The Oracle Rebounds

Oracle: The past can’t be changed. If you’re sure that you want to give him another chance, then you have no choice but to rebuild the trust that was lost. Otherwise, you’ll just be torturing yourself.

Cheerlead4ever: He’s not helping any. He thinks I call and text him too much.

Oracle: That’s too bad. If he wants to rebuild your trust, he should accept that you’ll be suspicious of him, at least for a while.

Cheerlead4ever: I don’t think he’s concerned about rebuilding my trust. He just expects me to trust him, just like that!

Oracle: He doesn’t sound very mature.

Cheerlead4ever: You’re right about that!

Oracle: Then the Oracle must ask you: why do you feel you have to be with him?

Cheerlead4ever: Everybody knows we belong together. Even he knows it.

Oracle: Why do you belong with a guy who’s cheated on you? Don’t you deserve better?

Cheerlead4ever: Of course I do. I’m just waiting for him to figure that out.

Oracle: If this guy is immature, it could be a long time before he figures it out. Or he may never figure it out. Are you willing to put your happiness in his hands?

Cheerlead4ever: Yes, Oracle, I am. Now, can you tell me ways to figure out if he’s cheating on me or not?

This girl really doesn’t get it. I give her some tips, and by the end of the chat, she seems satisfied that she got what she came for. Once we disconnect, I sit there for a few moments, wondering how anyone can be so obsessed with keeping a cheating boyfriend. The more she told me about him, the scuzzier he seemed. Yet for her, breaking up was not an option.

Far better be single than in a relationship where there isn’t trust.

I trusted Jared completely. Until he broke my heart.

Haven’t Been Single for a While? Give It a Try!

Now I admit it—the Oracle of Dating is as guilty as anyone of extolling the merits of being in a relationship. I mean, it’s the Oracle of Dating, not the Oracle of Singledom. Nevertheless, the Oracle believes that being single is not only a healthy place to be, it’s essential for a person’s growth. It’s a state not to be reviled, but appreciated. And the fact is, being single is downright fun.

Yes, fun. Because being single puts you in a realm where the familiar is replaced by mystery. Who knows who you’ll meet at the party Friday night? Who knows what new guy will show up at your school?

So whether you decide it’s time to break up with your boyfriend, or whether he’s made the decision for you, don’t despair. There are infinite romantic possibilities awaiting you…and if you need any help, the Oracle of Dating is always here.

I post the blog with a satisfied nod. I can’t believe I haven’t written more blogs about being single in the past. I’ve spent most of my postpubescent life single so I should know a lot about it. I’ll have to write more about the joys of singledom in the coming days. And if Jared surfs by the website, all the better—he’ll figure I’m happy without him.

“You’ll have to free up your schedule next week,” Mom says at the dinner table as she’s twirling spaghetti around her fork.

“Why?” All sorts of unpleasant possibilities run through my brain. Pie-making with the church ladies? Teen Bible study? Sunday-school nursery duty?

“We have a French exchange student coming,” Mom says, too cheerful to be trusted.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Mrs. Martin called from the school. They’ve been having a hard time finding homes for the exchange students. I thought it would be nice if we helped out.” She gives an innocent smile, but I know this must be part of some devious plan. For a holy woman, Mom can be downright wicked.

I look to the Swede for help, but his expression is annoyingly cheerful.

“How could you do this without asking me? You know I’ve been down lately. I don’t want to have to show some French girl around.” I could see it now: hours in gray museums, endless lineups for tourist attractions. “How long will she be here for anyway?”

“Two weeks.” Mom dabs the side of her mouth with a napkin. “And it’s not a girl. His name is Benoit and he’s seventeen. We thought you’d be okay with that.” She and Erland exchange a look.

“Are you serious? You’re letting some strange French guy in the house for two weeks! What if he tries to assault me?”

I can tell Mom and Erland are trying not to laugh. Okay, fine, I’m being a bit of a drama queen, but still. A French guy in our house? There’s no telling what sort of European debauchery could happen.

