The Boyfriend List

“I can’t help it,” I said. “If you stopped to think for one second, wouldn’t you guess that telling me about Kim and Jackson would make me insane? That it would poison my whole day and possibly my entire future life with horrible images of nude bodies and penises that I don’t want to think about?”

Katarina sighed. “Don’t jump all over me ’cause Jackson broke up with you,” she said. “It’s not my fault.”

“It’s your fault I have to think about the two of them naked,” I yelled. “Just leave me off your penis information list from now on.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “You can be sure I will.”

She turned and went into the gym.

I felt like an asshole.

But hey: My heart rate was normal, and my lungs felt free and clear.

I took a deep breath.

1 Well, except for Finn Murphy. Kim was his first—and he was fifteen when that happened.

   “You devirginized him!” shouted Cricket, when Kim told us about Finn, back in October.

   “He started it,” Kim giggled. “It wasn’t me doing anything to him.”

   “But you were his first! He’ll remember you his whole life,” laughed Cricket. “Blueberry’s first kiss.”

   “Was he good?” Nora wanted to know.

   “Hey,” interrupted Cricket. “If he doesn’t know how to kiss yet, I can help you. Because Kaleb was like the worst kisser ever. He slobbered all over me and stuck his tongue in way too far.”

   “Gross. What did you do?” I asked.

   “I trained him!” giggled Cricket. “Only I didn’t complete the program because he dumped me before I could finish.”

   “What was the training?”

   “Oh, it was a whole regime,” said Cricket. “Kissing boot camp.”

   “Did you tell him he was a bad kisser?”

   “No. You have to be subtle. Like, I held on to his head to prevent him jamming his tongue down my throat, grabbing his ears almost. And I tried to kiss him lying down on a couch, so I could be on top. You get a lot less slobber that way.”

   “Oh, my god, he must have been awful,” said Nora.

   “You cannot imagine the horror.” Cricket rolled her eyes dramatically.

   “What else?”

   “I kissed his neck a lot, but you can’t go on like that forever. Eventually the lips have to get involved.”

   “What else?”

   “I can’t tell you,” snickered Cricket. “It’s private. Anyway, I want to hear about the stud- muffin.”

   “Oh, he was good right out of the starting gate,” said Nora. “We know that already.”

   “Is that true?” I asked Kim.

   Kim nodded with a smug, happy look on her face. “No training required. He’s a natural talent.”2 I exaggerate, of course. We went on hikes and did plenty of yarn projects. What I mean is, all we thought about was Spin the Bottle. No one cared about Capture the Flag, or the Rainier Mountain Singers, or woodland safety, or anything else we had been interested in the year before.3 What were the non-Spin the Bottle boys doing? Were they just not interested? Were they totally invulnerable to peer pressure? And why does it seem like there are always more girls than boys in these situations? Girls are always having to dance with each other, or they like the same boy, or they went out with the same boy. Just once, I’d like to see a situation where there were too many boys.4 Oh. That situation with too many boys? I have seen it. It was my actual life at the end of sophomore year. And it was not pretty.

   Be careful what you wish for, because getting it can be a complete debacle.5 At the camp Kim and Nora went to (“too expensive,” said my father; “too establishment,” said my mother), these were two separate games. Spin the Bottle was just for kissing, and you did it right in front of everyone. And Seven Minutes in Heaven started with people picking names out of a hat and then they went into a closet for the seven minutes. So not only did I have my first kiss with Michael Malone, who grossed me out—if we had been playing the game right, it never would have happened.6 I completely fail the pencil test, now. My pencil stays right up there, tucked beneath my boob. But that summer, my chest was only just starting to grow, so my pencil fell on the floor.7 I wonder if I should look her up on the Internet and send her an e-mail: “Dear Gracia Rodriguez. I am sorry I told everyone about you and the pencil test. My own boobs are now saggy and I feel your pain. I never should have done it. Please forgive me, Ruby Oliver.”8 What party? Further proof of my leprosy.

   Not only that, she told me about it as if I wouldn’t even be remotely hurt at not being invited. Like it was a matter of course that I wouldn’t even have known about it! Ag.

   She should have broken it to me gently. I had only been a leper for nine days. It’s not like I was used to it yet.9 What business did Heidi have being devastated about Jackson and Kim? By this point it had been six months since their two-month thing. And even if Heidi was carrying a torch, which I guess she’s entitled to do, why would Katarina bother telling me about it? It only made me feel even worse, if that was humanly possible. There was Heidi, all upset about a boy she went with ages ago, with all these friends supporting her and being angry on her behalf. And here’s me, the really injured party, and no one worrying at all.10 What? She thought I’d seen Jackson’s thing, as in penis thing? And she thought I’d like to hear that she thinks I’ve seen it?

   I swear, I have no understanding of other human beings. Being a leper suits me perfectly, if my only other choice is being friends with Katarina.11 Heidi must have seen it! Otherwise, why would Katarina think I had seen it? She must think penis viewing is the norm for Jackson’s girlfriends.12 So Jackson was getting naked with Heidi and with Kim. But not with me.13 Why not with me? Did he not like me as much as those other girls? Was I less attractive than them? Ruby Oliver, not the kind of girl you’d want touching your penis. Ruby Oliver, not exciting enough to try and get her pants