Frogs & French Kisses

by Sarah Mlynowski

  “I thought she didn’t like him anymore.”

  “She likes him as a friend, but that’s it. But because he has mono, she feels too guilty to break up with him.” I really shouldn’t gossip with Miri so much about my friends. She never tells me anything about hers. Hmm, I’m not sure she has any. “So Saturday will be a sister day. Maybe we can watch a movie on the new TV!” Maybe I should stay home and watch TV on Friday, too, instead of going out with Will and Raf. How can I deal with both—correction: all—the Kosravi brothers simultaneously?

  I need a clone. Rochelle, where art thou?

  “Oh, will you do me one more favor?” I ask. “I need you to extend the love spell on the glove.”

  “Extend?” Miri says, shaking her head. “You can’t renew a love spell. It isn’t a library book, you know.”

  “What?” I scream. “Are you kidding me?” What am I going to do? Will’s feelings for me are going to wear off and I’ll be left with nothing! Unless Raf starts to like me again . . . Yeah, right. It looks like I’ve lost Raf for good.

  Miri leans back in her chair again, laughing hysterically. “I’m just kidding. Of course I can do it again. You can sleep on it tonight. Wow, you should have seen the look on your face. It was so funny.”

  Hilarious.

  Operation Save the Prom, aka the Auction, has been approved by the principal and scheduled for Monday, May 24, which is only three days before the prom.

  I’m in the school bathroom trying to get the no-touch auto-dryer to work when Jewel and Melissa saunter in. They start flicking their hair excessively when they see me.

  “Hi, Rachel,” Jewel says, catching my eye in the mirror. I feel the familiar tug of my heart. We used to be best friends. Before she joined the dark side.

  “Hey,” I respond, and stop waving my hands like a weirdo. I wipe my hands on my new fabo jeans. This room is too small for the three of us.

  “So, Rachel,” Melissa says, sliding up next to me. She reapplies her lipstick. “Looking forward to dinner tonight? Patsy’s is my fave. Love that white pizza.”

  What?

  Not only do I have to deal with my boyfriend, my quasi ex-boyfriend and love of my life, and their parents, I also have to deal with my archenemy? Are Melissa and Raf that serious? Are they a full-fledged couple? Maybe I’ll stab her with the pizza slicer. Maybe I’ll stab myself. Waiting for hours in the ER waiting room has got to be better than enduring an entire evening at the restaurant, as fave as it is. (And I know about waiting for hours in an ER. A person has to be run over by a steamroller before a doctor will see her. When I was five I got my finger caught in the car door, and I had to wait six hours before someone finally came out from somewhere in back, and then all he gave me was one lousy stitch and a lollipop.)

  Melissa’s green eyes are twinkling with evil.

  You know what? I’m not going to take her intimidation any longer. She should be nicer to me; I’m practically her sister-in-law. So what if Raf and Melissa are an item? It doesn’t matter. Raf doesn’t want me? Well, I don’t want him. I’m dating someone older and wiser. Someone who wants to date me. Fine, maybe his feelings are a bit enchanted, but that’s irrelevant. I have a boyfriend. Raf is history. “I am,” I say in my loudest, bring-it-on voice. I stretch myself up to my full five foot one. “See ya.” With that, I exit the bathroom.

  Not my best closing line, but at least this time I didn’t trip over a bike rack.

  It’s Friday night, and once again my mom and I are acting like wound-up toy cars, running all over the apartment. She’s in a bathrobe, blow-drying her long, perfectly blond hair, as I struggle to find the right outfit for my potential night from hell.

  When the buzzer goes off, I kiss Miri on the forehead and go into my mom’s room to say good-bye. “Have fun tonight!” I say over the sound of the blow-dryer.

  She’s tilted upside down and smiling, so it looks like she’s frowning. “You too! Where are you going?”

  It smells like smoke in here. That had better be her hair burning and not a cigarette. “Patsy’s!” I say.

  “What?”

  “Patsy’s!”

  “Barbequing? Have fun! Can you open the . . .” The blow-dryer drowns out her words.

  “What? I can’t hear you.”

  “Never mind!” she says, and with a purse of her lips, she opens her bedroom window with a bang.

