A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl Read online

  Shark attack.

  ROCKING THE BOAT

  We kiss for what seems like

  forever,

  which is a smart move on his part,

  because now

  I’m actually wanting him

  to try something

  else.

  I move my body against his,

  raising myself up off the deck

  to get

  a little closer.

  He picks up on that signal

  like he’s just tuned in to the station

  he was looking for.

  “God, Josie, you feel so good.”

  “Mmm, you too.”

  He unzips my sweatshirt jacket

  touching my breasts

  lightly with his fingertips.

  I shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he says.

  “No.”

  “Let me warm you up.”

  His mouth is warm and wet on my skin,

  kissing my mouth, chin, ears, neck

  burying his face between my breasts

  cold night air brushing against skin

  sending tremors through me

  his mouth devours me

  moving back up to my

  neck, ears,

  mouth,

  never stopping too long in any one spot

  until I’m squirming

  like crazy.

  “Tell me what you want,” he says.

  “I don’t know, don’t stop.”

  His hands slide down my stomach

  fingers pop open the top snap of my jeans

  then unzip.

  “Lift up your hips,” he says.

  I do what I’m told.

  He tugs my jeans down

  I feel his breath on me.

  I moan.

  I open my eyes for a second

  and catch him looking at me

  like he’s waiting for me to give him

  the go-ahead.

  We lock eyes.

  He grins.

  I close my eyes again

  and moan.

  I’m drowning in him.

  My hands wander

  through his hair

  over his back. . . .

  He moans.

  He rolls off me for a second,

  I hear the crackle of a wrapper tearing open

  then a zipper,

  he rolls back

  bare legs against mine.

  He kisses me again

  deeper this time

  his tongue probing

  we rock against each other

  matching the rhythm

  of the water rocking the boat

  slapping against its sides in beat

  with our bodies.

  “Josie, please, I’ve waited . . .”

  His fingers slide my underwear down

  I feel him hard against my leg

  cross my fingers, hope to die, swear on the Bible,

  I

  can’t

  breathe.

  In one more second it will be too late.

  “WAIT!”

  COLD FRONT

  We get dressed

  in silence

  (except I hear him swearing

  under his breath)

  We row back to shore

  in silence.

  The only sound

  our oars

  dipping into dark water

  our shoes

  crunching snail and mussel shells

  sand and rocks

  on the way up the beach.

  He doesn’t look at me once

  on the drive home.

  I pull my jacket tighter around me.

  He pulls into my driveway.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “It’s okay.

  See you at school,” he says.

  He backs out of the driveway

  before I’m even in the door.

  SUNK

  I wasn’t supposed to be there.

  I was supposed to be in study hall,

  but I got out with a lavatory pass

  and a chance to see him

  so I could explain.

  I wasn’t supposed to hear.

  “What are you putting up with that chick for, man?”

  one of his

  thick-necked, detention-duty, jerkoff

  jock friends says.

  “You haven’t even nailed her yet!”

  “I’ll get her to come around, I’ve just gotta work

  a little harder on this one,” he says.

  “You’re nuts, man, you’ve worked hard enough.

  Time to move on.

  Even if she does look like Ashley,”

  his idiot friend of freshmeat fame says.

  I see his face go hard, jaw clenched like before.

  Who’s Ashley?

  “Yeah, well, I almost did her the other night, then she

  freaked. Josie’s hot and all, but the whole thing is

  getting pretty old,” he says.

  I feel sick.

  Tumbling,

  head-pounding,

  veins

  in

  the

  back

  of

  my

  neck throbbing,

  heart-racing

  sick.

  I used to be so strong.

  I mean, for crying out loud,

  when our cat got hit by a car

  and my parents weren’t home

  and my little sister was hysterical

  I was the one who wrapped Sweet Pea

  in a towel

  and called the vet

  and called my parents

  and comforted my sister.

  And that was a dead cat!

  Could it really be this easy

  for a guy

  to make me

  weak?

