do. A rash? Seriously ?”
Liesl takes my cup away, because I’m sort of clenching on it and endangering her brocade couch. “Kidding about the rash. But I agree it would be difficult since you’re working together and all. I mean, I like to joke around, but when it comes down to it, you have to make the decision that works for you and your work. Keeping it professional is honestly the safest thing to do here. Maybe wait until the project is done.”
“When the project is done,” I retort. “I won’t be around all day and he’ll forget about me.” I snap my fingers. “Out of sight, out of mind, and he’ll be back to his usual dimes. I’m just an old nickel.”
Liesl laughs and then her faces goes somber. “You have this weird way of making me laugh and then get sad at the same time. Stop being such a pity-party. There’s nothing nickel about you. Okay? You’re as dime as they come.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re obligated by Girl Code to say that, and even believe it, because we’re BFFs. Your brainwaves have already been corrupted by our friendship. It’s like when they made what’s his name actually believe that two plus two equals five in that one book.”
“Sometimes two plus two does equal five. Trust me, I can make the numbers says what I want.” She pokes me. “And you mean Winston Smith, from Big Brother by George Orwell.”
“But I don’t look like his usual models.”
Liesl looks me dead on. “No, you don’t. You’re shorter and sturdier. Your nose doesn’t scream, ‘I just got done by the best plastic surgeon in L.A.’ You don’t have enhanced boobs, and you’re not a size two. But you have the prettiest eyes and hair. Your shape is fine. You have a great smile and the kind of laugh that makes everyone want to join in the joke. You’re fun and interesting. You don’t need to be like those model girls to get a guy. It doesn’t matter that you’re not like them.”
I bite my lip. “But maybe to him it does matter. I don’t want to be his foray into the fascinating new world of regular non-model girls, something he tries out for fun one weekend like me trying, say, sushi or sumo wrestling on Pay Per View. Just for kicks.”
“I think you’re reading too much into this,” Liesl informs me. “Attraction isn’t for kicks. Love happens. And you’re not regular , whatever that means. You’re unique and wonderful.”
I shrug and look away, and I can tell this pisses Liesl off because her voice gets that tone. “Sometimes people come together and stick. And sometimes they come together and drift apart after one or two moments, and it’s not because one of them isn’t Swimsuit Model Of The Year. I mean, think about all those women. If they’re so frickin’ perfect, why are so many of them single? Why do they have men trouble just like us? Why do they drift around hopping from guy to guy, marriage to marriage sometimes, with ugly breakups and stuff? If they were that amazing, wouldn’t they just lock right in to Mr. Perfect Forever?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. All I know is that I wish I was—”
“See, that’s the problem.” Liesl sounds irritated. “You wish, you wish. Either just accept that you are the way you are and learn to love it. Or else, try to change. I mean, if it’s that big a deal to you, then join a gym and go on a crazy diet and sign up for plastic surgery. Which you know is freakin’ unnecessary. Or else, figure out that you’re good the way you are and find a guy who appreciates that.”
“Well, it’s easy to say that. Harder to make your mind believe it.”
“It’s impossible if you don’t try at all.” Liesl give me the coffee back. “So do I have to stop teasing you about him, now? What are you going to do tomorrow when you see him? Are you going to talk about the kissmissal?”
I snort. “You’re so funny. And I have no idea. I’ll see when I get there. I—well, I sort of… flirt with him a lot, too. So maybe it’s
Liesl takes my cup away, because I’m sort of clenching on it and endangering her brocade couch. “Kidding about the rash. But I agree it would be difficult since you’re working together and all. I mean, I like to joke around, but when it comes down to it, you have to make the decision that works for you and your work. Keeping it professional is honestly the safest thing to do here. Maybe wait until the project is done.”
“When the project is done,” I retort. “I won’t be around all day and he’ll forget about me.” I snap my fingers. “Out of sight, out of mind, and he’ll be back to his usual dimes. I’m just an old nickel.”
Liesl laughs and then her faces goes somber. “You have this weird way of making me laugh and then get sad at the same time. Stop being such a pity-party. There’s nothing nickel about you. Okay? You’re as dime as they come.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re obligated by Girl Code to say that, and even believe it, because we’re BFFs. Your brainwaves have already been corrupted by our friendship. It’s like when they made what’s his name actually believe that two plus two equals five in that one book.”
“Sometimes two plus two does equal five. Trust me, I can make the numbers says what I want.” She pokes me. “And you mean Winston Smith, from Big Brother by George Orwell.”
“But I don’t look like his usual models.”
Liesl looks me dead on. “No, you don’t. You’re shorter and sturdier. Your nose doesn’t scream, ‘I just got done by the best plastic surgeon in L.A.’ You don’t have enhanced boobs, and you’re not a size two. But you have the prettiest eyes and hair. Your shape is fine. You have a great smile and the kind of laugh that makes everyone want to join in the joke. You’re fun and interesting. You don’t need to be like those model girls to get a guy. It doesn’t matter that you’re not like them.”
I bite my lip. “But maybe to him it does matter. I don’t want to be his foray into the fascinating new world of regular non-model girls, something he tries out for fun one weekend like me trying, say, sushi or sumo wrestling on Pay Per View. Just for kicks.”
“I think you’re reading too much into this,” Liesl informs me. “Attraction isn’t for kicks. Love happens. And you’re not regular , whatever that means. You’re unique and wonderful.”
I shrug and look away, and I can tell this pisses Liesl off because her voice gets that tone. “Sometimes people come together and stick. And sometimes they come together and drift apart after one or two moments, and it’s not because one of them isn’t Swimsuit Model Of The Year. I mean, think about all those women. If they’re so frickin’ perfect, why are so many of them single? Why do they have men trouble just like us? Why do they drift around hopping from guy to guy, marriage to marriage sometimes, with ugly breakups and stuff? If they were that amazing, wouldn’t they just lock right in to Mr. Perfect Forever?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. All I know is that I wish I was—”
“See, that’s the problem.” Liesl sounds irritated. “You wish, you wish. Either just accept that you are the way you are and learn to love it. Or else, try to change. I mean, if it’s that big a deal to you, then join a gym and go on a crazy diet and sign up for plastic surgery. Which you know is freakin’ unnecessary. Or else, figure out that you’re good the way you are and find a guy who appreciates that.”
“Well, it’s easy to say that. Harder to make your mind believe it.”
“It’s impossible if you don’t try at all.” Liesl give me the coffee back. “So do I have to stop teasing you about him, now? What are you going to do tomorrow when you see him? Are you going to talk about the kissmissal?”
I snort. “You’re so funny. And I have no idea. I’ll see when I get there. I—well, I sort of… flirt with him a lot, too. So maybe it’s
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