Lost It by KRISTEN TRACY

Author:KRISTEN TRACY
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SIMON PULSE

Chapter 15

IT TOOK TWO MORE DAYS BEFORE I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY to show Ben my new Supra Bra. For some reason, he’d become obsessed with getting into college. So when he wasn’t with me, he was studying all the time.

“Come over,” I pleaded. I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by my newly acquired thongs.

“I need to read Macbeth,” he said.

“Mrs. Hovel didn’t assign that,” I said.

“I know. But by the time you get to college, most kids have read some Shakespeare. It’s absolutely bizarre that this school district doesn’t assign him.”

“He slept around,” I said.

“He’s still a literary icon.”

The fact that Ben was so concerned about getting a scholarship to UC San Diego and Scripps Institution of Oceanography, an out-of-state college, should have raised an enormous red flag. But it didn’t. All I was concerned with was showing him my Supra Bra.

“Read one more chapter and then come over,” I said.

“It’s a play. It’s told in acts,” he said.

“My grandmother is driving me nuts. She wants to go bowling and then grab a martini.”

“What’s so bad about that?” he asked.

“She screams when she bowls. At the ball. At the pins. At the people in the other lanes. And she likes to get her martini at the Stardust, and that place really isn’t suitable for teenagers. They have a very inappropriate comedian.”

“They let you in?”

“It’s a restaurant. The comedian performs in the bar area, but he’s so loud that you can hear his act. He complains about women. Their big butts. Their mood swings and menstrual cramps. It annoys me. Rescue me,” I said.

“Tess,” he said. “I can’t.”

“You can,” I said. “You just don’t want to.”

With that, I hung up the phone and marched downstairs and complained to my grandmother that I did not want to go bowling or to the Stardust.

“What should we do?” she grunted. My grandmother was crouched in the corner of the living room. She was in the middle of hefting my mother’s favorite ficus tree into a new terra-cotta pot.

“It’s a school night. I should probably study,” I said.

“Sounds reasonable,” she replied. “Were you talking on the phone to Ben? Did you two get in a fight? Is that why your panties are in a bunch?” She scooped soil from the ficus tree’s former pot and patted it around the replanted tree’s base.

“We weren’t fighting. We were having a disagreement,” I said.

“When it comes to dating, there are rules.” She stood up and pointed her finger at me with such passion that a small clump of potting soil sailed across the room and pelted me in the chest. “First, no man likes a nag. Remember that.” She nodded her head with such enthusiasm that her blond hair continued to bounce even after her head had stopped moving. “Second, you need to let him chase you. Sure, you can let him catch you, but you should always be moving away.

“When I was eight, my neighbor bought a white-throated capuchin monkey named Bismarck. Every time I leaned in to kiss Bismarck, he would pull away.

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