  I grab my purse and I’m out the door.

  This is a disaster.

  No, really. I know I’ve called things disasters before, but this qualifies as an eleven on the Richter scale. Here is the seating arrangement at our round table: Will is on my left. Next to him is Mitch. Next to Mitch is Louise, his girlfriend. Next to her is Mr. Kosravi (“Call me Don, sweetie,” he says). Next to Don is Mrs. Kosravi (who keeps giving me the evil eye, most likely for ditching her baby boy and then promptly taking up with her middle child). Next to Mrs. Kosravi is Melissa. Which means guess who’s sitting to my right? (Drumroll, please.)

  Raf.

  How did this happen? It was like a game of musical chairs gone wrong. And now anytime Raf or Will moves his legs, his shoes accidentally bump against mine and shock waves go through my body. My left foot—Will. Right foot—Raf. My brain sensors are in overdrive. And Melissa is ignoring me entirely, laughing and joking with Mrs. Kosravi (she calls her Isabel) and Louise. Melissa’s parents, Louise’s parents, and the Kosravis go way back. How quaint.

  Isabel and Louise let out peals of laughter and my back stiffens. Who knew Melissa had anything funny to say? I stare into my plate of Caesar salad.

  Okay, it’s not all a disaster. The fried calamari is pretty awesome. And the truth is listening to the three boys tease and joke with one another is pretty adorable.

  “Do you wanna play some ball tomorrow?” Mitch asks Will. Mitch is, not surprisingly, as hot as his younger brothers. The three of them all have the same sexy dark hair, dark eyes, and lean athletic bodies. Mitch’s hair is the longest, his face the most angular. Will’s hair is the shortest and I think he’s the tallest. Raf has the widest smile. And a curl to his hair that the others don’t have.

  “I can’t,” Will says. “Unlike you, I have a job on Saturdays.”

  He is so responsible, my boyfriend. How many eighteen-year-old boys work just to be independent?

  “Why do you work so hard?” Mitch asks.

  Raf rips a roll in half and dips it into his bean soup. “It’s called money. You know, that green stuff you keep milking from Mom and Dad?”

  Funny. Fine. But he doesn’t have a job. So there.

  But he does have a drop of soup on the corner of his mouth. He licks it off. Must stop staring at Raf’s lips. Must stare at Will’s instead.

  “You’re a comedian, Lobes!” Mitch reaches clear across the table and tugs on Raf’s ear. “Doesn’t he have the floppiest ears? Raf, does your girlfriend give you mooshies?”

  Me? What? Oh, right. I’m Will’s girlfriend.

  Raf squirms and turns a deep shade of red.

  Melissa stops her conversation to beam a smile across the table, as if she’s accepting an award. The Snob of the Year Award.

  “You should have seen him when he was younger,” Mitch says. “He had the biggest ears in the world. Dumbo ears. Will and I used to tape them to the back of his head. We still think you should have had that surgery.” He polishes off the remainder of his salad.

  “He was freaky looking,” Will says teasingly.

  “Lucky he grew up to look more normal,” Mitch says. “More like us than Dumbo.”

  Raf winks at Melissa. “If I looked like either of them, I’d never leave my room.”

  Why doesn’t he wink at me?

  “Oh, tough love from Lobes!” Will says, and laughs.

  I give Will a wink. He winks back. Ha!

  “What’s a mooshie?” annoying Melissa asks.

  “Pulling his earlobe,” Will explains. “Go ahead, try it.”

  Raf is still blushing, but he’s smilin
g, too. Adorably. And the little-brother thing is so cute.

  Not cute! Not cute!

  Melissa pulls on his earlobe and the entire table cracks up. “Very soft,” she says.

  The waiter comes to clean off the table, interrupting the love fest and saving me from intense stabs of jealousy.

  “Any news on the Columbia scholarship?” Don asks Will.

  “What scholarship?” I ask.

  “No big deal,” Will says dismissively. “The political science department is considering giving me entrance money. Nothing major—just some money for books.”

