The Girlfriend Project Read online

  "Yeah," I say, knowing exactly what he's asking. "This is it."

  "I'm jealous."

  "I know."

  "So, this is what you meant by 'love' coming into the picture," he says, falling backward onto my bed.

  "You shouldn't be jealous of me, Lonnie," I say. "I'm still a dork and I always will be. You're It."

  "You're not a dork," he says. "And, even if you are, at least you're a happy one. You figured it out. I'm a restless caveman. I kiss anything that breathes."

  I chuckle. "Well, you do have your reputation."

  He gives me a small smile. "You got the better deal, buddy."

  "Doesn't mean you can't get it too."

  He rubs his face. "Can you write it up for me in a tip list?"

  I laugh, and he does too.

  He suddenly sits up. "New Jersey," he says, "Pass the Pepperoni and Quit Worrying About What Other People Think."

  "New Jersey," I say, "We May Have Our Problems, but Get Out of Our Face."

  "New Jersey," Ronnie says, entering the room, "Jersey Guys Are the Hottest and the Coolest."

  'And They're Fantastic Kissers," I add with a grin.

  'And They're the Hottest," Lonnie puts in.

  "And They're the Coolest," Ronnie finishes.

  . . .

  1. Has anyone ever laughed at you after you asked them out? If yes, did you not ask out anybody else because you were so hurt? How long did your hurt last?

  Mighty viking: yea 3 yrs

  Babe Hunter: it hurts worse than being kicked u-know-where

  Loner Wolf: ya ya 2 yrs & counting FlavorOfTheMonth: i askd out a guy once, it was so hard, i can c why guys get freaked abut it

  wicked: who needs the aggravation? i'm better off playin war craft

  Hot Stud: i was majorly bummd 4 a month. Thanks 4 bringing up a painful memory 4 me reed

  Dirty Girl: such a sad question 2TM!

  RBJ: she laughed so hard it was Ik i told a joke, i guess i was the joke.

  all start: OMG! i laughed at someone by accident! i didn't mean it! now i feel horrible! what should i do?

  el sexy: i still haven't asked out anyone else

  sykotic: no one laughs, maybe i'm lucky

  The Duke: she didn't laugh but she hung up

  Grrl: i asked out a guy and he said no. i'm not doing it again

  2. Have you ever rejected anyone? How did that feel?

  Flavor Of The Month: not fun at all

  Babe Hunter: some guys think its kewl but they're sick puppies

  sk8erboy: it sucked

  Soldier Of Fortune: hurts less than me being rejected

  all star: the guys u Ik r the 1s who reject u & the guys u don't Ik are the ones u reject, why?

  el sexy: i think i would like it!

  flowering garlic: be careful who u reject, the "dork" of today cud be the hunk of tomorrow. & dont think he'll forget what u did to him.

  chief cool: i felt Ik dog turd the drippy mushy kind.

  3. How important are looks to you?

  Mobster Mo: very but not proud of it

  el sexy: shallow but still important

  flowering garlic: don't judge a book by its cover

  Mighty viking: that's the way things are even in those tribes in the amazon rain forest

  Babe Hunter: guys r no better than chimps

  sk8erboy: it's biology, my dad is a biologist, it's chemistry

  green frog: 2 bad wen ur fat or ugly

  all star: girls r more into guys having hot cars or $$$$ or both

  Flavor Of The Month: if girls like bad boys it's all about hotness

  Dirty Girl: it's more important to have a good personality and sense of humor

  Hot Stud: ofc looks r important, what do you think nose jobs and wonderbras and zit concealer r for?

  4. Have you ever liked someone and not told them? For how long?

  monster 11: a whole yr

  wicked: i told her after 2 yrs & she told me 2 get lost

  sk8erboy: i had a crush on my statistics teacher for the longest time but i never told him

  el sexy: i Ik this girl at the video store but she has a stupid gorilla-bf

  flowering garlic: i know boys who secretly like a girl for years and never tell her! what's the point? just tell her! maybe she likes u too!

  cranial tornado 45: so much wasted luv

  green frog: my best friend likes this guy in gym & i don't think she'll ever tell him

  all star: i liked a guy at summer camp but didn't tell him till the last day and he liked me too and that was really stupid because we could have been together

  Hot Stud: if i like a girl i tell her. why deprive her of the best time of her life?

