Boyfriends With Girlfriends

  Ditto, he wrote back. Then he undressed and climbed between the sheets, eager to relive their make-out session—and more.

  “So, tell me what I missed,” Allie said when Lance picked her up for church choir the next morning. “What happened with Sergio? Where did you go? What did you do? I want the full lowdown.”

  A sheepish little smile tugged at Lance’s lips. “We made out.”

  “Woo-hoo!” Allie high-fived him. “And how was it?”

  “Sweet! He said I’m a great kisser.”

  “See?” She squeezed his shoulder as he pulled out of the driveway. “I knew you two would be good together.”

  Lance pursed his lips, not quite as convinced. In the light of day, his doubts about Sergio had resumed.

  “Uh-oh,” Allie said. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? This is face-viewing range. I can see it.”

  Lance let out a sigh, unsure he wanted to get into it before church. “Apparently, he truly is bi.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in bi people,” Allie said.

  “Now I do. He’s already had full-on sex with both guys and girls.” To make sure she got the point, he repeated: “And girls!”

  “Babe?” Allie patted his hand. “Could you please not make it sound so awful?”

  “Oops, sorry. I just don’t get how somebody can get turned on by both. Being attracted to one seems complicated enough.”

  “I know!” Allie nodded in agreement, recalling her date the previous evening with Chip.

  “It’s like there’s this straight part of him,” Lance continued, “that I’ll never be able to connect with—and I don’t want to connect with it. Plus, he’s also done hookups. Compared to him, I feel like I’m in the remedial dating group.”

  “But he thinks you’re a great kisser,” Allie said. “Give yourself some props.”

  “Yeah . . .” Lance smiled proudly, calming down as he remembered making out. “And he said he likes me—on our first date! That’s more than I got from Darrell during the whole time we were together.”

  “Wow!” She raised her palm and high-fived him again. “And did you tell Sergio you like him?”

  “No. It felt too soon. It’s confusing; on one hand, it felt like we really connected, but on the other . . .” Lance stared out the windshield at the road ahead. “What if he ditches me for a girl?”

  “Well, he could ditch you for a guy, too.”

  “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

  “Or you might ditch him, too. Who can say what will happen?”

  “Yeah.” Lance tapped nervously on the steering wheel, eager to talk about something else. “So, what happened with you and Chip? Did you talk to him about the stuff you told me?”

  “Sort of. I told him I wanted to take a break. But then he kind of threw me for a loop. He said he’d wait for me for as long as it takes.”

  “He’s going to wait for you?” Lance asked. “Wow! He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

  “Either that or he’s a nut case.”

  “I wish I could find somebody like that,” Lance said. “Not a nut case. I mean someone who—you know—we’d love each other that much.”

  “But the problem,” Allie explained, “is that he loves me more than I love him. That’s what makes this so hard. And you want to hear something weird? Before we talked, he got totally excited about the girls’ love manga Kimiko gave me. And when I told him about that sex dream with the girl, I think he got turned on even more.”

  “What is it with straight guys and lesbians?” Lance laughed and turned the car into the church parking lot.

  “I know, right? What a pair: He gets off on the thought of two girls together while I get off on the idea of two guys together.”

  And yet she’d also enjoyed the Girl Panic story. So, what does that make me? she wondered, still unsure. She felt relieved to get to choir so she could take her mind off of her identity drama—at least for a while.

  * * *

  That Sunday afternoon, Kimiko printed out her “World’s Six Trillionth Love Poem” and took it to Sergio, her biggest, most devoted fan.

  “Here. I worked on it last night.” She unfolded the page from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. “I’m warning you—it’s pretty crappy.”

  “I want you to read it to me,” he said, refusing to take the poem.

  She’d known he’d say that; he always did. But she didn’t mind. It was good practice for poetry readings.

  “Let me get comfy!” He hopped onto the bed, fluffed the pillows, and propped himself against the headboard. “Ready!”