  My boyfriend is modest, too! Take that, Raf. And political science! My boyfriend probably wants to be president— which means, one day, I could be the first lady. If I kept the spell up that long, which I wouldn’t, of course. But he might have fallen so deeply in love with me by prom that even without the spell he will still adore me—and I him—and we’ll live happily ever after, or something like that. That is so cool. So cool. I would make the best first lady ever! I could wear tailored suits and say, “Air Force One, fly me to Bermuda!” And I’ll have bodyguards. And, of course, do lots of charity work and stuff. Fix health care and social security . . . Would I have to cut my hair short? All the first ladies have Grandma Hair. I wonder if that’s a requirement. I could always cut it and then grow it out as soon as he’s elected. First lady for thirty seconds and I’m already shirking my duties.

  Anyway.

  “I should have gotten a scholarship to NYU,” Mitch says.

  “For what?” Will asks.

  Mitch grins. “My good looks?”

  The whole table groans. “I think your head might need its own chair. It’s getting fat,” Raf says, smirking.

  I stifle a laugh.

  “I thought the youngest one was supposed to be the ham,” Melissa says.

  Isabel smiles at her three sons. “Not mine. My baby is the introvert. My oldest can’t stop talking, and my middle one is on a quest to run the world.”

  Melissa touches Raf’s hand. “Raf? Are you going to run for student council president too?”

  He shakes his head. “Not interested.”

  “Really?” Her face drops in disappointment. Someone wants access to the soc lounge. “You’d be so good at it.”

  “I doubt it. I can’t suck up to so many people.”

  “Hey!” Will says, obviously offended. “I didn’t suck up to anyone.”

  “Kidding, kidding.”

  How rude. “If you’re such an introvert,” I blurt out, “why did you try out for the fashion show?”

  Our eyes lock. “I didn’t,” he says. “Will signed me up.”

  “I knew it would be good for you,” Will says. “You needed to make friends besides T. S. Eliot and Dylan Thomas.”

  Oh. I tear my eyes away from Raf and smile at Will. How sweet is he? Worrying about his little brother.

  “Are you going to be in the show again next year?” Melissa asks Raf.

  He shrugs. “Maybe.”

  “And what about you, Rachel?” Melissa asks, the evil glint back in her eyes. “Are you going to try out for the show again too?”

  “I might,” I say, and pick up my glass of water. Maybe I should dump it on her. How could Raf like someone so awful? It shows poor character. Will is definitely the better brother.

  “Mom,” Mitch is saying, “will you sew on my camp labels for me?”

  Camp? What camp?

  She nods and takes a sip of wine. “Sure, dear. Bring over whatever you want labeled.”

  “Don’t you think twenty-one is time to get a real summer job? Or at least sew your own name on your T-shirts?” says Will.

  Isabel smiles patiently. “Oh, come on now. There’s nothing wrong with a little help from Mom. I’m helping Raf with his camp labels again this year. And I’m happy to help you, too, Will.”

  The tips of Raf’s floppy ears turn pink. I resist the urge to give him a mooshie.

  “I didn’t know you worked at a camp!” I say to Will. I’ve never understood what the appeal is. Tents? Mosquitoes? Forced swimming lessons? Not my cup of tea. If my parents had been inclined to send me somewhere for the summer, I would have opted for Club Med.

  “Yup. Wood Lake. It’s up in the Adirondacks. Didn’t I tell you I was going back this summer? My last summer,” he says to Mitch.

  “You’re just jealous of all the power I’m going to have as a section head,” Mitch says.

  “I can’t believe they’re making you the boss of anything.” Will makes a face at his brother and puts his arm around my shoulders. “Rachel, what are you doing this summer? Why don’t you come too?”

  I almost spit out my water. “No thanks, camp’s not for me.” As much as I like Will, I’m too much of a city girl.

  Raf nods. “I can’t really see you there,” he says.

  Excuse me? I stew silently. How dare he comment on my camp potential!

  “May I take that plate?” asks the waitress, and our pies are suddenly in front of us. Who does Raf think he is? From now on, I’m all about Will. Raf who?

  After Don pays the check (Will tries to pay for our share, but his dad laughs him off), Melissa suggests that the six of us go to a movie.

  “I’ve already seen it,” I say quickly. This painful night must end. I’ve never felt more confused. I can’t stop thinking about Raf.

