Read How to Ruin My Teenage Life Page 8

Page 8

 

  It takes me exactly fifty-six minutes to convince my dad Im old enough to stay at the condo without parents.

  Brighter times are definitely ahead.

  9

  ***

  Kosher question #2: You cant mix milk and meat because God commanded "You shall not boil a kid (baby lamb) in its mothers milk" (Exodus 23:19). So why cant I mix milk with chicken? You cant milk a chicken.

  ***

  "Why do you keep glancing at the door every two seconds?" Maria asks me the next day at work.

  Umm. . . maybe its because my dads date is gonna be here any second, followed by my dad who still doesnt know hes going on a date. He thinks Maria needs to talk to him about my work schedule. I made up some ridiculous story to get him into the café at seven oclock.

  "Im watching for my dad," I tell my boss guiltily.

  The door to the café opens. Its a woman Ive never seen before. Is it Kelly, my dads date? Or is it someone else? Kelly wrote in her e-mail that she has strawberry blonde hair. This woman kind of has strawberry blonde hair, although its really frizzy and she needs some expensive hair products to help tame that mane of hers. That picture she posted online was with her hair straight, but maybe she forgot to flatiron it today.

  She walks up to the counter and suddenly Im feeling self-conscious, like I have to impress the woman. "Are you Kelly?" I ask.

  The woman shakes her Brillo pad head. "No. "

  "Oh, good. "

  When she frowns at me, I try and recover quick. "Can I take your order?"

  She looks up at our board of specialty coffees, taking her time. I have the urge to give her a snoring sound (Im good at those) but dont think Maria will appreciate my humor. So I wait with a smile on my face. And wait.

  And wait.

  I swear, any more of this waiting and Im going to frown. My mouth cant take all this fake smiling. I start humming, but I dont even realize it until the woman looks down at me with a stern expression. Seriously, thank goodness this woman isnt my dads strawberry blonde date.

  The door dings. Another customer. "Are you ready?" I ask the woman who cant make up her mind. I could just see her as my stepmom, me waiting for her to pick me up from school, taking forever to pick out groceries, and waiting for her to order a simple spicy tuna roll from Hanabi.

  Looking around her, another woman who could pass for strawberry blonde walks up to the counter. I suck in my breath. This woman is really large. And Im being nice.

  Maybe the picture she posted was pre-weight gain. My dad is a workout and health nut, and this woman looks like shes snacked on a few too many Kit Kats if you know what I mean. She has a friendly face, though. Hey, maybe Dad can put her on a boot camp diet plan and shed lose those extra pounds in no time at all.

  Ignoring the wishy-washy lady, I ask the overweight one, "Are you Kelly?"

  "No. But Id like a large caramel latte with whipped cream. "

  I keep up the Perk Me Up! smile, although Im tempted to suggest the skim latte instead of the caramel one. While Im ringing her up, the wishy-washy lady signals to me shes ready. Cant she see Im ringing up someone else?

  Maria is in the office and I dont want her to think I cant take care of the customers. I turn to the wishy-washer. "Did you decide?"

  "Whats the calorie count of the medium vanilla coffee? Is it the same as the regular?"

  Is she kidding me? I look under the counter to see if theres a calorie listing for the drinks, but there isnt. Now I dont know what to do. Should I make the other ladys drink or call Maria to help?

  I look at my watch. Its seven on the dot. Kelly will be here any second. My dad will be here any second.

  And Miss Wishy-Washy is worried about a calorie count.

  I knock on the door to the office and call Maria out to the register. I hurry to make the large caramel latte while

  Maria takes care of the frizzy-haired, high-maintenance customer. The chime rings on the door and a woman walks into the café who definitely looks like Kellys PJSN profile pic.

  She scans the café, then sits down at a vacant table to wait for my unsuspecting dad.

  Sure enough, my dad walks in the door next. My heart is palpitating a hundred beats a second right now. My dad waves to me and walks up to the register. Kelly must recognize him from the picture I posted on his profile. She moves up behind him and is about to tap him on the shoulder.

  "I have to tell you something," I say at the same time Kelly taps him and says, "Ron?"

  He turns to her. "Can I help you?"

  "Dad, its important. "

  He puts his fingertips together on one hand and moves it up and down, the unique Israeli sign for wait a second. The problem is, I cant wait a second. I need to tell him that, even though hes unaware of it, hes on his first PJSN date.

  "Im Kelly. Are you Ron?" Kelly asks.

  "Yes. "

  "From the Professional Jewish Singles Network?" Pause.

  "Um. . . could you hold that thought for one second," my dad says to Kelly. Then he turns to me. "Tell me what this is all about, Amy. Right. Now. Im assuming Maria doesnt want to talk to me about adjusting your work schedule. "

  "Aba, youre going to laugh when I tell you this. "

  "I doubt it. "

  Kelly looks upset and embarrassed. "Am I missing something here?"

  Okay, its time to fess up. I thought itd be easier than it is. I have the urge to hide in a dark corner. "I set up the date. Im his daughter," I tell her.

  Getting it, Kelly steps back. "Oh. " She adjusts the Coach bag hanging on her shoulder. "Well, that makes me look stupid. "

  "Actually, it makes me look stupid," I tell her.

