Scientific Method: a body of techniques for investigating phenomena and acquiring new knowledge.
STEP 1: Observe Phenomena and Define Questions
There’s probably a point at the beginning of any relationship where everything is absolutely perfect. It feels like being inside a bubble, all sparkle and rainbows.
That’s what it’s like for Joey and me right now. We spend every possible moment together, often in transit between school, work and home. Sometimes I can’t remember how we got from A to B, although I can recall every word of our conversation, what he wore, what I wore, what we ate, the music we heard, and how I felt when I saw him waiting beside my locker.
It’s beautiful. And it can’t last. Before long, something or someone will burst the bubble. The only reason we’ve escaped so far is that Paz is filling in for another shift lead on straight days, Grace is spending a few days at a friend’s place, and Mariah is too caught up with being Mariah to notice us.
Meanwhile, each day is better than the last. It’s as if neither of us can say or do the wrong thing. Every word Joey says is fascinating to me and, miraculously, he seems to feel the same. And somehow, impossibly, he gets cuter every time I see him. I love his eyes, his hair and his smile – and especially his hands, with the two crooked fingers caused by an accident at the factory. Oddly, it’s the tiny imperfections that make this feel more solid, as if it can last in the real world after the bubble bursts.
I know that time will tell if we’re meant to be together, but like anyone else in this situation, I’m looking for an easy answer. Is there a sign? A test? How do you know when you’ve found the one?
STEP 2: Gather Information and Resources
I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the movies, and now I’m talking to people who’ve actually been there. Since my own life doesn’t offer many examples of successful relationships, I’ve taken my search for answers to Dan’s Diner, where people are usually willing to open up if I keep pouring the coffee. I put my question to a row of women sitting at the counter.
‘Honey, you’ll just know,’ says Mrs Cortez, happily married to the owner of the tile store up the street for ten years. ‘It took me about a week with Leo.’
‘Was there a sign?’ I press.
Her smile is half nostalgic, half embarrassed. ‘I had a strange feeling whenever he kissed me. Something I hadn’t felt with anyone else.’
‘Exactly,’ says Mrs Olivera, who works in human resources at Donner’s. ‘That’s how I knew. It’s chemistry.’
Mrs Evans, married for twenty-six years, pushes her cup forward for another refill. ‘You’ll know. Trust us.’
‘Dan?’ I ask. ‘How did you know with your ex-wife?’
‘Don’t bring me into this,’ he says, escaping to the kitchen.
‘But I want a guy’s point of view,’ I call after him.
He sticks his head into the pass-through. ‘If you must know, it hit me like a lightning bolt to the boxer shorts.’
STEP 3: Formulate Hypothesis.
I close Joey’s textbook and slide it back to his side of the table as he arrives at our booth with a tray.
‘You can do my homework while you’re at it,’ he says, placing a plate of fries in front of me.
‘Just curious,’ I say, pouring a pool of ketchup onto the plate. ‘I’m thinking of taking chemistry next year.’
He sits down across from me and grins. ‘Good idea. I can teach you everything I know.’
Dipping a fry into my ketchup, he feeds it to me. Then he leans across the table and kisses the ketchup from my mouth.
Even sitting in the middle of a busy diner, my stomach drops and the wind picks up in my head when Joey’s lips touch mine. That has to mean something.
Hypothesis: A kiss can reveal your destiny.
STEP 4: Experiment and Collect Data
Joey wraps his arm around me as we walk out of the second-run movie theater. It’s a cold night, but I feel a rush of warmth as we stroll down the street analyzing our favorite scenes from Almost Famous. We agree on all of them. That happens a lot, but we’re not exactly alike. Joey, for example, always puts his iPod on shuffle, whereas I prefer to play an album straight through. Similarly, he often mixes several foods on his fork, whereas I prefer to savor one thing at a time.
Still, it seems as if we have the important things in common. For example, we both worry about our parents and want to succeed in life so that we can make them proud. We both fight with our sisters a lot, and we generally lose.
Joey points to a copy of Great Expectations as we pass a bookstore window. ‘That’s a great book. Has Sparling assigned it yet?’
