thirteen
“JAY, CAN YOU OPEN your cash, please?” I say into the intercom. “Jay, open your cash!”
I have a dozen angry customers in my line, and my pothead coworker is nowhere to be found. I might as well have stayed home and self-flagellated like the albino in The Da Vinci Code.
Spotting a familiar face in line, I smile and wave. Lucy Ball is huddled over her shopping cart. The sight of her lightens my mood. She doesn’t mind a line, not like other people do. When she gets to the front of the line, she says, “How are you, Michaela?”
“Pretty good, Short Stuff. What about yourself?”
“I can’t complain. How is your advice business going?”
Incredible how she remembers everything I tell her. “Actually, I’ve decided to close up shop.”
“That’s too bad. You seemed so excited about it.”
“It’s not a big deal.” I shrug and continue scanning her groceries. “I should be saving up for college, anyway, and this job helps.”
She leans closer and whispers, “Smart girl like you can find a better job than this.”
I smile, because Lucy Ball gets it. I should really start looking for another job. When you’re unhappy doing what you’re doing, you’ve got to make a change. I only wish I knew what that change was. A new job won’t change the fact that I’m not the Oracle anymore.
After my lineup thins, the night drags by at a snail’s pace. I get home from work at nine-forty-five, depleted. All I want is a bowl of comfort cereal, my bed and the abyss of sleep.
As soon as I’m in my bedroom, I go to the computer and check my e-mail. Nothing. I haven’t heard from Tracey in days and it worries me. My intuition is telling me it has something to do with Scott. I hope my intuition fails me this once!
I log into Facebook and see that Viv has put a couple of comments on my profile. It looks like she was bored and looking to chat.
Seeing that I have a new group invitation, I click on it. The group is called Bring Back the Oracle of Dating!
No. Way.
At the top it says, This group is for people who think the Oracle of Dating is fantastic. We stand united in wanting her to put her Web site back up! The moderator is Viv. And there are seventy-four members.
Seventy-four members—holy crap! That’s a lot, especially since the group only started three days ago.
But I’m sure it’s just Viv trying to make me feel better. These members probably aren’t even interested in the Oracle. I know that because I join most groups I’m invited to.
I scroll down to the message board.
“The Oracle helped me realize I needed to love myself before I could love someone else,” a girl named Katrina writes.
“I never paid for advice from the Oracle, but her blog is awesome. She really tells it like it is!” says a kid named Jamie.
“Viv, why are you so obsessed with the Oracle of Dating?” Amy writes. “Okay, I admit, that blog on make-out buddies was interesting.”
“The Oracle tries her best to give advice even when the situation is complicated,” Viv writes. “I give her a lot of credit for that.”
There are a few other testimonials and a discussion about why the Oracle Web site was taken down. Some people speculate that the Oracle wasn’t making enough money to keep the site and phone line running. One person suggests it’s because the Oracle’s in high school and has exams coming up. Others say that she made so much money she didn’t need to do it anymore. Now, that’s funny.
“I’m sure the Oracle never got rich,” Viv wrote. “She obviously did it because she wanted to help people. You can tell it’s a calling for her.”
As I’m reading the discussions, another comment pops up on the page. It’s from Evgeney. His profile picture is a shot of him staring intently into his Web cam as if he’s trying to figure out if it’s broken. “The Oracle of Dating is excellent. The advice is very wise. It is not just for women. She gives advice to men, too. We need the Oracle to come back!”
Tears prick at my eyes. Evgeney was reading the site, just like I’d hoped. That must be why he started working out. I wipe my tears. Ridiculous to cry like this. But it’s such a relief to know that I actually helped people instead of just screwing up their lives.
I have to wonder: am I letting people like Evgeney down just because I’m afraid of giving bad advice again?
Maybe the risk of giving bad advice is part of the deal. If I’m going to help people, I have to accept that sometimes I’ll make a mistake. But it’s worth it if I can help most people, isn’t it?
I shouldn’t quit because of my failure with Viv. And she’s known that all along.
With shaky fingers, I write her an e-mail. “Thank you, Viv. You can announce on the Facebook group that the Oracle plans to put the Web site back up again tomorrow at 4:00 p.m. EST. And please tell them that I’m thankful for all of their encouragement.”
I send the e-mail, a feeling of peace coming over me. Idly I scroll through the group’s members. I blink when I spot the profile of Jared Stewart, whose picture is a vintage electric guitar. What’s he doing on a group supporting the Oracle? I didn’t even know he was on Facebook.
I feel myself smile. If the Oracle can get the attention of a skeptic like Jared, I must’ve been doing something right.
THE NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL, I’m different. I’m walking with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I can’t wait to rush home later today and upload the source files, watch the screen light up in pink and blue.
In class, Jared catches my eye. “You’re in a good mood today.” There’s a teasing light in his eyes.
“You’re right.”
“So what’s got you happy?”
I can’t exactly elaborate and tell him why. “Just…stuff.” And, thankfully, that’s when Ms. Goff starts the lesson.
At lunchtime in the caf, Viv exchanges a grin with me. I bet she’s already announced on the Facebook group that the Oracle will be up and running today after school. It’s good to see her smiling. I’m smiling, too.