  5. Are you afraid of the opposite sex?

  wrsssatty: OFC

  Dirty Girl: guys are terrified of girls which is really sad. why are the questions so sad this time?

  chief cool: girls are man-eating blood-sucking fang-toothed cobra-headed monsters who toy w/guys for sport!

  Babe Hunter: they play games w/ur mind

  el sexy: i'm afraid of poisonous snakes, any connection?

  flowering garlic: boys and girls misunderstand each other too much, we don't speak the same language sometimes

  all star: i feel afraid when i'm around a guy. my heart beats fast and my stomach gets crampd

  Hot Stud: what's to be afraid of? girls adore me. girls worship me. I'm their god. why should i be afraid of adoration &worship & godliness?

  And in the comments section

  flowering garlic: gr8 questions reed, luv ur site

  Soldier Of Fortune: I'm not only guy traumatized

  sk8erboy: ur Ik a teacher reed, this is Ik class only it's fun and no homework!

  Dirty Girl: even tho the questions were sad they were important

  green frog: wow it takes guys yrs 2 recover from rejection

  el sexy: i'm goin 2 think abut it be4 i reject peeps from now on

  The posts are amazing this time. They're much longer than usual, and there are more of them. They're thoughtful and almost. . . poignant. I really feel for these people. Some of them have been through a lot. And I'm struck again by flowering garlic's insights. The dork of today? The hunk of tomorrow? Who 15 she?

  "Wow," Ronnie says.

  It's her fourth "wow." We're sitting together in front of my laptop reading everything.

  "Fantastic questions, Reed," she says. "People really got into it." She scrolls up the screen. "I had no idea guys had feelings."

  "Huh?" I ask. "What was that again?"

  "I had no idea guys had feelings," she repeats.

  I snort. 'As hard as it is to accept it, Ronnie, we're human beings too."

  "Sometimes I'm not so sure," she retorts.

  "Don't you think I have feelings?" I ask.

  "Yeah, but you're my best friend, Reed."

  "I'm a guy," I say.

  'And a majorly hot one," she says, kissing my cheek.

  I let out a laugh. "Just because guys don't express their feelings doesn't mean they don't have them."

  I've been reading some of my parents' books. I'm becoming a dating expert after all.

  Ronnie frowns. "But Reed, guys don't seem to care."

  "They care, Ronnie. They just don't show it."

  "Why?"

  "They're scared."

  Her frown deepens. I take her hand and put it on my chest.

  "Hear that? I have a heart just like you do."

  "I know you do, Reed, but. . . what about somebody like Lonnie?"

  "Are you kidding? Lonnie cried for an hour after Deena dumped him yesterday."

  "He did?" Her eyes are huge.

  I wonder if I should've told her that. But she seems to sense I've shared something sensitive with her.

  She sighs. "It's just. . . Guys call the shots."

  I throw up my hands. tries kissing her. When he asks her out for the second time . . ."

  She pouts. "But, Reed, girls have to wait for guys to call."

  "Guys have to wait for the green light for everything!" I point to the screen. "These guys got shot down and it's years later and they're still messed up!"

  I'm not happy to hear other guys went through what I did, but I am happy to hear I'm not the only fool on the planet.

  Ronnie touches my face. "Like you?"

  I nod. "Like me."

  I think back to four years ago. Ronnie was extra-protective of me after what happened with Marsha. She made herself available for every school function, every party, every football game, every dance, every movie night, every pep rally, every event that year. You'd almost think we were going out if you didn't know we were just friends.

  "Marsha doesn't know what she's missing," she'd say to me. "Don't worry about her, Reed, we'll show her."

