Watch Me Disappear

into her mug. “I was so pissed at him Sunday.”
    “But you were with Jason.”
    “Yeah, and Paul seemed utterly indifferent to that fact.”
    “So you were with Jason to make Paul jealous?”
    “And Jason’s hot.”
    “And dangerous,” I say.
    “Did Paul tell you that?”
    I nod.
    “So did it bother him that I was with Jason?”
    “Yeah. I mean, as soon as he saw you guys, he wanted to steer clear.”
    “Hmmm. Well that’s good. I just need to know he’s paying attention,” she says, diving into her food. “I thought Missy was with Wes, anyway.”
    I explain what happened.
    “Well then she won’t last long with Paul either. If she’s not going to give it up, he’ll get bored and move on.”
    I feel slightly reassured to hear Maura’s assessment of Paul’s intentions, even if I’m not sure she’s right. I wish I could ask Maura what she thinks about Paul kissing me, but obviously I can’t. Still, I wonder if the reason he kissed me was because he was giving up hope on Missy and I was just there—a convenient enough way to satisfy his hormonal appetite. That thought just makes me angry.
    “Think of those poor suckers in first period right now,” Maura says, as the waitress refills her coffee.
    First period. Calculus, one of my worst subjects. I really need to be there every day just to stay afloat, but I don’t care.
    “Ok, I’m going to tell Mr. Kramer my car battery was dead and my father was already at work. Since my mom didn’t know how to jump the battery, we had to wait for AAA. Sound good?” Maura asks when we finally pull into the school parking lot. I’m glad she came up with the lie so all I have to do is keep it straight.
     
    *          *          *
     
    When art class rolls around, I force a smile onto my face and approach Paul at our table.
    “Fairy tales do come true,” he says.
    “You’re a lucky guy,” I say, just an edge of sarcasm in my voice.
    “And you,” he says, pausing dramatically, “you turned over a new leaf at that party.”
    I don’t respond.
    “Hey, that’s cool. You’ve got to try stuff out. I did my test runs back in middle school. It took you a little longer.”
    I look at him for a moment to gauge his sincerity. I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or not, but he isn’t smirking the way he does when he’s making fun. If anything, he looks a little contrite. “It wasn’t great,” I say.
    “Live and learn, Lizzie. Live and learn.”
    “So are you coming over tonight to finish up college essays?” I ask.
    “What’s your mom making for dinner?” he says, which I know means he’ll be there.
     
    *          *          *
     
    “I don’t want this to hurt our friendship,” Missy tells me on the phone later. She just got off the phone with Paul, who left my house an hour or so earlier. “I mean, I know you’re just friends with Paul, but you guys spend a lot of time together, and I feel kind of like I’m stealing him away from you.”
    Sometimes I hate Missy’s unfailing honesty. Why does she always have to say everything that is on her mind? Can’t some things go unspoken? “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “My only thing is that you’ve been saying for months that you had no interest in Paul. I don’t think you should rush into anything when you and Wes just broke up.”
    “Yeah, you might be right.”
    “Paul has been adoring you for months, so if this is just a rebound, you’re going to end up breaking his heart. And you’re both my friends, too, so that would suck.” I want to say, “He just wants to have sex with you,” but I like Paul too much to want to paint that picture of him. Besides, if I did say that, Missy would just go tell Paul that I said it, assuming that he had said something similar to me. That’s Missy. I also want to tell her that he kissed me first, but how can I? And what would be the point?
    “I’m not rushing though,” Missy says. “I mean, we’re not officially dating or anything.”
    “Well that’s good. Just take it easy.”
    “Lizzie, you are the best. I mean it, best friends,” she says.
    Best friends? Like BFF? Friends forever? I have always wanted a friend who passed me notes in class signed “BFF.” It sounds nice. But I can’t be as honest with Missy as she is with me. I haven’t been telling her the whole truth for a while, really.
     
    *          *          *
     
    I have to miss school for a last-minute college