THE RULES

Natalie Thompson

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     I plopped on my bed and pressed play on my CD box. Stupid day, stupid friends, and stupid boys. Like it mattered to me that Mark, the only boy I had been slightly interested in my whole entire life, walked right past me to the desk of my best friend and asked her how a date on Saturday would make her feel. I gagged. What a stupid boy with stupid pick-up lines and stupid ways of showing how stupid he was.

    I switched my CD's around so I could listen to Peter, Paul and Mary because the least I could do was think of world peace right now. It didn't work. They went on about leaving on a jet plane and leaving the one they loved. Pathetic. All these people in love as if they had nothing better to do. I had something better to do. I couldn't just sit around pining for love like everyone else could. I flopped open my literature book and read, "Figurative Language: Saying more than what you mean." I understood. It was like when that boy in the hall said his girlfriend had eyes like diamonds when all she had were two large lumps of mud. She smiled though, and I knew the purpose of his figurative language was to seduce her. Everyone I knew got seduced. I started reading the first poem. The poem was about a man's coy mistress. Sure, I bet the man was trying to make her feel coy when she probably winked as if there were dust in her contact and walked as though there were a dog tied to her foot.  I chucked the book across the room.

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      I lay down. Mary was trying to convince me that I wanted to be seduced too, but I didn't have to take it. I flicked my stereo off and looked to my bookcase. Wuthering Heights, love. Jane Eyre, love. Tale of Two Cities, more love. Their Eyes Were Watching God, the epitome of love. The Rules, as in sociological or political rules? Hmm. I pulled the book out. The Rules: Time-tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right. Right, as if Miss Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider knew all the secrets to a man's heart. How did this book get onto my bookshelf anyway? Mom would just have to give up her campaign to get me on a date before I graduated. Ridiculous. I set the book down. Like I really cared about dating. And like that book could actually help me. I wasn’t looking for Mr. Right. I wasn’t even looking for Mr. Wrong. I wasn’t even looking. I picked the book back up again. Maybe I was.

     Rule #1: Be a creature unlike any other. No problem there. I hadn’t heard of any other girl in the school who had dated as little as I.

     Rule #3: Don’t stare at men and don’t talk too much. I would work on that. I mean, stop staring and start talking.

     Rule #5: Don’t call him and rarely return his calls. Sounded good to me. I guess if a guy called me, I could initiate that one.

     Rule #6: Always end phone calls first. That would refer back to number five. Keep it in storage.

     Rule #7: Don’t accept a Saturday date after Wednesday. Another one for storage. Oh, extra tips: wait five seconds before answering yes when a guy asks you out and remember that any man would be lucky to have you. Hmm, this book was ridiculous. A simple little book couldn’t erase all the dating voodoo that was dumped on my life or other’s. Besides, any man would be lucky to have me. I didn’t need a book to tell me that. I knew you shouldn’t stare at boys and that you shouldn’t talk too much. I knew that I was a creature unlike any other. In fact, I was the most marvelous I had ever seen. I could sing louder than Joan Baez and strum faster than Bob Dylan. I was a good egg. The phone rang.

     I eyed the phone. It was a Thursday night, and all my friends were home doing literature like me. I slowly stood and approached it.

     “Hello?” I answered, with more hesitancy than any Rules girl.

     “Hi,” said the voice. I gasped. It was a boy.

     “Oh, um, hi. Yeah, hi.” Just remember, I thought, I am a creature unlike any other, and any man would love to have me.

     “Is Lauren there?” the voice asked. He was calling for me.

     “Oh, yeah, she is. I mean, this is she.”

     “Hi, Lauren, this is Kevin. I don’t know if you know me, but I’m a friend of Mark.”

     Mark, the weasel who suddenly found my best friend the most attractive thing on the planet. Oh yes, I knew Mark. This Kevin, however, was a little fuzzy.

     “I was just calling to, uh, well… I was just wondering if, uh, Saturday night is coming, and, hmm. Do you have plans Saturday night?”

     I paused, but not because it was the right Rules thing to do. I didn’t know if I had plans on Saturday night. I didn’t even know if I still would be alive Saturday night.

     “Lauren, are you there?”

     “Um, of course, I just need to get my planner out because I’m not really sure what I’m doing Saturday. Pretty weird, huh? Well, that’s me, weird and unique and unlike any creature in this universe!” I gasped. I couldn’t believe I had just said that. Don’t babble, I remembered, and never confess that you know you are unique; he must see that you are unique. Stupid, stupid.

     Kevin laughed. It sounded like a pretty normal laugh. Some guys could disguise their laugh though. I had better stay on my guard.

     “You don’t think this is weird, do you? I mean, me asking you out? I mean, I know you don’t know me real well, and…”

     “No, I said, “no, I don’t think you’re weird.” However, he was a creature unlike any other, seeing as no other had ever asked me out before.

     “I’ve been meaning to do this for awhile, but I didn’t have the nerve. This is my first time doing anything like this.”

     “Oh really,” I said nonchalantly. “I remember the first time that a boy asked me out. I was a nervous wreck.” I was a nervous wreck. But the Rules would keep me in line and on the path to capturing his heart.

     “Oh,” was all he said.

     I speedily flipped for the rule that would apply to me at this very instant, but then I saw it. Rule #7. Don’t accept a date for Saturday after Wednesday. I looked to my planner. It was Thursday night. There was no way I could accept this date.

     “Do you know what?” I started with the intention of telling him I couldn’t go, but then I stopped. Why couldn’t I? This wasn’t some philosophical dilemma; I could say yes and no damage would be done. But what if there were? What if the Rules did constitute whether I was to gain his heart and whether he would ever call me back again? But that was ridiculous. He certainly would never call me back if I said no. All I could do was say yes and not even care about the Rules. Not all the girls who went on dates had the Rules. Or maybe they did.

     I could sleep on it and tell him if I could go or not tomorrow. A Rules girl would do that, keep him in suspense and all.

     “What? Lauren? What were you going to say, did I know…”

     “Oh, I was just going to ask if you knew if the Broncos won the game tonight?” Shoot, were the Broncos really a team?

     “Oh. I didn’t know the Broncos were playing. Do you like football?”

     “Oh yes. I’m a football freak. Love everything about it.”

     “A freak, ay? Hmm. Yeah, well, aren’t we all?”

     I heard a muffled cough through the receiver.

     “So, can you go or not? I don’t think you ever really answered me.”

     I had to end this conversation and end it fast. Kevin was beginning to lose interest in me. I couldn’t call him back. That was a direct violation of Rule #5, but how could I answer him now?

     “Look, Lauren, I kind of need to go. Maybe we can just hold off till some other time…”

     I trembled. Maybe I would follow the Rules some other time when it mattered to me. It was high school. I was going to have fun.

     “Wait, Kevin, I can go. What time will you pick me up?

     There was a long silence and then, “Are you sure you want to go? I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to go just say so.”

     I slowly hung up the phone and stared at the wall. I should have followed the Rules.