by Nia Stephens
Miserable, Gemma pulled out her cell phone and dialed.
Maria answered on the first ring. “Hey, chica. How’s it going?”
“Terribly,” Gemma admitted. She’d had such high hopes for this afternoon. Who knew she’d be such a total klutz on the ice?
“What happened? Did Dan dump your ass and pick up a dude yet?”
“He might as well have,” Gemma told her.
“What?” Maria screamed into the phone. “I was kidding. What the heck is going on over there? He really picked up another guy? See, I told you!”
“No. I didn’t say that,” Gemma said, glancing up to make sure Dan wasn’t nearby. Now he and Gemma’s little extortionist buddy were having a race. “I said he might as well have.”
“What’s happening?”
“Maria, you should see this guy skate. He’s a pro and has been taking lessons since he was a kid. I’m really starting to believe this guy is gay. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that but hello, I’m trying to find a guy interested in me, not my brother.”
“You don’t have a brother.”
Gemma sighed, frustrated with her friend. “You know what I mean. Do you want me to break it down for you? Fine. I’ll break it down. Dan—the guy that I have had three potentially romantic dates with and has never bothered to kiss me once—is gay. You were right all along. Dan. Is. Gay,” Gemma declared.
No sooner had the words escaped her lips than she sensed a person standing behind her. With the way things had been going, she was pretty sure she knew who that person was. Can I disappear right now? she thought. She shut her eyes a moment, then opened them. Nope, still here. Cautiously she turned around and there he was. Dan was standing behind her with his mouth hanging open.
She felt as if she were moving in slow motion. She brought the phone back up to her ear. “I need to call you back.” She clicked off and slipped the phone back into her pocket. From his expression, she knew Dan had heard every word.
“So I’m gay, huh?” Dan said. “And who are you telling that I’m gay?”
If only she knew how to faint.
Before she could answer, he asked, “And what makes you think that in the first place?”
Gemma’s mind raced. The best excuse she could come up with on such short notice was that she had meant gay as in happy, not anything sexual. Realizing no one in their right mind would believe that, she decided to come clean. She might as well face it head-on.
“You know all about art and foreign film,” Gemma said. “Your style of dress is impeccable. Not once have I seen you in anything less than stellar. Your legs look smoother than mine! There is not one hair out of place on your head. You’re perfect.”
Dan shook his head in disbelief. “You mean to tell me that because I take care of myself, I dress nicely, and have an interest in culture—that means I’m gay? Tell me this. What’s wrong with a guy who takes pride in himself? Because I would love to know.”
Gemma thought a moment, realizing he was absolutely right. She sounded like a raving lunatic, going on about how clean and neatly dressed he was. She didn’t know how to respond. But there was still something that troubled her, the issue that had set her to thinking this way. “What about the whole no kissing thing?”
“Ohhh, that’s what makes me gay. I didn’t kiss you? I apologize for not groping you and throwing my tongue down your throat.”
Her heart sank as her face turned crimson and a flash of heat slowly rose to her ears.
“I like to get to know a girl,” he said. “Especially one I’m seriously interested in. It shows her respect.”
Gemma’s heart was beating so fast and hard she was sure the entire rink could hear it. She wanted to kick her own ass for allowing Maria’s ranting to get to her.
“That’s the reason you didn’t kiss me?” she asked meekly.
Instead of answering, Dan hobbled over to her on his skates, pulled her into him and kissed her. His hands felt strong and powerful on her back, and the kiss moved quickly from an intense pressure on her lips to a deep, passionate exploration with his tongue. He slowly brought the kiss back to gentle nibbles on her lips, then released her. He backed away a few inches.
“Still think I’m gay?” Dan asked.
She shook her head, unable to speak. She had felt that kiss to her very bones. She lowered herself unsteadily to the bench.
“You know,” Dan said, his face serious. “I really thought this could go somewhere. But I have no time for girls who worry about what everyone else thinks, or buy into stupid stereotypes.”
Gemma nodded. She had said almost those exact words to Maria herself. Why had she let herself get so caught up in questioning Dan’s motives?
“See ya, Gemma,” Dan said. “I’m sure you can get your friend Maria to drive you home.”
The End
So you think Gemma is right not to go out with Dan? Then read on.
Chapter 8
The Dark Horse
“So you’re really not going to go out with him?” Maria asked over the phone.
After Dan left for the gallery, Gemma spent the rest of the party hanging with Maria and Manny, playing volleyball and Frisbee, and trying to keep from getting thrown in the ocean. It had been fun, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t have had as good a time if Dan had stayed. That’s what made her final decision.
Gemma threw LeBron a piece of salami. LeBron caught it in midair and returned to his corner of Gemma’s bedroom to enjoy his snack. “It’s not really that I think he’s gay,” she said. “It’s just that I don’t think we have that much in common. And I’m tired of freaking out about my clothes. It’s hard to date a guy who always looks better than you do!”
“I still think he’s gay,” Maria declared. “The whole ice-skating thing was a dead giveaway. I’m sorry but brothas don’t skate.”