  "And me," my dad chimes in. "Ill tell you what, Kelly. Why dont we sit down and have my daughter serve us the most expensive drinks in the place. Itll be her treat. "

  Kelly shrugs and nods her head in agreement. "Sounds good to me. "

  It doesnt sound good to me at all!

  "Im hungry, actually. How about one of the scones?" my dad asks. Im adding the bill in my head, knowing Ill have to work at least two more hours in order to pay for the food bill.

  "Scones sound wonderful," Kelly says, smiling. "Dont they have Elis cheesecake, too? Grab me a slice of that, would you, dear?"

  Im not liking Kelly with the strawberry blonde hair as much as my dad seems to like her. Teaching me a lesson is not how I imagined this date going. My dad sits down with Kelly while I bring them over Double Dutch Coffee Delight drinks. (I add a couple extra shots of espresso as a bonus. . . I hope they both are up all night and cant sleep. ) Those specialty drinks are four dollars and twenty-five cents each, along with the two-dollar-and-fifty-five-cent cheesecake and two-dollar-and-thirty-five-cent scones.

  As if my day isnt disastrous enough, when Maria tells me to sweep the floor of the café I find Nathan at his usual spot in the corner. "You got caught in one of your lies, Barbie?" Nathan says. "I have a piece of advice. Next time you set your dad up on a date, you should probably tell him about it beforehand. "

  I shoot him a nasty glare. "At least I have parents," I say, then want to take back my words right after theyve left my mouth. Nathans face goes ashen and he starts packing up his stuff.

  Maybe his parents are dead or in the hospital somewhere. Im a jerk. "Im sorry," I quickly say.

  As he shoves the last book into his backpack, he looks up at me. "No youre not. " Then he leaves me standing here while he storms out of the café, leaving me to pick up his used cup which is still three-quarters of the way full with tea. Now Im feeling even worse than before.

  I glance over at my dad, whos shaking hands with Kelly. She exits the café, leaving my dad alone at the table until I saunter up to him and say, "So?"

  He looks up at me from his chair. "So what?"

  "How was the date?"

  "Fine. "

  Fine is probably the most non-committal and non-descriptive word in the English language. I hate the
word fine. It doesnt even mean anything. I try a different approach, one that cant be answered with a "fine. "

  "Are you gonna see her again?"

  "Maybe. "

  Great, another non-descriptive word. "Did you get her number?"

  My dad stands now, which is not a good thing because hes way taller than me. "Listen to me, Amy, and listen good. Dont set me up on another date without my knowledge or youll find yourself without a cell phone. Got it?"

  "Fine. "

  10

  ***

  Rosh Hashanah: Two nights of huge festive meals. Hanukkah: Eat foods cooked in oil. Passover: The Haggadah (Passover prayer book) specifically says, Eat The Festive Meal. Sukkot: Build a sukkah and invite friends to eat in it. Yom Kippur: Eat three meals at once to make up for the day just fasted. I see a pattern here. Why are so many Jewish holidays centered around food?

  ***

  Since my dad went out of town this morning, Jessica invited me over for Shabbat dinner. So after school I go home, walk Mutt, then take a cab to Jessicas. I might also add that Nathan ignored me the entire day. Even when I tried to apologize again, he turned around and blatantly dissed me.

  "Come in, Amy," Jessicas mom says when she opens the door to their six-flat. "Jessica is in her room. "

  I climb the familiar whitewashed staircase and catch Jessica sitting at her desk, punching the keyboard of her computer. "Youre not checking Mitchs e-mail again, are your

  Without looking at me she responds, "You bet I am.

  He has no clue. I check them all and mark them as unread e-mail. "

  "Jess, break up with him if you dont trust him. "

  Jess swivels her chair around to face me. "He told me he loved me on New Years Eve, Amy. I havent had a guy tell me he loved me since That Guy. "

  That Guy is Michael Greenberg, who Jessica lost her virginity to last year. He blew her off right after their big night together and shes been insecure about guys ever since. She wont even give me, her bestest friend in the entire world, details about what happened with Michael. I cant even say his name without her walking out of the room.

  "Did he tell you he loved you in the heat of passion?"

  "His hands were under my shirt. "

  Okay, so Im not going to state the obvious. He gave her the of "I love you, lets get it on" crap. I look back at her and know she doesnt want to talk about it anymore.

  I look inside Jessicas closet to see what new clothes shes gotten that I can borrow. I pick out a vintage gray shirt with pink writing. "Where did you get this?"

  "I have no clue. My mom got it for me. "

  "Its cool. " As always, I make myself at home. Best friends share clothes, secrets, and beauty tips. I guess we also share guys because I dated Mitch for about a millisecond before he started dating Jessica. Taking my own shirt off, I try on her gray one. It fits, except when I look in her long mirror on the back of her door my nipples stick out because the fabric of the shirt is too thin.

  Depressed, I pull the shirt off and study my bra-covered boobs in the mirror.

  "What are you doing?" Jess asks.

  I hold my arms at my sides and look down at my pink lacy bra. "Do my boobs sag in this bra?" Testing what it would look like if they were perkier, I cup the bottom of my boobs and lift them up.