Who Do You Like?
A short story by
Nancy Werlin
Who Do You Like?
by Nancy Werlin
Steffie sat on the floor of Olivia’s beige and aqua striped bedroom with her legs outstretched and her back propped up against Olivia’s bureau. Steffie was waiting for the Monday after-school question. And it came, same as always, because Olivia was interested in only one thing, and she was the girl in charge of their little group of five.
“So, who do you like?” Olivia said. She had her recycled paper notebook open, with her feather pen poised in one hand.
This week, Steffie was ready with an answer. She had the name of a new TV actor she’d read about in Teen People. She’d even brought the magazine so they could all see his picture. He was truly gorgeous, so maybe this time she wouldn’t be accused of not trying. Of not caring.
Secretly, of course, she didn’t. Secretly, Steffie had never liked any of the boys she claimed to like on these Mondays at Olivia’s.
Olivia wasn’t looking at Steffie yet. “Marlee? It was Jacob Schubert for you last week.”
“I still like Jacob,” said Marlee. “He’s so cute! Put him down again for me?”
There was a pause.
“Okay,” said Olivia finally. “I will. But you know the rules. You’re only allowed to name the same boy three times. By then, something has to have happened between you and him, or you have to move on.”
Marlee’s forehead creased with thought. She said, as she looked around at all of them, “Well, today in the cafeteria, Jacob smiled at me. So that was something that happened. Wasn’t it?”
Emily and Parvati and Marlee nodded. Steffie hid a smile.
Olivia leaned forward. “Who smiled first?”
“Uh…”
Olivia sighed. “Marlee, listen. You need a plan. You have to make him notice you somehow. Like, last week you said you were going to buy and learn that X-Box game so you’d have something to talk to him about. Did you do it?”
“Uh…”
“Marlee!”
“All right, Olivia,” said Marlee. “I’ll talk to him this week. I promise.”
Yeah, Steffie thought. You’ll say hi and so will he. And that’ll be that.
She glanced across the bedroom to where Parvati was lying across the bottom of Olivia’s bed. Sometimes, Steffie wondered if Parvati was as frustrated and bored by these weekly meetings as Steffie was. Parvati had it easy, though. She had explained to Olivia that her parents wouldn’t allow her to date for many years, if ever. That was the way it was in India, and Parvati’s family was very traditional even though they lived in the U.S. now.
“Then you can just like various boys, Parvati,” Olivia had decided. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“I will keep it to the movie stars,” Parvati had promised, laughing. “That will be safe for me.”
Steffie wished she had a consistently safe option too. But she didn’t come from a traditional Indian culture, and she hadn’t been able to think of another way out. Not without making Olivia mad, anyway. And losing her friends. Her only girlfriends.
Beggars can’t be choosers, thought Steffie. That was something Steffie’s mom said sometimes. Still, Steffie knew her mom wouldn’t have liked knowing that it was what Steffie thought about her new school friends.
There wasn’t anything really wrong with Olivia and Marlee and Parvati and Emily, Steffie thought. They were nice girls. They were some of the nicest girls in the sixth grade and she was lucky they’d been so welcoming when she’d moved to town a few months ago. If they hadn’t been, she’d know nobody except Quentin Karas next door. Unfortunately, Quentin was socially unacceptable. Dorky. And, of course, a boy. Steffie was lucky that Olivia and her group had accepted her.