Heartache and Other Natural Shocks by Glenda Leznoff

with my “new boyfriend.” I glare at Ma. Did she
have
to mention Ian to Pa? I wonder if she told him about Ian’s motorcycle. Papa calls motorcycles death traps. Papa makes fun of boys with long hair. If he didn’t like Tim Fraser, who’s basically a preppy jock, what’s he going to say when he meets Ian?
    Fortunately, Ma changes the topic. She says that on Saturday night, she and Pa are invited to the Epsteins’ for dinner. “So I’ll need you to babysit.”
    “Ma, I already have plans,” I say (hoping I actually
will
have plans).
    “Your plan is to babysit,” Pa says.
    “But, Papa, I have a date,” I lie.
    “So, invite your date over to the house,” he says.
    Buzz gives me an evil grin. Little brat. “Why do I always have to take care of Buzz!” I yell.
    Papa clutches his bread knife in his fist and says, “Carla, boyfriends come and go. Family is forever.”
    It’s a pissy, windy, rainy day, and by the time I get to school, the hems of my bell-bottom jeans are sopping wet, and my perfectly ironed hair is frizzled. I spot Ian in the smoking area with Jim Malone. I don’t feel like hanging out in the cold, but I do anyway. We huddle against the wall, smoking. I don’t say a word about Ian’s rude phone manners Friday night.
    At lunch, we meet in the cafeteria, and I drop hints about the movie
Klute
, with Jane Fonda and Donald Sutherland, because it’s the perfect date flick. Action and romance. Something for everyone. But Ian doesn’t bite.
    By the time we get to drama, I’m in a bad mood, and to make matters worse, Mr. Gabor announces that we’re doing trust exercises. I hate trust exercises. They’re so touchy-feely. And who does he put in my group? Ian, Jeremy, Benjamin, Geoff and Julia. I don’t even like looking at Julia, and I don’t like the way Ian looks at her either.
    To do trust exercises, you stand in a circle and the person in the middle has to close their eyes, cross their arms over their chest like a corpse and fall backward. Someone always catches them before they hit the floor. Easy-peasy. But wouldn’t you know, Little Miss Sensitive can’t do it. Every time Julia’s about to fall, she stops herself at the last second. Scene-stealer.
    Geoff says, “Don’t think about it, Jules, just do it.”
    “I can’t,” Julia says.
    What a suck. “Look,” I say, “it’s so simple.” I demonstrate, swooning right into Ian’s arms. I bat my lashes at him, but he’s already looking at Julia.
    He says, “Come on, Rapunzel.” I hate it when he calls her that. “Don’t you trust me?”
    “Not really,” Julia says dryly.
    Ian laughs. “Just close your eyes and pretend you’re falling out of your tower.”
    “And what are you, her Prince Charming?” I scoff.
    “Why don’t we skip me,” Julia says nervously.
    “There’s a thought,” I mutter.
    But suddenly Mr. Gabor appears. “Ms. Epstein,” he says, “do you know why we do this exercise?” Julia turns about twelve shades of blotchy red. “Because in theater, no man is an island. Onstage, we have to work as a team.” He puts his hands on Julia’s shoulders and positions her so that her back is to Ian. “Relax,” he says, “I’m sure Mr. Slater will catch you.” I want to give Julia a big fat shove, but instead, I stand thereas she tumbles into Ian’s arms. Geoff claps. Julia’s eyes flutter open. Ian smiles down at her. And that’s when I decide: no more beating around the bush. If I have to break my dating rule and ask Ian out myself, I’ll do it.
    After class, I follow him into the hall and say, “Ian, do you want to catch a movie Saturday night, or what?” My mouth is dry, and if he turns me down, I’m going to kill him.
    Ian looks at me like he’s mulling it over. Then he says, “Sure,” and breaks into a grin because he knew what I wanted; he was just trying to make me squirm.
    “Jerk,” I say.
    “Come on,” he says laughing. “Let’s go back to your place.”
    In my kitchen, we grab