  I run back to study hall before he sees me.

  We didn’t speak all weekend.

  He never called,

  and even though I

  really

  wanted to,

  I didn’t let myself

  call him.

  MISERABLE

  Him:

  “You’re taking this way too seriously, Jos.

  It just didn’t work out.

  We want different things, that’s all.”

  Me:

  “I thought you cared about me.”

  Him:

  “You know I do.”

  Me:

  “Clearly, I don’t know squat.”

  OFF

  It’s over.

  How can a person,

  any person,

  even just a friend,

  turn off,

  snap—

  just

  like

  that?

  Lights out, nobody’s home.

  Like he never even knew me.

  How stupid was I

  to think he cared about me,

  or even thought of me

  as a real, live, feeling

  person, even?

  Please, God, don’t let

  most boys be like this.

  I’ll have to become a

  nun

  or a

  gym teacher

  or

  something.

  KIM AND CAROLINE

  “Oh, so, suddenly

  we’re your best friends again?”

  Caroline wants to know.

  Kim’s nodding like always.

  “Where were you when we

  needed to talk?” Caroline says.

  Kim nods.

  “I mean, we promised to stick together

  and you run off with Mr. Wonderful

  and leave us in the dust!”

  I guess they’re pretty mad at me.

  “He’s not so Wonderful anymore, is he?”

  Caroline’s pleased with herself.

  She sure told me.

  She’s right, of course.

  I hav
e no excuse.

  None.

  I did leave them in the dust.

  And for what?

  I try to tell them

  but the words get all caught up

  in trying to explain what happened

  with him

  and I bawl.

  Really,

  all-and-all-out

  bawl.

  Caroline puts her arm around me.

  “Don’t cry, Josie,

  it’ll be okay,” she says.

  Kim nods.

  NEXT TIME

  I hope

  next time

  (because, unfortunately, you know there’s going to be

  a next time),

  I’ll be smarter.

  Oh god, please let me act

  as smart as

  I am.

  I’ll try to remember to look for the signs.

  You know, the ones that point to maybe a guy honing

  in on you for reasons other than you’re a decent-

  looking member of the opposite

  sex.

  The signs that maybe, just maybe,

  he might actually like you

  for

  YOU.

  I’m going to look for a boy

  who will look at me and

  at least

  try

  to see me.

  Me.

  Not a girl,

  not a hot girl,

  not a brainy girl,

  not a funny girl,

  not a dark girl,

  not a pretty girl,

  ME.

  FOREVER

  I hope I remember these feelings

  forever

  stupid

  humiliated

  foolish

  stung

  heartbroken

  pissed off

  and a little

  bit

  wiser.

  I want to remember

  forever,

  so I never fall for this kind of boy

  again.

  It would be nice

  if there was some manual

  some little book where a girl could look up

  what to do

  what not to do

  and who not to do it with.

  The truth is, I want to remember the good parts

  forever

  too,

  head spinning

  mood lifting

  confidence boosting

  insides quivering

  legs going weak

  heart going crazy

  body letting loose.

  The whole thing reminds me

  of this girl Katherine

  I read about in middle school

  in a book called

  Forever.

  I remember exactly how Katherine felt

  having all this love and sex stuff happen

  for the first time and

  even though they didn’t end up together

  forever

  like she thought they would

  she knew she’d remember that

  grab-at-your-heart

  blinding

  he’s-my-whole-world

  nothing-else-matters-but-him

  feeling

  forever.

  Of course, in the actual Forever,

  the boy, Michael I think his name was, wasn’t a

  total jerk

  so in real life, my real life,

  it’s not only the good parts I intend to hold on to

  but also how totally

  nothing

  he made me feel.

  I’m hoping that by remembering that,

  as much as I’d like to forget it,

  it’ll help keep me from ever

  letting a boy

  make me feel like

  nothing

  again.

  THE PLAN

  What’s wrong with boys

  like him, anyway?

  I mean, he really meant something to me,

  but to him

  I was just

  a girl to “nail.”