‘Still stuck on Mount Olympus.’ I tell him about Mr Sparling’s latest class assignment, in which we had to pretend that a god is retiring and write a letter to Zeus explaining why we’d be the perfect replacement.
Joey laughs. ‘We did that too. Let me guess … You chose Athena.’
‘Wrong.’ No need to explain that taking over the role of the virgin goddess has lost some appeal. Although Athena has many fine qualities, it’s the gods who get around that seem to have the most fun. ‘I chose Hephaestus, God of—’
‘Fire,’ he supplies. ‘I chose Hephaestus too. Something else we have in common.’
‘The list is getting longer every day,’ I say.
‘Plus we share my new favorite pastime.’
‘Which is?’
He leans down to kiss me and the street noise fades into the background, replaced by the sound of wind whipping through tall buildings.
STEP 5: Perform Vigorous Field Tests
Joey points to my head and asks, ‘Can I borrow that?’
He’s referring to his hat, which has been in my possession for over a week. I’ve kept it not because the hat is particularly cool, but because every time I put it on, I get a muted hit of the same feeling I get when he kisses me. ‘It is yours.’
He puts the hat on the little snowman we built from the first snow of the season and frowns. ‘He still needs a nose.’
‘We’ll give him the gift of smell on the way home. Otherwise, we’re going to be late for school.’
‘Check your backpack,’ Joey says. ‘I’ll bet there’s something we could use.’
As it happens, I have a churro in my lunch bag that would make a perfect nose, but I love Izzy’s mom’s donuts too much to sacrifice it for a snowman. Clutching my backpack closer, I say, ‘There isn’t.’
Joey’s eyes narrow. ‘Luisa’s hiding something, isn’t she? Open up. Or else.’
I turn to run, and a snowball hits me between the shoulders. In seconds, Joey catches up and pushes me over into the snow.
Who wins?’ he asks, hovering over me.
‘I do,’ I say, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him closer. This time the wind in my head is warm and soothing.
STEP 6: Repeat Experiment to Ensure Predictable Results
‘For the love of Pete, would you pay attention?’
Joey and I pull away from each other and look around the empty bus. ‘Huh?’
The driver peers over his shoulder at us. ‘Is the bus moving?’
As a matter of fact, it is not. It is idling at my stop.
‘I don’t get paid enough to babysit love-struck puppies,’ the driver grumbles as we scurry toward the door. ‘Any clothes come off and I’m charging you double.’
STEP 7: Analyze Data
Staring at me through his zoom lens, Joey says, ‘That hat looks better on you.’
I summon a stiff smile, discovering that it’s much easier to be flattered when both feet are firmly on the ground. At the moment we’re about 150 feet above it at the apex of the Ferris wheel’s climb.
When Joey asked me to come to Navy Pier so that he could take some photographs for his urban development project, I expected to be an observer, not a participant.
He leans to one side to get a different angle, and the car rocks. I scream.
‘Afraid of heights?’ he asks, a grin appearing under his camera.
I nod silently, my lips too cold to form words.
Joey lowers his camera and slides closer to me – slowly, so as not to rock the car. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, wrapping an arm around me. ‘You seemed fine at the Hancock Center, so I thought you’d be cool with this. Why didn’t you say something?’
I offer a slight shrug in response. Obviously I’m not going to tell him the truth, which is that I’d say yes to a ride in the space shuttle if he asked me.
‘I want us to have the kind of relationship where we can tell each other anything,’ Joey says. ‘Don’t you?’
Relationship? I love that word! Relationship means exclusive. It’s just the two of us in our little red car, 150 feet above the ordinary citizens of Chicago – the desperate lonely people who are not in a relationship with Joey Carella.
‘Don’t you?’ Joey repeats. ‘Want to share everything, I mean?’
I nod. That’s exactly what I want. I’ve told him so much about myself already, even some things I’ve never shared with Izzy and Rachel. For example, I told him about my one and only memory of my father, who swung me so high in our basement apartment that I cracked a Styrofoam ceiling tile with my head. Although it didn’t hurt that much, I cried, and Grace made fun of me, and our father got mad at us both. It’s not a story I’d feel comfortable telling my friends, because their families are normal; but Joey understands. He has worse memories about his family than I have, and he’s told me about some of them.