“The Oracle of Dating e-mailed me last night to say that she’s putting the Web site up again,” Viv announces.
Ryan raises his brows. “Wow—your group really worked!”
“I’m not sure my group’s what did it. I think the Oracle knew she had no choice but to come back. She can’t turn away people in need.”
“You’re too modest,” Sharese says. “I bet your group helped. So, if the Oracle e-mailed you, does that mean you know who it is? I guess not some old businessman like I thought?”
Viv smiles. “She’s just a girl like us who’s into giving advice.”
“Well, if she can help Evgeney, she deserves a medal,” Sharese says. “Did you see what he posted on Facebook last night?”
We all nod.
Ryan scratches his head. “He must’ve been a big fan of the Oracle. I wonder if he read something on the site that made him change the way he dressed.”
“I’m sure he did,” Viv tells him.
“Evgeney’s dressing differently?” I hadn’t seen him lately, except that time at the gym and at the dance. We don’t have any classes together.
“Really,” Ryan says. “No more big collars. And I’m pretty sure he attempted to gel his hair the other day.”
I can’t help but smile. “Good for him. He’s such a nice guy.”
“Yeah, well. You know what they say about nice guys,” Sharese says dismally.
“What’s wrong with nice guys?” Viv asks.
“They finish last.”
Viv shakes her head. “That’s just a cliché.”
“They certainly finish last in the money department,” Ryan says. “You don’t make money by being nice.”
“But a nice guy will always find a nice girl,” I say.
“I bet you’re waiting for a nice guy to find you, huh, Kayla?” Sharese asks.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Well, I think Evgeney will find a nice girl soo
ner or later with the help of the Oracle.” Viv is careful not to look at me. “With Evgeney, she’s got her work cut out for her.”
THAT NIGHT, I’M SWAMPED with calls, instant messages and e-mails. I pass on having coffee with Amy and Sharese so that I can attend to my clients. Thank God I don’t have a shift at Eddie’s.
I post a message on the home page: “Due to personal reasons, the Oracle of Dating Web site has been down recently, but now it is back up. The Oracle apologizes for any difficulty this has caused, and assures you that she is here to stay!”
I get so many e-mails that I have to remind myself to go slow, and to consult sources where needed. When I get a couple of particularly difficult questions, I e-mail the clients back saying that the Oracle will need a couple of days to “meditate” on them. I refuse to give an off-the-cuff answer like the one I gave to Viv.
One female e-mailer even asks me for fashion advice. She must have concluded that, since I’d given some guys’ clothing advice in a blog meant for Evgeney, fashion was part of my area of expertise. Hmm. Maybe it could be. I’ll have to quiz Ryan on the season’s trends.
Around nine I hurry downstairs to grab my nightly bowl of cereal. Before I can run back upstairs, Erland shouts, “The Saturn-Jupiter aspect is over now!”
“Thanks, Erland!” I could’ve told him that.
THE NEXT WEEK GOES BY in a haze of school, dating questions, blogging and all things Oracle. Even while I’m working at the Hellhole, I find myself making notes on dating issues when I have a spare minute. It’s as if the weeks of not being the Oracle caused all this creativity to be suppressed, and now it’s coming out in a flood.
I meet with Erland to get astrological predictions for the coming week, telling him that I’d like to do love horoscopes for all my friends (which isn’t a lie, not really). I make notes as he describes the traits of different astrological signs, and explains what the current transits might mean for them next week.
While it’s all fresh in my mind, I hurry upstairs to write up the love horoscopes. It’s a lot of fun to do, and I have the satisfaction of knowing they’re based on real astrology. Once I’ve finished writing all twelve, I take a closer look at my own.
Libra: The sign for Libra is the scales of justice, which means that you’re mostly concerned with the well-being of others. Unfortunately, that also means that you usually put the interests of others above your own. This week, that has to change. The Oracle would like you to pay some attention to your life—specifically, your love life. By taking care of your needs, you will be all the better prepared to help others.
It totally rings true. These days I’ve been so into being the Oracle again that I’ve been neglecting the open window in my love life. Jared is single again; isn’t it a chance I would’ve died for a few weeks ago? What more do I need?
But it’s not as easy as just asking him out, I know that. I’ve got to do it in a more subtle way. Who can help me but the Oracle?
Glancing back through the Web site archives, I find a blog aptly called:
How to Make Him Ask You Out
1. Smile at him A LOT. Be warm and open. Flirt with him (if you’ve forgotten how, see my blog on flirting).
2. Give him an opening—for example, mention you haven’t figured out your Saturday-night plans yet.
3. Ask what he did on the weekend—that will let him know you’re interested in what he’s up to outside of school or work.
4. Suggest a casual group get-together. It could help break the ice. You could say, “My friends are going downtown tonight. We should all meet up and play pool.”
5. Feel free to e-mail or call him on an unrelated issue—it may pave the way for him to ask you out.
6. Ask him out yourself. Too shy? Do everything else on this list.
I take a deep breath. The advice isn’t bad, if I do say so myself.