  So disgusting.

  It makes me want to shake him, shake some sense into

  him, hurt him somehow, give him a glimpse of how

  totally humiliated and used he made me feel,

  penetrate that smug attitude.

  That’s when it hits me.

  I really should do something,

  warn the others,

  so the next girl isn’t such an unsuspecting sap.

  And I know exactly how.

  My weapon of choice:

  Forever.

  Every girl reads it eventually.

  In high school,

  or earlier, like me, if they’re lucky enough

  to hear about it

  and there’s a copy to nab.

  Now every girl,

  at least in my school,

  will read about

  him

  at the same time.

  Forewarned,

  Forearmed.

  Forever.

  BEWARE

  I find what I’m looking for

  in the Bs for Blume, Judy.

  There’s a carrel

  where the librarian

  can’t see me.

  I open the book

  to the back

  where there just happens to be

  a bunch of those

  blank end pages (are we supposed to make notes here?)

  I write:

  TO THE GIRLS OF POINT BEACH HIGH: BEWARE!!

  There’s a boy at this school who’s only out for

  one thing.

  I won’t stoop to his level and call him by name

  but his initials are T. L .

  (aka, Two-faced Liar, Terrible Lay

  (I’m only guessing), Total Loser)

  he’s on the football and baseball teams

  and he never misses a party.

  Sound familiar?

  Don’t go out with him!

  (unless you want to use him for sex

  before he uses you)

  Forewarned is Forearmed.

  Forever.

  CHECK IT OUT

  It was easy to spread the word.

  “Remember that book Forever?

  Check it out again.

  Need-to-know information

  has been added

  at the back.”

  I was on a mission.

  Every girl I passed a note to

  or whispered to

  or told in the cafeteria

  nodded like she

  got it.

  HIGHER EDUCATION

  Let’s recap, shall we?

  I definitely lost some things along the way:

  My confidence—a little bit, yeah, but it’s coming back.

  My better judgment—yep, that definitely went

  out the window.

  My friends—that was a close one, could have been

  a lot worse (although I know they know it’s going to

  happen to them, which is probably why they cut me

  some slack).

  My virginity—nope! Still holding on to that!

  I found out some things along the way too,

  important things.

  I didn’t cave under pressure (that virginity thing).

  And I stood up for myself and fought back,

  I’m proud of that.

  It’s pretty amazing

  to find out new things about yourself

  when you think you already know every inch

  of your own personal landscape.

  And it’s pretty exciting

  to discover that there’s probably

  a whole lot more to discover

  inside this person

  that is

  me.

  It reminds me of the way the sun

  hits the water in the afternoon

  scattering color and light

  all over the beach

  revealing
little nooks and crannies

  that were always there

  but didn’t catch my eye until the moment

  they sparkled in the sunlight,

  impossible to miss.

  A lucky feeling floods over me,

  washing away pieces of the pain.

  Wisdom stings but

  ignorance is not bliss.

  Nicolette

  POWER PLAY

  It didn’t take a genius to see it.

  All the girls at my school

  were always just

  waiting.

  Waiting

  for some guy to call,

  waiting

  for some guy to say she was

  pretty, or

  nice, or

  smart.

  Waiting for some

  guy

  to make the first move.

  Uh-uh. Not me.

  Why should I sit around and wait?

  It’s all about the power.

  Who’s got it

  and who doesn’t.

  If I say who

  and I say when

  and I say what

  then I

  have it.

  Simple as that.

  Let’s just leave the rest of the

  lovey-dovey crap

  out of it,

  okay?

  I LOVE

  the way my body starts to feel

  when a boy runs his hands all over me,

  first over my clothes,

  then getting all under them,

  appreciating smooth curves

  and hidden places.

  I love the way a boy’s body feels

  when he starts to groan

  from my touch,

  and he squirms and shifts

  and wants me so bad

  and tells me so.

  and I love, love, love, love

  the time when you know

  there isn’t any place else in the whole wide world