  Melissa laughs snarkily. “We haven’t decided on one yet.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of movies lately. And it’s already tenfifteen, and I told my mom I’d be home by twelve. Maybe another time.”

  We push our chairs back and head toward the door in a single line. And that’s when I can’t help staring at the world’s best cleavage.

  I don’t often stare at cleavage. But the woman’s dress is so low cut and her cleavage is literally spilling over and—

  That silver heart necklace looks familiar. That neck looks familiar. That chin. That face. Oh. My. God. It’s my mother. My eyes whip back down to her cleavage. That is not my mother’s cleavage. Well, it wasn’t my mom’s cleavage yesterday. My mother is sitting at a table for two, wearing a low-cut black dress I’ve never seen before, chewing on a piece of crust. Across from her is Adam.

  Mitch bumps into me from behind because I’ve stopped short. He follows my line of vision. “Sweet,” he says, and then whistles, which causes my mom to look up.

  At first she smiles, but then awareness washes over her face and her cheeks drain of color. She folds her arms across her chest. Too late! Then she pretends she didn’t see me and looks back at her date.

  My mouth opens but no sound comes out. Did the woman who gave birth to me just ignore me? “Mom?”

  She doesn’t look up. Is this not my mother? Maybe my mom has a doppelganger too.

  The woman bites her thumbnail. Oh, it’s my mother all right. “Mom?”

  She looks up, feigning surprise. “Well, hello there!” Is she kidding me? “Adam, you remember my daughter Rachel.”

  “Nice to see you again,” I say weakly.

  “I thought Rachel just called you,” Adam says, looking confused.

  “Did I say that?” my mom asks. “I meant Miri. I’m always doing that. It’s Miri who needs me to come straight home after dinner.”

  Huh? What? “There’s nothing wrong with Miri. When we left she was—”

  My mom gives me a please-shut-up look and I realize that she used my suggested make-your-cell-phone-ring-magically -when-you’re-bored trick. And I just totally busted her. Oops.

  “That’s your mom?” Mitch says, poking his head over my shoulder. “Nice.”

  Will, who’s already a few tables ahead, comes back. “Hi, Mrs. Graff. We were thinking of going to a movie. Is it cool if Rachel’s home a little later tonight?”

  I try to shake my head without actually shaking it. Why can’t I project my thoughts? Why why why?

  “Of course, Will!” she says with a great big smile, obviously thinking she’s doing me some sort of favor. �
�And I told you to call me Carol.”

  Will takes my hand and squeezes. “Thanks.”

  “Terrific,” I mutter, giving her and her breasts the evil eye all the way out the door. I wanted a friend for a mother. When am I going to learn to be careful what I wish for?

  12

  It’s One A.M. Do You Know Where Your Mother Is?

  Miri’s light is still on, so I pound on her door. “You up?”

  No answer. I open the door to find her room empty. Where in the world is she? Oh, no. She might actually be anywhere in the world.

  I’m about to panic when there’s a blast of cold and light, and a soaking-wet Miri materializes in the middle of her room. “Hi,” she says, blinking furiously, startled to see me. “When did you get home?”

  “Two minutes ago. Where were you?”

  “Arkansas. De-polluting the Mississippi. How was your night?”

  “Lame.” I could not concentrate on the movie. First of all, it was one of those action extravaganzas consisting of seven car chases, one after the other, which made me dizzy. My larger problem was that we were all sharing one super-sized popcorn, which Raf was in charge of. So even though I wanted nothing more than a handful of buttery delicious-ness, I couldn’t exactly reach my hand into my ex’s lap. How would it have looked?

  Melissa was giggling and whispering to Raf the whole time, which I found annoying and infuriating. How could a guy who liked me like her? But the most distracting part was Will’s fingers, which were drawing circles in my palm. See, I’m so over Raf. Will is just amazing. Smart, handsome, ambitious. A senior. What more could I want in a boyfriend?

  Miri strips out of her wet clothes and leaves them in a lump by her door.

  I cover my eyes. “Mom isn’t home yet, is she? I ran into her at the restaurant. Can you say embarrassing?”

  “Nope, she’s still not back.” We both silently mull this over.