it.”

  Mom smiles. “Don’t you think it’s about time you had some fun?”

  You know you need to get a life when:

  You check your email dozens of times a day, hoping to hear from your ex-boyfriend—the same ex-boyfriend who hasn’t said more than two words to you since you broke up.

  Your parents have to fly you in a companion from overseas.

  Your mom buys you a bunch of teen romance novels when she used to tell you to go to the library instead.

  Your stepdad looks up your horoscope without you even asking him, and says you will find new romance soon. (C’mon, Erland!)

  I don’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though, because a situation arises that demands my attention. I’m on the phone with my older sister, Tracey, when she says, “Guess what? I’m going to try online dating! I signed up on Lavalife and Match.com.”

  Uh-oh, this is not my area of expertise. When I think of online dating, I think of freaks, perverts, stalkers.

  A little background on Tracey: she’s amazing. Really, she’s the best sister ever, and she actually likes having me as a little sister. Problem is, she’s had bad luck with guys since…well, forever. Tracey hasn’t dated much in the past few months. Around the time I got together with Jared, she had a relationship relapse with her ex. After that, she took a few months off dating, but has emerged again, slowly and cautiously. I was intent on setting her up with Jared’s gorgeous and spiritual social worker, Rodrigo, but as soon as Tracey decided she was ready to date again, it turned out Rodrigo had a new girlfriend. Talk about timing.