Unless Jared is totally blind, he can see that I like him. I’m letting him know in every way besides actually telling him. I’m smiling, joking around. And he knows that I tried to go to his show. Shouldn’t that mean something?
Gossip about Jared has died down lately, especially since Brooke is now directing her attention toward winning back Declan. Jared is again on the periphery, and he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s the time of year when most mammals choose their winter hibernation partner and get ready for the season of snuggling. We’ve got downright warmth flowing between us. So what about the next step? Why are we both afraid to take the plunge?
Or am I completely and utterly delusional to think Jared has any interest in me, like so many of those unfortunate speed daters?
This is getting ridiculous. I have to do something. There’s not much time. Who knows what other girl might get in the way?
When I walk into the art room the next day, I find Jared already hard at work. I put my books down beside him. “Working on your project?”
“No, I’m already done. I’m working on something else.”
“Can I see?”
“All right.” He moves his arm out of the way.
He’s done a beautiful drawing of the Afghan girl from the magazine cover. He’s captured the girl so perfectly, it could almost be mistaken for the photo itself.
“You like it?”
“It’s mind-blowing.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you hand it in for, say, fifty bucks?”
I see the glint in his eye and smack him on the arm. “Don’t tempt me. Not that anyone would believe I did this. Why aren’t you handing it in yourself?”
“I need it for my portfolio. I’m applying to art school.”
“Art school? Wow.”
“What’s so surprising about that?”
“Nothing. It’s just not the usual path. It’s cool.”
“What about you? I bet you’ve got a plan of some kind. Let me guess—you’re going to be an entrepreneur and start a dating service.”
I stare at him. He can’t know, can he? “Why would you say that?”
“You organized the speed dating night. Maybe you caught the matchmaking bug.”
“Oh, right. I was thinking more of being a relationship counselor.”
“I could see you being a counselor. You’ve got the friendly thing going on. I mean, when you don’t have PMS.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Well, I did.” He moves close to me, so that his chest is inches from mine. “What are you gonna do? Kick my ass?”
We stare into each other’s eyes for one intense moment, and suddenly we’re laughing.
Gerstad shushes us. We stop laughing, but every time we look at each other we want to burst out all over again.
As class ends, he slips me a note.
You’re crazy, Kayla. But you make me laugh. Let’s meet for coffee tonight.
Oh. My. God. He has no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this!
Sure. Call me after school. 555-3940.
He nods. He’s looking, suddenly, a little shy. Like I’m feeling.
I guess we both know…
It’s a date.
Wohoooo!!!! Sorry. I just had to get that out.
fourteen
JARED SUGGESTS WE MEET at the Tea Lounge in Park Slope at eight.
What should I wear? The Oracle would caution that if I dress up too much, or put on more makeup than usual, Jared will sense that I’m really, eagerly into him. So cute-casual is the look I’m going for. I put on my Gap jeans and a black velvet hoodie, and wear the same sneakers I wore at school. My hair stays loose around my shoulders, drunken wave and all. I redo my eyeliner and lip gloss but leave it at that.
“Where are you going, honey?” Mom asks as I’m heading toward the door. She and the Swede are in the living room, drinking tea and watching the news.
“I have a date. I won’t be out late.”
Mom looks surprised. The Swede doesn’t, and I notice a slight smile. I don’t wait for questions, I grab my jacket and head out the door.
T
he Tea Lounge is a cozy place on Union Street across from a natural-food co-op. It’s only two stops away, and I end up arriving fifteen minutes early. I might as well take a seat and wait inside, because it’s cold and I don’t want to be all red-nosed and shivery when I see him.
When I walk in, my gaze sweeps the place for free seats and I spot Jared sitting on the couch chatting with some big muscular guy with long dark hair. I take in the sight of Jared, feeling my knees weaken, thinking how he makes all other guys my age look boring. Then I notice he’s wearing the same clothes he wore to school and it hits me that I shouldn’t have changed—damn!
The big guy next to him has a notepad on his lap and they seem to be talking intently. I wonder if he’s Jared’s band’s manager.
Jared looks up and waves. I approach. “Sorry I’m early. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Who cares? This is my social worker, Rodrigo. This is Kayla, my fellow artist.”
Rodrigo smiles and shakes my hand. “Great to meet you, Kayla.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Rodrigo hoists his leather bag over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. See you next time, Jared.” As Rodrigo walks away, it hits me. Though I’m not prone to psychic instincts, something about that guy, that gentle giant, makes me think he’d be perfect for Tracey.
“Tell me more about Rodrigo. Is he single?”
Jared stares at me. “You’re kidding me, right? The guy’s, like, thirty.”
“So? There are still some single guys who are thirty, aren’t there?”
Jared’s mouth moves like he’s trying to find words. “Uh, yeah, he’s single.”
“Perfect! Wait, do you mean single as in he’s not married? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you think he’d be willing to be set up? I think he’d love my sister. She’s really the sweetest—”
Jared’s laugh cuts me off. “Your sister? God, I thought you were talking about yourself.”
“Myself? Yeah, right. He’s way too old for me.”
“You’re right. He is. Now, let’s get drinks, okay?”