“I guess we’ll never find out now, will we?”
“You do owe him some props,” Maria said. “He did you a favor.”
“How’s that?”
“He took you to that beach shindig thing and got your mom off your case!”
“True that,” Gemma said, laughing.
“So we gonna go out?” Maria asked.
“Definitely. I need to get out of this room. Besides, if my parents think I have no plans they’ll put me to work doing chores or something.”
“So where to?”
Gemma frowned. “What about Six Flags?”
“Too crowded and too hot,” Maria complained. “I know—and it was Dan who gave me the idea. How about the art museum?”
“The one Dan and I went to?” Gemma asked, stunned that Maria would want to visit a museum.
“Sure, I can be so-phis-ti-cated,” Maria said pointedly. “Besides, our parents will be thrilled, it’s air-conditioned and they have seats to sit your lazy butt down on.”
“Well, I never did get around to seeing much art,” Gemma confessed. “Just don’t let me fall into the fountain!”
“I promise,” Maria said.
“Give me a minute to call Dan.”
“Oh. That could take a while.”
“He’s having all these problems with the gallery. He’s probably there dealing with the show. I can just leave him a message.”
“Go the coward route?”
“Look, I want to get it over with. Besides, a message will save him some embarrassment. No one likes to be rejected.”
“Call me when you’re done,” Maria said, then clicked off.
Gemma dialed, and while the phone rang she considered possible messages to leave.
“Hello?” Dan answered.
In a panic, Gemma hung up the phone. She hadn’t expected him to pick up! She stared at her bedroom wall, silently praying he was the one guy on this planet that didn’t have caller ID. When her phone rang, she knew she was busted.
“You called?” Dan asked when she picked up.
“Uh—”
“Why did you hang up?”
>
Gemma looked over in the corner at LeBron, still gnawing away at his salami. “My dog accidentally hit the receiver. I was going to call right back,” she lied.
“Oh. So what’s up?”
This was it. This was the moment of truth. All she had to do was say the four little words that would set her free: I’m not feeling you. That’s all she had to say. Do it and get it over with. Her throat was as dry and scratchy as a dried-out Brillo pad. She could not speak. If this were Nick Simmons, she would have no problem telling him to kiss her posterior but this was Dan. He was a nice guy, just not the guy for her.
“Dan, I—” She took a deep breath and decided to just blurt it out. She was going to be as honest as possible—minus the part where her best friend suspected he was gay, of course.
“Dan, I’m calling because ... because ...” Why weren’t the words coming out?
“Oh, before you tell me what it is you have to say,” he began, “I just wanted to remind you to dress in layers when we go ice-skating. You’re cold when you start, but you warm up pretty quickly.”
Gemma sighed, realizing she had to do this right now. “Dan, I don’t think we’re a good match for each other.” There. She said it.
His end of the phone was silent.
“It’s not you,” Gemma said. “It’s me.” The minute the words escaped her lips, she cringed. “Really, Dan. I’d love it if we could still be friends.” D’oh. She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. The more she talked, the worse it became.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Stay cool.” He hung up.
Gemma could tell that he was hurt, but it had to be done.
“You went the friends route?” Maria asked when they arrived at the art museum.
Gemma nodded. “Yeah, and as if that was not bad enough, I gave him the ol’ it’s not you, it’s me line.”
Maria flinched. “Oooh, that had to hurt. Could you not think of something better to say? You couldn’t have told him you were moving to Cambodia to do some missionary work?”
Gemma shrugged. “I didn’t expect to have to actually talk to him. I was just going to leave a message.”
Gemma paid their admission and Maria picked up a map and a brochure for the museum.
“Why didn’t you just tell him you thought he was gay too while you were at it?” Maria commented.
“I wasn’t the one who thought he was gay,” Gemma protested.
“You know you thought something was up. Don’t put all of this on me.”
“I did not. That was all you.”
“Whatever,” Maria said. “The point is, it’s done.”
Gemma sighed and shook her head. “I guess so.”
As they began observing the sculpture exhibits, Maria asked, “Did I happen to mention that I have some gossip? Take your mind off this?” Somehow Maria always managed to get the news first. “Your boy, Nick, was suspended from the football team indefinitely.”
“You lie!” Gemma exclaimed. One of the museum patrons gave the girls an irritated look and they moved on to the next sculpture. “What for?”
“He was suspended for drinking,” Maria told her. “At Corey Thompson’s pool party. Apparently the police raided the party and most kids fled, but dumb-ass was passed-out drunk and got arrested for underage drinking. He just got a slap on the wrist because this was his first offense.”
“You mean first time he got caught,” Gemma corrected. It wasn’t that she liked to see another person down and out, but Nick was such a jerk.
As they walked the long corridors, Gemma pointed to the paintings that Dan had shown her on their date and told Maria what she remembered about them.
“And this is where I fell,” Gemma said when they came to the nude rising out of the fountain.
“You shouldn’t have to worry about that today—unless you want to kiss me?” Maria said, puckering up.