  Standing in front of him, she took a breath and read the poem. He listened closely, and when she’d finished, he leaped out of bed and chest-bumped her. “Bravo, man! I knew it would be great.”

  She shrugged, unflattered. “You’d think it was great even if I wrote about picking my nose.”

  “Because it would be!” He took the poem out of her hand and tacked it onto his wall. “So, what inspired you to write a love poem? Hmm . . . Could it have been your date with Allie?”

  “I’m not listening,” Kimiko said, plugging her fingers into her ears until he shushed. “I want to hear more about your date with Lance. So, when are you guys going out again?”

  “I don’t know. All morning long I’ve been thinking about him. . . .” While Sergio told her more about his time with Lance, he lifted his guinea pig, Elton, out of its cage and stroked its soft fur. “. . . A second date would be like the start of a relationship. You know what I mean? A first date is like a test drive; going out again would mean I want to buy the car.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kimiko argued. “It just means you’re willing to consider giving your love and affection to somebody who doesn’t need wood shavings and eat food pellets.”

  “Ha-ha,” Sergio said. “Besides, last time it was me who asked him out. This time it’s his turn.”

  “Why are guys so competitive like that?” Kimiko asked.

  “We’re not competitive.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  “Okay, we are!” Sergio said and pretended to sic Elton on her.

  During the following week, Sergio and Lance exchanged IMs several times—only about day-to-day stuff like classes or TV, nothing serious. While Sergio waited for Lance to ask him out, Serena, Kimiko’s poetry classmate, kept chatting him up at lunch and between classes. She didn’t really stoke his furnace like Zelda or Lance did, but she had a funny sense of humor, smelled good, and as Kimiko had put it, she did have “a nice rack.”

  “We should hang out sometime,” Serena told him one day at his locker.

  “Sure,” he said, merely being friendly.

  The next thing he knew she’d pulled out her cell. “What’s your number?”

  That very evening, she phoned him. And as with Zelda, he was upfront with her about being bi.

  “Kimiko already told you that, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” Serena said with a giggle. And even though it was only their first phone conversation, she asked, “You want to go out Saturday?”

  He hadn’t expected her to ask him out—at least not that quickly—and he wasn’t sure if she meant it as a date or just as friends. But since he didn’t have any plan for Saturday and Lance hadn’t asked him out, he told her, “Okay.”

  They made a plan to see the new Tarantino movie, and as soon as he hung up he phoned Kimiko.

  “Cool,” Kimiko replied when he told her about the conversation. “Are you excited?”

  “Not exactly. I’m not sure if this is a friend-date or a date-date.”

  “I guess you’ll find out,” Kimiko said with a giggle.

  “I need the car this Saturday,” Sergio told his mom and dad over dinner the following night.

  “Oh?” his mom asked while serving him rice. “Who are you going out with?”

  “Serena. She transferred from Northside. That’s
enough.” He stopped his mom from serving him more. “I don’t want to carb out.”

  “A new girl?” His dad’s voice perked up. “That’s good news.”

  “I’m not really interested in her,” Sergio said, trying to temper his parents’ enthusiasm. “It’s more like a mercy date.”

  “You never know,” his mom said, and he thought he saw her lips move in prayer.

  When Saturday arrived, she gave him some homemade churros to take to Serena, and his dad slipped him a twenty for the date without Sergio even asking for it.

  He shared the churros with Serena during their drive to the mall, while she talked about all sorts of stuff: how she’d learned to cook stir-fry, and how she missed a deaf friend at her old school, and about a jazz concert she’d gone to. She talked a lot more than Zelda or Lance—a whole lot more—and Sergio felt kind of relieved when the movie finally started.

  About fifteen minutes into the film, she slipped her hand into his. But unlike with Lance, his pulse didn’t ratchet up. He didn’t particularly mind holding her hand; he just didn’t feel that way about her. And during an action sequence, he casually pulled his hand away.

  “Did you like it?” she asked after the movie had ended.

