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seems like there are tons of them around here on vacation just like us…”
    “True,” I agreed, thinking of our hot next-door neighbor, whatever his name was.
    “And we’ll just have one of those painstakingly sad brief summer love affairs—”
    I laughed. “You’ve been watching too many movies,” I said. “That doesn’t happen in real life.”
    “What do you know about real life, anyway? You’ve been stuck in a dance studio the past five years,” Heather teased.
    “Hm. You might have something there,” I agreed.
    “You have perfect posture and positions, and like, no dates,” Heather said. “Am I right?”
    “Well, you don’t have to make me sound that pathetic,” I replied with a laugh.
    She laughed, too. “Hey, I’m only saying that because I know that’s how I was withgymnastics. I spent every summer at gymnastics camp, every afternoon training…I loved it, but it puts some serious limits on your social life.”
    “True.” I remembered wishing I didn’t have so many commitments, that I had time to just hang out at the mall and boy-shop with my friends.
    “Anyway. This will be something short, just a fling. It’s not something that you’re going to continue, like a relationship or whatever. I mean, I guess if it worked out, and you didn’t live completely on other sides of the country—but be realistic. We’re going off to college and we’re not going to be tied down to some guy who isn’t even there .”
    I stopped walking and looked at her. “Wow. You have thought about this a lot. Did you map out the whole thing, like what we say and when we say it?” Because I can use that kind of help, I thought. A sheet of instructions. No, a booklet. And a website with updates.
    “Shut up, it was a long plane ride this morning. I had time,” she said. “So. We’ll get startedfirst thing tomorrow. What we need to do is meet some guys and—”
    “I already met someone,” I admitted.
    “Are you kidding?” She pushed me. “When?”
    “Right when we were leaving tonight! I almost got my head cut off by a Frisbee, but it was worth it, because I met the guy next door. Really nice. He loaned me this sweatshirt.”
    “So that’s where you got it,” she said, nodding. “ Really. Well, this sounds promising! So what was his name?”
    “Name? Well, um…”
    “You didn’t get his name ?” Heather demanded.
    “I didn’t tell him my name, either, so—”
    “And that makes it right ?”
    “He’s staying next door to us. We’ll see him again.”
    “Still. You ask a guy’s name. It lets them know you’re interested. I mean, are you with me, or not?”
    “Fine. I’ll get his name first thing tomorrow,” I promised.
    I wasn’t planning to tell Heather how clueless I was about dating, but I didn’t think I’d need to. She could tell.
    To tell the truth, I was starting to think that I’d head to college without ever having had a real boyfriend—and a date at the seventh-grade dance didn’t count.
    That sounded so, so wrong. And so very, very likely.
    But it wasn’t as if I’d tried to be single. Forever. It just worked out that way. And it wasn’t only the Spencer incident, where I’d failed miserably.
    When I was a junior, there was this one British guy I totally loved named Gavin. He moved. To Arizona. I mean, what were his parents thinking, moving to Arizona, when he’s British? For some reason he belonged more in Wisconsin. Because of me, because I was there. Not that I ever managed to talk to him for more than ten minutes, and not that I ever had the nerve to ask him out. But still, I loved him. Deeply.
    Then, on a more serious note, there was myfriend Terence, who lived down the block and who I used to spend all my time with. At one point senior year I realized that I loved him also. Like, in the way that you shouldn’t love a guy who’s essentially your best friend. I kept trying to tell him how I felt, but I couldn’t, and then he went out with my friend