I laugh. “Uh, awesome. How about having the same name as...”
“Yeah, none of us have really done much.”
“Dr. Seuss! Theodore Geisel.”
“You even have to ask if having the same name as Dr. Seuss is awesome or awful? It's obviously amazing.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
We stuff ourselves with milkshakes and fries and grilled cheese sandwiches, and outside when he leads me to his car he pulls me up on the hood instead of opening the door, and he kisses me for the first time since we made out after that party, back when I didn't know anything.
For the few minutes that I'm melted in this kiss, it feels like I know everything I need to. He goes to circus camp. He's scared about college. He likes Harry Potter.
He likes me.
Josey Josey Josey Josey...
10
But the hardest part about this isn't Josey, really. Because the hardest part is very definitely not telling my mother.
Maybe it's the consequence of having a young mother, some kind of Gilmore Girls thing, but we've always told each other everything. I'm pretty sure I knew she loved Dominic ages before he did. We never have any trouble getting each other birthday presents because neither of us is able to shut up when we see something we like, so the other one just scoops it up. The first time I was at a party with alcohol I called her crying and apologizing for having one beer, and she sighed at me and told me she'd come pick me up, and then we went out and got ice cream sodas and I got a very long lecture. We talk about hair removal strategies and trashy romance novels and money problems. We talk about everything.
And I'm not telling her about this. Partly because I'm sure I've mentioned Theo and I'm sure I've mentioned with some bitterness that he has a girlfriend, and I don't feel right at all even implying that they've broken up, which probably shows some kind of personal growth on my part, so at least there's that. And even if I somehow find a way to talk around Josey, at some point something's going to come up with well why aren't you going out with him tonight and what exactly am I supposed to say, oh, I got him last night, so it's Josey's turn, and that's okay, because I don't feel like getting out of pajamas today anyway?
She wouldn't get it, even though she knows how much I love pajamas. Because she knows everything about me.
Which means we've only been together for a week and a half before she can tell something's up. I think maybe she's just figuring out that my extra-swim-practices excuses don't really hold up, considering how many times I forget to dunk my head in the sink after whatever restaurant or corner of the school Theo and I were after school. But she says it's because of the look on my face.
“Taylor's in love,” she tells Dominic Sunday morning, and I freeze in the middle of scraping French toast crusts into the garbage disposal. One piece just hangs there, clinging to the side of the plate. French toast purgatory.
“Aww,” Dominic says. “Our little girl's all grown up.”
Despite the fact that I wish with every single cell in my whole body that this conversation were not happening, I do like that our. Plus Alexis is at her mom's house, so there's no one here to growl at me. That's always a plus.
“You're wrong,” I say. “I am not in love. I am cleaning up after breakfast. These are both improbable things, so you are just confused.”
“She might have a point,” Dominic says, and now I don't like him anymore. He's not allowed to agree with my self-deprecations! We're not there yet, bud.
“Now who's the lucky boy?” my mother says.
“Or girl,” Dominic says. “We accept you no matter what.”
Somehow I doubt that.
“Is it that Mike fellow?” Dominic says. “I bet it's that Mike fellow.”
“It's not Mike, and it is not a fellow, and it's also not anyone,” I say. “Maybe I just really like French toast.”
“You've been humming all morning,” my mother says. “People who hum are in love.”
“Maybe I just knew we were gonna have French toast.”
The whole social-outcast thing is pretty awesome when it comes to the cafeteria. No one wants to sit with Theo and Josey besides me, so we get to spread out all our food like we're at a family-style restaurant.
The downside is that when I get to the cafeteria before Theo on Monday, there is just Josey and no buffer.
It's not that I haven't been spending time with her this week. Of course I have. Largely here in the cafeteria.
But never alone.
I take a deep breath and plunk my tray down across from hers. She looks up at me and smiles, closes her book.
“So do we make out or do we brawl?” I say.
And she laughs.
I sit down. “I don't know how to talk to you!”
“It's kinda weird for me too, if that helps.”
“Oooh, it does. You mean perfect Josey isn't perfect?”
She mock-gapes at me. “Who would have thought.”
Theo shows up with some story about getting his finger stuck in his locker and the fingernail bruise to prove it, then sits down next to Josey (not reading into it not reading into it nope nope) and proceeds to steal half my carrots.
“Can I ask you guys something?” I say.
“No,” he says. “No questions allowed. That's our only rule.”
Josey nods seriously. “I haven't asked a question in three years.”
“You two need to shut the hell up,” I say, which gets me two big smiles from across the table. From Josey. Josey's smiling at me. Again. I mouthed off and now she's smiling at me.
I feel very fluttery and very
