Part 9 (1/2)
”You really are pretty, Bea. I'm going to have to find us some guys to go out with. It'd really stink if we didn't get dates our senior year.”
”Tell me about it,” I groaned.
”How about your new debate partner? Congrats on your win, by the way,” she said.
”Jared's an Aggie.”
Her mouth dropped. ”Are you serious? You must have been desperate for a partner.”
”You know it,” I muttered.
”Well, he must have done pretty good for you guys to win, Bea.”
”He's a bit rough around the edges right now,” I said slowly.
”Is he cute?”
”No,” I said flatly.
She got a disappointed look on her face. ”Well, would you consider asking him to Homecoming and bringing a friend for me?”
”Absolutely not,” I said vehemently. ”Besides, I think I've got a debate tournament.”
She dropped the subject. I actually didn't have a debate tournament, but it kept prying questions at bay. Johanna picked at her salad. I had already finished my sandwich and wanted to hide in the library to conduct more research for debate.
”Can I share something with you, Bea?” she asked quietly.
”Sure,” I replied. She seemed on edge.
”You have to promise not to laugh and you have to promise not to tell anyone,” she said, her face very serious as she looked at me.
”Yeah, who am I going to tell, Johanna? It's not like I have any other friends--real friends, you know?”
Johanna reached inside her notebook and pulled out a binder. She looked around her suspiciously before laying it on the table in front of us. She had my full attention. Her sudden, bizarre att.i.tude just made it more intriguing.
”What I'm about to show you may change our lives forever,” she whispered.
I wanted to laugh, but she was so serious about it that I forced the same serious expression on my face. Johanna opened up the binder and pulled out several sheets of paper from the back and lined them on the table in front of us. They appeared to be some sort of flow chart.
”Homework?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
”My own independent study,” she said in a low voice. ”What if I told you that I knew Dale was going to break up with me? Oh, I didn't know the exact date, but I actually calculated it this week. I was hoping we would last at least till the Homecoming dance.”
I was all ears now. ”What do you mean you calculated when he would break up with you?”
”I've created a model--you might call it a diagram. I input all the data I know about guys, what my friends would say about them, what the magazines say--you get the point. I wanted to know what guys truly are looking for in a girl to date her. The answers just blew me away.”
I looked at the diagram in front of me. It was very detailed and long. Johanna must have spent as much time on this as I had on my debate research. Still, it didn't make any sense to me.
”It looks cool, but I don't get it,” I told her.
”On the surface it looks complicated,” she agreed. ”But when you break it down, there really is a formula.”
I leaned in closer as she took her finger and started tracing different steps in the diagram. Yeah, it was still confusing. Johanna is a total brainiac. I was surprised she would even spend time on something like this. I never knew she agonized about dating as much as me.
”Okay, look at this,” she said. ”I take all the characteristics of the guys--like Dale. He's fun and outgoing. He's concerned with how his friends view him. He's also bold. I mean, he asked me to go to Homecoming the first day of school. Then I typed in any information I could find on the girls he's dated in the past.”
”Sorry, Johanna, you're losing me. I still don't get it.”
”Pay attention,” she snapped. ”It's really simple. I mean, you have to do your research on the guys, but we can make ourselves into what the guys are looking for. Theoretically, we should be able to get any guy we want.”
”Okay. What you're saying is, we gather information on a guy we want to date. Then we find out what he's liked in girls in the past. Then we transform ourselves into that type of girl?”
”Yeah. It's so easy, I'm surprised no one's come up with it before.”
”Good theory on paper, Johanna, but not in real life.”
”Oh, yeah?” she said coyly. ”How do you think Dale Jerry asked me out on a date?”
My eyes got big. ”You mean, you actually tried it out?”
She smiled and glanced around to make sure no one heard her. ”Haven't you noticed anything different about me, Bea? Really think about it.”
I looked her over. I had been so caught up with debate, but I had noticed little things--like she wore brighter colors, she was doing her hair more. I nodded, my thoughts running wild.
”You know another thing I discovered?” she continued. ”Once we cla.s.sify a guy, that type pretty much likes the same qualities in girls. The more I find out, the more I can tweak the formula so I can know exactly what to expect.”
My mind was racing. ”So how do I find a guy who likes big girls?”
”You're missing the point,” she said. ”We make ourselves into what they like. Pick out a guy you like, I'll input his characteristics, you research his past girlfriends--and ta da! I'll tell you what you need to do to get him to ask you on a date, when he'll ask you, and how long it will last. If we do it right, we should be able to have a date for the Winter Formal and prom, for sure.”
”So, I just need to start with finding a guy who likes big girls--”
”Get off the big girl wagon, Bea. Find a guy you like and do what you have to do to get him. If that means losing weight, then lose it. Change your hair color, wear more makeup.”
”Easy for you to say, Johanna. You're tiny and cute. I'm Italian. We're born with breeder's hips.”
”Do you want to date in your senior year, or what?” she asked. I could tell she was getting exasperated.
”Fine,” I said with a sigh. ”But I feel like I'm going to have to settle.”
”We will not settle,” she said with a fierce whisper. ”I proved I could get a guy to like me by just tweaking my look and making some slight adjustments to my personality.”
”Don't you want a guy to like you for you though? I mean, you're so smart.”
”Only geeky guys are smart,” she retorted. ”I'm tired of that being the only option for me. I want to date someone cute. Come on, Bea. It's our senior year. It's supposed to be the best time of our lives.”