  “I liked it all right,” he said, standing up to stretch. “And you?”

  “Yeah, me too.” As they walked out of the theater, she discussed the different actors, and told him she was writing a screenplay, and explained how she thought screenplays were a lot like poetry.

  When they stepped into the lobby, he glanced toward the candy counter. His heart nearly rocketed from his chest. Standing among the snack-buying crowd was Lance, looking as cute as Sergio remembered him—except for the fact he was with some guy.

  Was the dude a date? Sergio wanted to say hi to Lance, but not if the guy was a date. That would be too awkward.

  Just then, Lance turned in Sergio’s direction. Upon spotting him, he broke into a huge smile.

  “Let’s say hi to my friend!” Sergio interrupted Serena and led her toward Lance. “What up, man?”

  “Hi,” Lance said, and his glance shifted to Serena, wondering: Was she a friend or a date? Had Sergio gone back to dating girls? Was that why he hadn’t asked him out again? All week long he’d been hoping Sergio would call him, even while he hesitated to make the move himself.

  “We just saw the new Tarantino flick,” Sergio said. “What are you guys going to see?”

  “The Proposal.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Sergio said. “Chick flick, right?”

  “Yeah,” Lance said with a bashful grin. “Um . . .” He turned to the guy he was with. “This is my friend, Jamal.”

  “Hey,” Jamal said. “How was the Tarantino?” It was the movie he’d wanted to see but Lance had talked him into The Proposal.

  While Serena gave Jamal her rundown of the film, Sergio tried to get a clear vibe about him: Was he a friend-friend of Lance’s or a date-friend? He never considered that Lance was wondering the same about Serena and him.

  He wanted to pull Lance aside and ask: Why haven’t you called me, man? But then Lance might ask the same of him. Instead, Sergio smiled awkwardly and Lance smiled awkwardly in return.

  Serena finished her movie review and Sergio said, “Well, enjoy the show!”

  “Thanks,” Lance said and watched them leave. Where were they going? He wondered: to make out?

  “Want some popcorn?” Jamal asked him.

  “No, thanks,” Lance mumbled, still watching Sergio.

  Sergio peered over his shoulder, wanting to run back and tell Lance, “Hey, call me sometime!”

  But not with Jamal there. Instead, he just waved and Lance waved back.

  “Do you want to come over to my house for a while?” Serena asked when they got to Sergio’s car.

  “Huh?” His mind was still on Lance.

  “My parents won’t mind,” Serena said. “They’re cool.” As Sergio drove toward her house, she told him how her parents had met during a high school football game and she was the oldest of three girls, and how the youngest had Down syndrome.

  “Sorry to hear it,” Sergio said, half-listening, all the while wishing he’d called Lance after their last date.

  “Would you like to come in?” Serena asked when Sergio stopped in front of her house.

  “Thanks, but . . .” Even though he’d enjoyed the time with her, he just wasn’t feeling any hots for her. “. . . Um, I think I’m ready to go home . . . if that’s okay with you.”

  “No worries,” Serena said. But she didn’t move to open the door. Instead, she gazed across the seat at him, the quietest she’d been all evening.

  He knew what she was waiting for. He wouldn’t have minded kissing her except that it would imply something he didn’t want to imply. On Monday he’d have to face her in school and he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.

  “So . . . ,” she said, making no endeavor to leave, even though he’d left the motor running. “Was that guy in the lobby somebody you went out with?”

  “Huh?” Sergio turned to her. “Why do you ask that?”

  “I got the vibe. He’s cute. Nice smile. Tall! So, did you two go out?”

  “Yeah,” Sergio mumbled, a little embarrassed. “One time.”

  “I thought so.” Serena grinned. “Do you have a crush on him?”

  “A crush?” Sergio shuffled his feet on the floor mat. “No, why?”

  “Because your whole face lit up when you saw him. I think he’s got a crush on you, too.”

  “You do? What makes you say that?”