Squeezing me tighter, Joey says, ‘Close your eyes and try to forget about where you are. The ride will be over in five minutes. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can’t do something about those blue lips of yours.’
The moment I feel the warmth of his lips on mine, the fear retreats. The wind still rocks the Ferris wheel car, but it’s familiar now, more exhilarating than terrifying.
STEP 8: Draw Conclusions
I follow Joey to the river, marveling over the size of the crowd. ‘I can’t believe you come here every year.’
‘I can’t believe you don’t,’ he counters. ‘The Magnificent Mile Lights Festival is one of Chicago’s great traditions.’
‘But it’s so … touristy.’
‘Because it’s so … fun,’ he says.
As the firework display begins, Joey pulls a thermos out of his backpack.
‘What, no whip?’ I joke as he hands me a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
‘Patience, my lady.’ He gropes in his bag and produces a can of whipping cream. A few people turn and smile at the squelching sound as he fills my mug. He points the nozzle at the first explosion of color and light in the sky. ‘I figured this was a pretty good way to celebrate.’
I stare at him, puzzled. ‘Celebrate what?’
‘You forgot our three-week anniversary?’ He pretends to be hurt.
‘No, I thought we weren’t counting because you ignored weeks one and two.’
He shakes his head with mock sadness. ‘We’re arguing already. What’s going to happen when we’re counting in years?’
He said years! I pull Joey to me and kiss him. I don’t even care if two dozen people are watching us instead of the sky.
We sip our drinks in silence for a few moments and then I ask, ‘Would you mind trying that again? I’m testing a theory.’
Joey obligingly kisses me. ‘Did you get what you need?’
I nod happily. It turns out the answer was there all along, but I couldn’t hear it until the wind subsided.
Conclusion: Luisa and Joey are meant to be together.
STEP 9: Report Findings
‘He’s my soul mate,’ I proclaim, leading my friends into Bebe.
Rachel smiles. ‘So you’ve said.’
We’ve been shopping for several hours at Water Tower Place, and it’s fair to say that I’m boring them with my tales of Joey.
‘Well he is,’ I insist. ‘Don’t you believe in soul mates?’
‘Sure,’ Rachel says. ‘The Yiddish word for it is beshert.’
‘Well, Joey’s my shirt. I’m telling you, there were fireworks.’
‘You were at the lights festival,’ Izzy says. ‘The fireworks were real.’
I start to comb through the racks. ‘I put my theory through rigorous testing.’
‘Which explains why we’ve barely heard from you,’ Rachel says.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘But now that I know where I stand with Joey, I can relax and get back to business as usual.’
It isn’t quite business as usual, though, because there’s a boyfriend in the equation now. Not a Future Boyfriend but a Current Boyfriend and hopefully a Forever Boyfriend. Still, I’m not the type to neglect my friends for a guy for long. Joey may be my soul mate, but he isn’t going to help me shop for something to wear to the Literacy Gala. It’s only two weeks away, and Mom gave me a hundred dollars last night to buy something special. I felt a little sick about taking it, knowing it amounts to almost a day’s wages, but she insisted, and I succumbed. This is a big event, and if I choose wisely I’ll be able to wear my new outfit again and again. Now that I am both a girlfriend and a columnist, there could be lots of events in my future.
Choosing wisely turns out to be the challenge. I’m trying to find an outfit that’s hip and sexy, classy and professional – and a reasonable price. Everything we’ve seen so far has either been insanely expensive or skanky.
‘What’s your beshert wearing to the gala?’ Rachel asks, heading to the discount rack.
‘Actually, I haven’t invited him,’ I say, holding up a flimsy dress. ‘I can bring only four guests, and that’s my mom, Grace, and you two.’
‘I thought Buzzkill said you could bring Dan too,’ Izzy says.
‘Okay, five. But I figure I’ve used up my favors.’
Rachel stops picking over the sales rack to stare at me. ‘I’m sure she’d want you to bring your soul mate, Newshound. All you have to do is ask.’