“I’ll ask him not to assault you, dear,” she says. “We don’t know for a fact that he’s strange. Anyway, I think it will be good for you.”

“I have to entertain him for two whole weeks! That’s just cruel.”

“You won’t have to be with him every day, honey. His teachers will have plenty of activities planned. But it would be nice if you took him out a few times.”

“You have not been going out much lately,” Erland points out. “Now is your chance. Show Benoit the city. You would be great at that. We will give you money toward it.”

Mom smiles. “Don’t you think it’s about time you had some fun?”

You know you need to get a life when:

  You check your email dozens of times a day, hoping to hear from your ex-boyfriend—the same ex-boyfriend who hasn’t said more than two words to you since you broke up.

  Your parents have to fly you in a companion from overseas.

  Your mom buys you a bunch of teen romance novels when she used to tell you to go to the library instead.

  Your stepdad looks up your horoscope without you even asking him, and says you will find new romance soon. (C’mon, Erland!)

I don’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though, because a situation arises that demands my attention. I’m on the phone with my older sister, Tracey, when she says, “Guess what? I’m going to try online dating! I signed up on Lavalife and Match.com.”

Uh-oh, this is not my area of expertise. When I think of online dating, I think of freaks, perverts, stalkers.

A little background on Tracey: she’s amazing. Really, she’s the best sister ever, and she actually likes having me as a little sister. Problem is, she’s had bad luck with guys since…well, forever. Tracey hasn’t dated much in the past few months. Around the time I got together with Jared, she had a relationship relapse with her ex. After that, she took a few months off dating, but has emerged again, slowly and cautiously. I was intent on setting her up with Jared’s gorgeous and spiritual social worker, Rodrigo, but as soon as Tracey decided she was ready to date again, it turned out Rodrigo had a new girlfriend. Talk about timing.

And now this. Internet dating. How can I give her advice when I know so little about it?

“Kayla? Are you there?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“Corinne met the sweetest guy online last month. She’s talked me into signing up.”

“Cool, but you’ve got to give me a minute to wrap my mind around this. The whole idea scares me. You hear about women getting stalked by people they’ve met online.”

“They get stalked by people they meet other places, too. But you’re right, I’ll have to be careful. It’s still worth exploring. I’ve known a bunch of people who’ve met their mates online. Mark at work met his wife through a site years ago, and that was in the early days of online dating. Now there are thousands of potential guys. Mom says that at least half of the couples in her marriage prep courses meet that way.”

“Maybe I should try it, too.” The word rebound flashes in my mind with neon lights.

“Don’t you dare. You’re too young. And there’s no need. When you’re in high school and college, there are loads of opportunities to meet guys. It’s afterward that things dry up.”

“Don’t worry, Trace. I’m not going to look for a guy online. But you’re right that it’s worth a shot for you. Let me do a little research before you go on any dates, okay?”

“Yay! But hurry—I’ve already started chatting with a couple of guys, and it’s only a matter of time before we go out.”

Talk about a fire under my butt!

Over the next couple of days, I plunge into the world of online dating. I spend hours surfing the internet for articles, and I check out a bunch of dating websites.

In the end, I come up with:

The Dos and Don’ts of Online Dating

The Dos:

  Do put up a realistic photo. Sure, replacing your picture with a supermodel will get a guy’s attention, but do you really want to see the disappointment in his eyes when he sees the real you?

  Do look good—but don’t go over the top. If you dress up too fancy or wear too much makeup, he may wonder why you’re putting so much effort in.

  Do trust your instincts. If you get a bad vibe from him, then don’t spend much time with him and don’t tell him many details about your life.

The Don’ts:

  Don’t give out your phone number or call him until after you’ve met him, unless you have a block up so he can’t see your phone number.

  Don’t meet on a Friday or Saturday night. Those nights are prized, and people generally stay out later, which makes it awkward if it’s a bad date and you want to go home early.

  Don’t give him your full name until after he’s met your approval. Create a separate email account for guys you meet online.