“Laugh while you can. The next time something embarrassing happens to you, I will so throw it in your face,” Gemma said, smacking her friend on the shoulder.
“Hey, isn’t that your buddy from bio class?” Maria asked. Gemma followed the direction of Maria’s pointing finger. Seth Cole was studying one of the paintings. He held a pencil and a sketch pad.
Seth was an artist? Who knew?
“Oh, yeah. That’s Seth. I’ll be right back.” Gemma walked over to him.
Seth was concentrating so hard that he didn’t notice Gemma peeking over his shoulder. He was drawing one of the paintings and it looked pretty darn good, too. “That’s really good,” she said, startling him. He dropped his pencil and pad. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
“That’s okay.” He stooped to retrieve his pad and pencil, then stood and grinned at her. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Just came here with Maria.” Gemma tipped her head toward Maria, who was now chatting with a cute security guard. “What about you?”
“I come here every weekend.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Between dissecting frogs and creating chemical compounds, I like to sketch.”
“Seriously?” Gemma asked, impressed.
“Nah. Actually, it’s my art project for class,” he said, laughing.
Why had she never noticed what a great smile he had? As she stood there, the weirdest idea popped into her head. She should ask him out. Whoa! Where did that come from? The desire materialized out of thin air. Maybe it was seeing him outside of school that piqued her curiosity.
“Down the hall there is this amazing statue,” Seth began. “It’s the one of—”
“You mean the one of the naked lady looking like a goddess-in-waiting?” Gemma asked, remembering Dan’s description.
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Gemma said. “I know exactly which one you are referring to. Let me guess—it’s your favorite.”
“Actually, no,” Seth said. “My favorite is the tiny moat running around it. I like the intricate carvings all along the edge. Have you seen it?”
Gemma exploded with laughter.
With a perplexed expression, Seth asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Actually,” she said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, “I’ve seen that piece really close up.”
“Do you want to check it out?” he asked.
“No, I think I’ll leave that one alone.”
Seth shrugged. “Your call.”
“Hey, Seth? Do you want to hang out with me sometime?” Gemma blurted. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised—she or Seth. He was someone she had never considered dating, but the reason she had tried the website was to break out of her usual mold. She decided from now on, cautious, only-go-for-it-on-the-court Gemma was gone. New Gemma was going to have a hey-you-never-know attitude and just go for it.
Seth grinned as he nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The End
You Chose Ethan
Chapter 4
Warming Up
After Maria went home, Gemma sat at her desk and stared at her computer. Should she really go through with this? When she and Maria were trying to decide which guy she should choose, Ethan was the one that kept popping up in her mind—although she didn’t breathe a word to Maria. All Gemma said was that she had to think about it.
This was her chance. She would never have the nerve to approach him in school. Seeing his profile on the site was the perfect excuse. Gazing at his photo, she couldn’t deny he had an irresistible thing going on. He reminded her of the rapper, Sean Paul, if Sean Paul were a six-foot-four power forward with a boyish grin.
Gemma drummed her coral fingernails on her desk, chin resting in her other hand. What to do, what to do? They went to the same school, played at the same away games—things could get sticky if it didn’t work out. But the real reason she hesitated was the on-again-off-again Angela Rattner factor. That was a mix she did not care to get caught up in.
After going back and forth for about t
wo hours, Gemma decided to go for it.
To: Bball
From: Cuteygirl
Subject: Hi
Ethan,
Hi. This is Gemma from school. I saw your profile online and decided to give it a shot. If you’re interested in going out sometime (aside from our games, of course) drop me an e-mail.
Perfect. Short and sweet. She hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for the mailbox icon to pop up. “Come on, Ethan,” she murmured. “Write back.”
After staring at the screen for about ten minutes, she stood up. “This is dumb,” she scolded herself. Ethan might not even be home. It could be hours before he replied—if he replied at all.
She went downstairs, calling for LeBron. “Come on, pooch,” she said, clicking on his leash. “Let’s check out the neighborhood trees.”
Outside, Gemma found the cool night air invigorating. She had been silly, planted in front of her computer waiting for Ethan to respond. She was proud of herself for e-mailing Ethan—for taking a chance. And if he didn’t answer, well that was his loss, right?
“Right, LeBron?”
LeBron looked up at her and barked. Gemma reached down and scratched the dog behind his ears. “Good answer.”
After walking LeBron, she went in the house and forced herself to walk up the stairs slowly. Ethan either wrote back or he didn’t. She was going to be totally philosophical and mature about this.
Nothing.
Fine, fine. She shrugged it off. She had better things to do than wait for some random boy—okay, a not-so-random and seriously hot boy—to answer a silly e-mail. Not liking the color she’d just tried, she got out the nail-polish remover and carefully gave herself a pedicure.
Still nothing.
“Gemma.” Her mother knocked on her door and swung it open. “Getting to be lights-out time.”
“Sure, Mom.” Was it that late already? Damn.
She casually glanced at the computer screen on her way to the bathroom. Nothing. All there was left to do was wash her face and brush her teeth.