I drop the flimsy dress on the floor, but Rachel is still staring at me after I retrieve it.
‘You haven’t told him,’ she says.
‘You haven’t told him?’ Izzy echoes. ‘But you’ve been welded to his side for weeks.’
I throw out my only defense, knowing I’m going down. ‘It’s a secret column.’
Rachel turns away. ‘A secret that all your closest friends know about. Your soul mate might feel left out.’
‘You said Joey wants the kind of relationship where you tell each other everything,’ Izzy adds.
‘I left it too long. Joey and I have already confided in each other about so many other things that it’s going to be really awkward when I tell him. He might wonder what else I’m hiding.’
‘But, Lu, he’s going to find out,’ Izzy says. ‘Everyone is going to find out.’
‘Yeah, but that’s still a couple of weeks away, and by then Joey will like me even more, and he’ll have to forgive me.’
‘Look how well that worked with Jason,’ Rachel says.
Izzy plucks a gray dress off the sales rack. ‘I don’t see why you’re so worried. Tyler’s the one who’s in trouble. When Ella finds out she’s Lady Scoop, the easiest girl on campus, she’s going to kill him.’
Rachel takes the dress out of her hand and replaces it with a blue one. ‘Yeah, but Joey might not be too thrilled that Lu’s been painting him as a prince.’
Spinning another dress to figure out which plunging side is the front, Izzy says, ‘But a prince is good – isn’t it?’
Again Rachel takes the dress and replaces it. ‘The prince is already catching flak from Scoop. How about when the rest of the school finds out Joey’s the guy in the golden loincloth?’
Izzy seizes a third dress and holds it out of Rachel’s reach. ‘That’s just Scoop’s take on it. He’s an idiot, whereas Joey is a reasonable guy.’
I inspect what appears to be a blouse but turns out to be a very short dress. ‘Aren’t we overthinking this? Will anyone even remember what Scoop or Newshound said after the column ends?’
Rachel exchanges the dress I’m holding for a shirred number. ‘People have long memories for this type of thing.’
‘So I said he’s sensitive and romantic. It’s a compliment.’
‘Even good guys get stupid about their image, Lu. Think about what Paz will say.’
My stomach sinks. Paz will definitely take Scoop’s view, and Joey works with these guys thirty hours a week. ‘Oh, no. He’ll be laughed out of Donner’s.’
Izzy offers me a black dress covered in metallic sequins. ‘It’s not that bad.’
I shake my head at the sequins and counter with a pink sheath. ‘It’s pretty bad.’
Rachel dismisses the sheath and passes me a white combo with wispy layers. ‘Like you always say, the column is the real you. If he doesn’t like it, maybe he’s not your soul mate after all.’
The thought gives me a pang. Joey is my soul mate. I felt it, and I don’t want anything to ruin that. Peering at Rachel through the transparent outfit, I say, ‘And like you always say, it’s a persona. Hopefully Joey will understand a little poetic license.’
‘He’ll try harder if he sees you in this,’ Izzy says. She displays a purple satin halter dress. ‘The color is perfect, and exposure is minimal.’
I perk up a little as I take the dress. ‘What if I minimize exposure by not writing about Joey in the December columns?’
Rachel nudges me into the change room. ‘That might help. But can you stop writing about him?’
‘Of course I can stop writing about him,’ I say, slipping into the dress. ‘I can write about lots of other things. I’m practically a journalist.’
Izzy gasps as I fling open the door. ‘You look beautiful!’
‘That’s definitely the one,’ Rachel confirms. ‘It’s beshert.’
I step in front of the three-way mirror and smile. The halter gives the illusion of a bigger chest but doesn’t show too much skin. Best of all, it’s fifty percent off. After tax I’ll still have enough to buy us all lunch.
‘You can borrow my black suede T-straps,’ Izzy offers, twisting my hair up and pinning it.
‘And my crystal earrings,’ Rachel says.
My smile fades a little. I look like a million bucks, but strangely I don’t feel half as good as I do when I’m wearing Joey’s old hat.
‘Do you think Joey’s “the one”?’ Izzy asks later, over a pepperoni pizza.