  And I guess we did. I don't think I appreciated what Ronnie did for me. Mostly, I was miserable over Marsha. But I appreciate it now.

  Ronnie stares down at her lap.

  I raise her chin. "What's the matter?"

  "I'm thinking of all the guys I rejected, like, back to second grade. I feel really bad about it."

  "What would make you feel better?"

  "This," she says, kissing me.

  . . .

  Marsha Peterman drops by my locker between fifth and sixth periods a few days later.

  "I didn't know, Reed," she says.

  I'm not sure what she's talking about at first, but it soon becomes obvious.

  "Is that. . . what I did to you?" she goes on.

  I'm not sure how to answer. A girl who can squash you so badly probably wouldn't understand how much it hurt in the first place.

  I start to mumble something, but Marsha says, "You . . .

  You've really changed the way I see things, Reed. I wanted to tell you."

  She seems so sincere about it. I have trouble believing it, but maybe it's true.

  I clear my throat. "I'm . . . I'm glad to hear that, Marsha."

  She smiles shyly. "You're great, Reed. If you ever change your mind, let me know."

  New Jersey: Where

  Anything Is Possible

  Exit 11

  "How's the contest going?" I ask Grandma after school, snatching a just-baked blondie off a plate on the counter.

  "They're going to announce the winner tomorrow," she replies. "Very, very nerve-wracking."

  I pause, chewing my blondie thoughtfully. "You really think a motto can change an image, Grandma?"

  She studies me intently. "What do you think, Reed?"

  I hesitate, then say, "It's a . . . starting point."

  "Correct," she answers, then declares, "NewJersey: Where Grandson Geniuses Are Born and Bred."

  "New Jersey," I reply with a grin, "Where Grandmothers Rock and Rule."

  She laughs, and I grab another blondie and head to Ronnie's house.

  It's a day after our one-month anniversary, and in that time Ronnie and I have been inseparable. I'm definitely making up for lost time. I may not have kissed a girl until now, but I kiss Ronnie about eighteen times a day. I drive her to school every morning, drive her home every afternoon, hang out with her every evening, spend entire weekends with her.

  The only hours I don't spend with Ronnie, in fact, are the hours I spend sleeping, but even then she's the star of some interesting dreams.

  But it's still not enough for me. I want her intravenously.

  I'm in love. I know it.

  This is what I've been waiting for. This is what I've been searching for.

  The Girlfriend Project worked big-time!

  When Ronnie answers the door, I pull her into my arms. "I missed you," I whisper.

  Ronnie snorts. "It's only been five minutes since we saw each other."

  I bury my face in her hair. "I can't stand being away from you for even one minute."

  "I think you're obsessed with me, Reed," Ronnie says, pulling back to gaze at me.

  "Of course I'm obsessed with you," I reply.

  She frowns slightly. "Can't you get interested in . . . collecting Star Wars action figures or something?"

  "Nope."

  She sighs. "Reed, I've been thinking about this. I worry . . ."

  "What's there to worry about?" I ask, pulling her back into my arms.

  She talks into my collar. "Don't you think things are getting kind of. . . intense? Living next door to each other and all?"

  "That's the beauty of it, Ronnie, you're the girl next door."

  She sighs into my shoulder. "Oh, Reed . . ."

  "Can someone pass the barf bag?" Lonnie says, entering the room. "Some people are trying to digest around here, you know."

  Ronnie smirks. "Digest in another room," she says, but she quickly disentangles herself from me.

  Even after a month has gone by, I'm still struggling to navigate this whole dating-your-best-friend's-sister thing. It's become harder now that Deena's dumped Lonnie. I know he's trying to be a good sport about me and Ronnie, but I also catch him scowling at us every once in a while. I can't blame him. After all, it's almost like he's lost the two of us. I wish I had a clue how to deal with it, but I don't.

  "Dude, can I talk to you?" Lonnie asks. He shoots Ronnie a look of annoyance. "Privately?"

  Ronnie holds up her hands. "Hey, don't ever say I came between two guys trying to bond."

