Lessons from a Dead Girl(16)

The week before school gets out, Leah is in full “look at me” mode as we wait in line outside the movie theater. In a halter and short skirt, she looks about five years older than me with my usual jeans and long-sleeve shirt. She seems annoyed to have to be standing with me, like I’m cramping her style.

“If you won’t hold hands with him, I will,” she says to me as I bite my already chewed-to-the-skin nails. She’s talking about Jeffrey Scotto, who somehow got my IM name and sent me this message two days ago: THE ONLY GOOD THING ABOUT SCHOOL THIS YEAR WAS GETTING TO SEE YOU. WILL YOU BE AT THE MOVIES THIS FRIDAY? — JEFFREY

I love that he didn’t abbreviate any words and used all capital letters, like he wanted to make sure I heard him. I printed out the message and memorized it. A boy likes me. A boy.

“Laine and Jeffrey sitting in a tree,” Leah starts to sing as we wait in line. That stupid baby song. She sings it in an annoying little-kid voice to make sure I know how childish she thinks the whole thing is. She’s way beyond “I like you” IMs.

“Are you going to let him feel you up?” she whispers in my ear.

God, I can’t believe her.

“What are you talking about?” I say, stepping away from her.

“C’mon, Lainey. Are you going to let him in your shirt? Or your pants?”

“No!” My cheeks get even hotter. I feel wet under my armpits.

She makes it sound so dirty. I suddenly see us in the closet, feel her hand going — I squeeze my eyes shut and block it out.

“I doubt he’ll even show up,” I say, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. I feel so self-conscious, I’m not sure I can stay standing up. Any slight breeze might make me lose my balance and I’ll fall over.

Leah looks amused.

“I bet he’s not coming,” I say. “It was probably a joke.” But I cross my fingers and hope it isn’t. Jeffrey Scotto isn’t even that good-looking, but the thought of a boy noticing me, liking me enough to IM me, is almost too hard to believe.

“So are you going to let him get in your shirt or not?” Leah asks, loudly enough for the people in front of us to hear.

“Would you shut up?” I whisper.

Just then I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I jump and turn to see Jeffrey Scotto standing in front of me.

Leah bursts out laughing. It reminds me of the laugh when we got caught with my dad’s Playboy, only this time she doesn’t sound nervous. Just spiteful.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, smiling.

He seems overly pleased that I’m with Leah.

“Stand in line with us, Jeffrey, then you and Lainey can sit together.” Leah’s brilliant when it comes to making me feel like an absolute idiot.

“OK,” Jeffrey says happily, stepping in between Leah and me.

I don’t dare look at him. My tongue feels too big for my mouth.

“This movie’s supposed to be intense,” Jeffrey says. His voice cracks a little. When his arm brushes against mine, butterflies take off in my stomach.

Leah gives him a flirty smile. “We’ll protect you, Jeff,” she says.

Leah knows no one calls Jeffrey “Jeff,” but of course he doesn’t correct her.

When we get inside, Leah grabs Jeffrey’s hand and pulls him into the back aisle. “Come on, Lainey. We’ll all sit back here.”

Leah walks to the end of the aisle, next to the wall. It’s the darkest spot in the entire theater. Jeffrey sits down next to her, then I sit next to him.

When the movie starts, it gets even darker. I can smell Jeffrey’s freshly washed T-shirt. I move a little bit closer to him, slowly, so he won’t notice. Just enough so that if he moves closer, too, we might touch. But he doesn’t move. In fact, I can’t tell in the dark, but it seems as though, if anything, he’s sitting closer to Leah.

The second preview comes on. It’s for an action movie with lots of explosives that light up the theater. I try to meet Jeffrey’s eyes, thinking I’ll smile at him as a way to thank him for the note.

I turn, hoping my bangs look OK. That my breath doesn’t smell funny. But it doesn’t matter. Jeffrey’s staring at Leah. She’s giving him one of her looks. I only see them a second before it gets dark again, but I know I’ve lost him.

I sink back in my seat and sigh.

When the movie starts, there’s a tap on my shoulder. My stomach flips. I don’t dare to look at Jeffrey. I think his tap is a nice one. Delicate. I start to convince myself I was wrong about the look I saw pass between him and Leah.

But as I turn, I realize it was Leah tapping me. She’s reached behind Jeffrey. Her arm is still over the back of his chair.

“Are you guys going to hold hands?” she asks matter-of-factly. She’s chewing gum. I smell the strawberry flavor when she breathes out.

I feel myself blush again.

Jeffrey doesn’t move a muscle.

“Come on, guys — what do you think movie theaters are for?”

Still nothing from Jeffrey. I’m sure he can hear my heart beating.

“Look, it’s easy.” Leah moves her arm from the back of Jeffrey’s chair and takes his hand. “Just put your fingers through mine, like this.”

Jeffrey seems as tense as I am. He stares straight ahead while she laces her fingers through his.