  “He almost couldn’t take his eyes off you—except when he was trying to figure out who I was.”

  “Oh, yeah?” It felt a little weird discussing all this since he hardly knew her. Plus, they were supposedly on a date. Or were they?

  “So, was the Jamal guy a date or his boyfriend or something?” Serena asked.

  “I’m not sure. I know he doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Then he’s fair game for you.” Serena gave him a puckish grin. “Call him!” She leaned across the seat, planted a kiss on Sergio’s cheek, and opened the door to get out. “Thanks for a nice evening.”

  “Thanks to you, too,” he replied, happy that she wasn’t upset with how their evening had turned out. He waited until she got inside the house and waved goodbye. Then he drove away, his mind returning to Lance. Serena was right: He should call him—and find out his deal with Jamal.

  “Guess what happened?” Lance told Allie over the phone as he headed home from dropping Jamal off. “I ran into Sergio at the movie theater.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Allie asked, in the middle of moisturizing before bed.

  “Yeah, he was with a girl. See? This is the problem with dating someone bi. How am I supposed to know if she was a date or just a friend?”

  “Well . . .” Allie rubbed the face cream into her cheeks. “. . . You could ask him.”

  “I’m not going to ask him that. I’m still not sure I want to get involved with him.”

  “Then why do you care if the girl was a friend or a date?”

  Lance thought it over while stopped at a traffic light.

  “All right, I’ll call him.” He let out a frustrated groan. “If he doesn’t call me first. So, how was your evening?”

  “My Saturday night felt a little weird without Chip,” Allie replied. “I went bowling with Megan, Nancy, and Leo. That was fine. But I kept worrying about Chip, imagining him sitting home alone. I hope he’s okay.”

  “He probably went out with his band buddies,” Lance assured her as he turned onto his street. “Question is: Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. A little sad, but okay. I’m still glad I suggested he and I take a break, to get perspective. You know?”

  “Yep,” Lance agreed and pulled into his driveway. “So, pick you up for church tomorrow?”

  “Super,” Allie said. “Good night, babe. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” Lance whispered. br />
  After hanging up, Allie climbed into bed and reached to turn the lamp off. Across the nightstand, Chip seemed to be staring straight at her from their photo. She turned the picture toward the wall and switched out the light.

  Even though Allie and Chip had agreed to take a break, to carry it out at school was a little complicated, especially at lunch, since they both belonged to the same group. Chip still sat beside her, and at times he put his arm around her as though nothing had changed.

  “What can I tell him?” Allie asked Lance one afternoon at their lockers. “I still feel guilty about him saying he’ll wait for me.”

  “I guess he’s showing you he means it,” Lance said.

  Hearing that didn’t help her any. She wasn’t sure what to tell other people, either. When Jenny heard they were taking a break from dating, she pulled Allie aside in the girls’ room.

  “What’s going on with you and Chip? Why didn’t you tell me about it? Is something wrong?” Jenny lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you seeing someone else?”

  “No,” Allie said. “I just need some time to think. That’s all.”

  “Well,” Jenny told her, “you know you can talk to me about anything.”

  “Thanks,” Allie said, but for now she felt too confused to discuss it with her.

  Meanwhile, she continued to chat online with Kimiko.

  “I’ve thought about calling her,” Kimiko told Sergio on the bus one day after school. “Maybe she’d want to hang out at the mall or something.”

  Kimiko expected Sergio to tease her about the idea but to her surprise, he didn’t.

  “Sure,” he muttered, “call her. Why not?”

  “You really think I should?” Kimiko asked. Even after the manga convention, she was still skeptical that an A-list girl like Allie would truly want to spend time with her.

  “Just do it!” Sergio grumbled. He’d been edgy ever since running into Lance at the movie theater, especially since Lance still hadn’t called him.

  That evening, Kimiko closed her bedroom door, jiggled her arms and legs to shake out her nervousness, and dialed Allie’s number.