  "We ain't gonna bond, we're gonna talk."

  "Even better."

  I follow Lonnie up to his room. He shuts the door.

  "What's up?" I say, sitting uneasily on the edge of his bed.

  Lonnie paces back and forth in front of me. "Look, dude, this ain't gonna be easy."

  My stomach tightens. What does that mean? Is this the thing I've been dreading?

  "I've been thinking," Lonnie says, his pacing growing more frantic. "Like, the way you used to be, your identity. Remember when we talked about identity? About image? You know, like the Jersey motto?"

  I'm trying my best to follow this stream of consciousness, but I can't.

  "Um," I say, "I don't think I'm . . . getting it, Lonnie. Sorry."

  He looks at me with a pained expression. "Dude, you gotta understand this!" He runs his fingers through his hair distractedly. "You pretended not to want girls for four years. Right?"

  "Right," I say, just to go along. I still don't know what he's getting at.

  "So, I pretended to want girls," he says, then peers at me expectantly.

  "Um," I say.

  He holds out his hands. "Dude! Help me out here!"

  I stammer, "You—You . . . were keeping up an image . . . of wanting girls."

  "Yeah! Yeah!" he cries excitedly.

  "And I was . . . keeping up an image too. But mine was the opposite of yours?"

  "Yeah! Yeah!"

  "So, now we're still at opposites, only the other way around?"

  "Exactly," he says, punching the air.

  We're both quiet for a few seconds. "So . . . ," I say.

  "So I'm going to take a break for a little while."

  "From . . . girls?"

  "You nailed it, dude."

  "Huh," I comment, which is far from brilliant, but it's something.

  Lonnie looks embarrassed. "You know, Reed, I'm still not sure about you and Ronnie. But, well, you're an okay guy. No matter what happens."

  "Nothing's going to happen," I say in irritation, getting up. Right?

  . . .

  I get an acceptance letter from Princeton that week. But there is one glitch in my perfect new life. That fuzzy orangutan Jonathan trying to steal Ronnie back from me.

  See, the day after the stupid ape broke up with Ronnie, predictably, he called to say he'd changed his mind. I wanted to cheer when Ronnie hung up in his face. Come to think of it, I did cheer. Pretty loudly too.

  Then the pretty, perfumed white orchids started coming, then the incredibly bad poetry�
��Arghl—take a look at this stupid stuff!

  You and me,

  Ronnie, Ronnie,

  Prettier than a bumblebee,

  Deeper than the deep blue sea,

  Can't you see?

  We were meant to be.

  Oh, baby.

  See what I mean?!

  Then the champagne truffles arrived (thanks, muscle man, they were pretty good), then the ridiculous singing telegrams, then the teddy bears in pink tutus . . .

  Could the guy be any more pathetically desperate?

  I mean, I realize it can't be easy for him to witness the awesome spectacle of me and Ronnie engaging in nonstop lip-locks at my locker, at her locker, in the school cafeteria, after school, before school. . . .

  But he was the one who broke up with her!

  Tough luck, Son of Kong.

  Your loss. My gain.

  Still, it totally freaked me out.

  So, I almost busted a lung when, a couple of weeks later, I see Ronnie with Jonathan in an empty classroom.

  I'm here to pick her up after her German class. We have study hall in the library together, and I always walk her there. But instead of waiting for me by the door like she usually does, Ronnie's still inside the classroom, and there's no one around except baboon boy, and he's standing real, real close to her.

  I want to chuck him through the classroom windows, but I can't.

  Why didn't I ever take karate? Kick boxing? Steroids?

  The chimp chump puts a hand on Ronnie's waist.

  Every drop of blood in my body goes ice-cold.

  But Ronnie immediately removes Sir Hairy Gorilla's disgusting paw.

  I want to give her a standing ovation. No, eighteen standing ovations!

  She flounces away from him—leaving him staring after her with sad, puppy-dog eyes—and smiles when she sees me.

  I take her in my arms and kiss her deeply and ferociously, but she resists me.