  Don’t let your date see where you live.

  Don’t get into his car.

There must be more, but that’s all I can put together for now. I hope it’s enough to save Tracey from potential predators. I email her the blog and post it on my website, and none too soon. It turns out Tracey intends to go on a coffee date on Saturday afternoon with a guy who calls himself “Iced Mocha.” I am beside myself with anticipation. I offer to go to the café and keep an eye on things, but she says no, that would make her more nervous.

Too bad, because I’d love to put on a hat and sunglasses and play the spy. On second thought, maybe Mom and Erland were right; I need to get out more.

four

11 Days into Rebound Equation

Wednesday-morning pep rally. I’m sitting with my friends at the back of the gym. Sports teams are strutting in front of us while silly mascots are jumping and clapping, as if we care. We would totally sneak out if the teachers weren’t watching the doors. It’s not that I hate my school, but I don’t feel a major allegiance to it. Which I suppose isn’t good, considering I’m on student council.

“You wouldn’t believe what my mom did,” I say. “It’s totally heinous.”

“She read your diary!” Sharese says.

“I don’t have a diary.”

“She caught you sexting!” Amy declares.

“I don’t sext. That’s your thing.”

My friends are poised for the news. When I say the words exchange student, they shake their heads in disgust.

“I hope you guys will help me entertain him. You will, right?”

“Him?” Amy’s eyebrows go up. “Your mom is awesome.” The wave comes our way and we fling our arms upward. “She’s obviously hoping to get you some action.”

“Yeah, right! That is so not my mom.”

“That is so your mom. She knows you need a man. We all know it.”

“Well, I did find it odd that she’s letting him sleep in my room.” I watch their eyes widen. “I’m kidding!”

“My parents would never allow a guy who’s not family to stay at my house,” Viv says. “Especially a French guy. Don’t they all sleep around over there?”

“You can’t generalize like that,” Amy says. “You can only generalize that French guys are skinny. But Kayla doesn’t mind skinny.”

“Maybe I do. It depends on the guy.”

I refrain from saying that Jared wasn’t skinny, he was all lean muscle. I scan the gym, spotting Jared with a couple of guys and a girl at the other end. The girl is a senior named Chelsea Yang. Pretty. Cheerleader. Debate club.

Oh, my God. Chelsea Yang is moving in! My girl radar is certain of it.

I feel a hand on my arm. It’s Viv. She knows what I’m thinking.

So does Ryan. “You’ve raised his market value, Kayla. Before you, Chelsea never would’ve been interested. But you’ve made him an acceptable choice.”

“I did?” I am not cool with this. I took a chance on him, and now other girls know that he’s boyfriend material? No, thank you.

“I bet Chelsea’s been waiting for you to break up this whole time,” Amy says.

“But why would she be interested in Jared? Wasn’t she dating Michael from student council for ages? Jared isn’t her type.”

“He wasn’t your type either, or so you thought,” Sharese says. “Things change.”

“I can’t believe this.” Somehow my relationship with Jared has made him a desirable dating choice.

“She’s no you, Kayla,” Viv says. “Remember that.”

“Thanks.” But the bleak future is flashing before my eyes. Jared will get together with Chelsea. She will be less clingy, less melodramatic, and an altogether better girlfriend than I was. They will go to prom together, elope to Vegas, then go off to college and share one of those married couple dorm rooms which I’ve always thought were so cozy and romantic.

This line of thought is not working for me. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I get up quickly before one of my friends can offer to join me.

I hurry there, expecting to burst into tears. But the tears don’t come. Sadness seems to be locked in my throat. I’m standing at the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. How could you do this to me, Jared, when you promised to never hurt me?

I force myself to breathe in and out until I feel calm again. I finally straighten and leave the bathroom. When I go back into the gym, I refuse to look in Jared’s direction. Rebound, I tell myself. I’ve got to move on.

That night I write a blog called A Viable Option, discussing the idea that who you’re seen dating determines who will consider dating you next. I’m still reeling at the fact that go-getter Chelsea Yang may be going for Jared.

Or was she around the whole time? Were she and Jared secretly friends, just waiting for me to be out of the picture before they became more?

I try to banish the thought. Unless I’m faced with evidence to the contrary, I’m going to believe Jared didn’t dump me for another girl.

Still, I have to wonder about what Ryan said—that I somehow raised Jared’s stature by dating him for so long. But why? He dated Brooke before me, the most popular girl in school. She’s the one who made him a viable option, not me.

Or maybe not. She dumped him, claiming he was a jerk for demanding sex. But the truth was, it was just a ploy to make her break up with him. I suppose Jared might’ve remained a dating no-no if I hadn’t scooped him up after that.

When you think about it, the fact that Jared and I stayed together for six months showed Chelsea and all the other girls at school that Jared was a keeper. And, damn it, we probably looked happy. Because we were happy. At least, I thought we were. I still don’t know when that changed.

I wish it worked both ways. I wish there was a group of gorgeous, dangerous (but not really) guys waiting for Jared and me to break up so they could ask me out. But no one has, and frankly, that type of guy doesn’t seem to exist except in Jared.

Thank God for my business. At least I have something to focus my energies on. I decide that instead of draining my bank account on paid advertising, I’ll visit some teen blogs. I contact several popular sites. Within a few days I hear back from most of them, and five say they’d be happy to have me. Four of them ask me to write guest blogs, and the fifth asks me to answer a question submitted by a reader.

I start work on the four blogs. None of them has given me a deadline, but I’d like to put all of them out over the next month. The blogger who asked me to answer a reader’s question puts out an open call for questions for the Oracle of Dating. Her website, teenmoi, must be really popular, because I get an extra sixty hits the day she mentions me in her blog.

When Amy tells me about a house party happening on Friday night, I decide it’s time to leave the computer and go out for a change. And then I find out that my friends can’t go. At least, Ryan and Sharese can’t go. Viv isn’t interested. She can’t see why we’d go to a party when we don’t even know Tara Franklin, the senior who’s hosting it.

Thankfully, Viv responds to pressure. So I tell her how I really need to get out and how it would be awkward to go with just Amy and Chad, and Viv caves. Booyah!

“You have to introduce Kayla and Viv to your soccer buddies,” Amy says to Chad on the subway there.

“No probs.” Chad is an easygoing guy with a cute face and soccer bod. He seems happy to leave it to Amy to do all the talking and decision-making. I’ve never really understood why he and Amy have been together so long—it must be two years by now. I think the passion wore off a while ago. Plus, Amy often flirts with other guys, and sometimes takes it into the realm of cheating. I don’t know why she has a boyfriend when she seems to enjoy playing the field so much.

I check my hair and makeup in my compact. I braved the straightening iron—something I don’t do lightly—and successfully glammed up my makeup without looking like a showgirl. The hour I spent putting myself together was worth it. I’ll be able to walk into the party with confidence.

Tara’s house is on a swanky block in Brooklyn Heights. When we get there it’s around ten, and the place is pumping. A random kid answers the door. The inside of the house is posh, with mainly black furniture, white walls and expensive-looking artwork. I can’t imagine why anyone who lives in such a nice place would have a house party, since the term itself is synonymous with destruction. But that’s not my problem.

We’re instantly swept into the crowd. I find myself surrounded by beer bottles and people I vaguely know. I’m glad that Viv is by my side because Amy and Chad have gone missing. Rock is blaring from speakers throughout the house, making it difficult for us to hear each other.

Amy and Chad are back, slipping cold beers into our hands. I nod my head to the music. Half a beer later, I’m slipping into a happy mood where nothing can touch me.

Okay, maybe not. I spot Jared’s friend Tom in the kitchen with his girlfriend. We say hi, and that’s it. But it sucks because Jared’s in my head now. I wonder if there’s any chance he’ll show up tonight. Maybe he will, now that he’s newly single. I half hope he will, because I want him to see that I’m out having fun.

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