Since we’ve already established that he’s my soul mate, I have to assume she’s moving on to less spiritual connections. ‘I guess so. Someday.’
‘But you’re already thinking about it,’ Rachel says.
‘Just thinking about it,’ I say. ‘Like I’m sure you thought about it with Jason. It’s inevitable.’
‘What does that mean?’ Izzy presses.
I grin at her. ‘It means I want him to be “the one” when the time is right.’
‘When do you think that’ll be?’ she persists.
‘Depends if he’s still around after the gala,’ I tease.
Rachel and Izzy exchange a look, and I know what they’re thinking: I was supposed to be the last to take that step. We all believed that Rachel, the most intrepid of our group, would be the first; Izzy, the most extroverted, would be second; and I, the most timid, would follow only when I got good and tired of sitting on the sidelines.
It’s been that way since we met in kindergarten. Rachel and Izzy bonded almost instantly over hopscotch, while I sat nearby, admiring Rachel’s natural skill and Izzy’s determination. After a few days of this, Rachel called me over, but I was too shy to join them. Izzy had to march across the playground and drag me over to play with them.
Our trio never looked back, but our approach to life is pretty much the same. Rachel was the first to get her ears pierced, the first to buy a bra, the first to kiss a boy. Izzy followed shortly afterward. And I … got around to things in my own sweet time.
If their relationships with Jason and Carson had worked out, our lives would have unfolded as usual. In fact, they still may if Rachel and Izzy meet someone new before long.
Life is full of surprises. Who would have guessed that the Perfect FB was a guy I saw all the time and never noticed? And who would have guessed that I’d be courting trouble by writing about him in my very own newspaper column? So much has changed this year. I guess it would be nice to be a leader instead of a follower for a change.
THE WORD … FROM NEWSHOUND
The New Goldilocks Conundrum
In Newshound’s opinion, there is no better hobby than shopping.
- First, it’s social. Nothing cements a friendship more than bargain-hunting.
- It’s creative. I seek inspiration on the Magnificent Mile and try to replicate those styles at the outlet mall.
- It’s educational. I’ve learned to stick to my budget, or suffer the consequences when I can’t afford fries at lunch.
- It’s competitive. It takes smarts and agility to battle the crowds at the best sales.
- It’s physical. A walk through the Loop gets anyone’s blood pumping.
- It’s enlightening. Some of my most treasured possessions came on the advice of my BFFs – items I would never have chosen on my own.
Shopping has always been the ideal escape from Dunfield life, so I was surprised to find myself stressed and grumpy during a recent trip to the Water Tower Mall. The purpose of the mission was to find an outfit worthy of the Literacy Gala.
When the veil of anonymity lifts, I want to be wearing the right outfit – something that makes me look dignified and mature, even if that’s not always how I come across on the page.
It was a tall order, especially with a modest budget. I wandered with my friends from store to store, all of us increasingly discouraged. Even my favorite shops let me down. I discarded one outfit after another, like a modern-day Goldilocks. Some were too tight, some were too short, some were too low, others too flimsy. None were just right.
Now, I’m fine with showing a little skin, but there’s a huge difference between sexy and overexposed. Clothes tell the world about the person you are, and I, for one, don’t want to tell the story all at once. I mean, who’s going to sit through the whole movie if someone’s already given away the ending?
So thank you, fashion world, but you can keep the microminis and transparent blouses.
If you ask me, a little mystery is where it’s at.
‘Luisa,’ Mr Sparling says, directing me to the seat across from him. ‘What happened here?’ He holds up the draft of my column.
I expected congratulations on my newfound restraint, not disapproval. After all, Scoop did suggest I poison myself in his last column. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s flat. You’ve danced around the issue instead of getting to the heart of it.’
‘But you and Mrs Alvarez thought we were getting too personal, so I took a different approach.’
‘It’s too late for that now. You’ve made a contract with your readers.’
‘A contract?’
‘I mean, people like it, and they come back every week expecting the same thing. That’s why we’re running an extra edition of the Bulletin for the first two weeks in December. Your fans want all “The Word” they can get before the big reveal. Plus, I’m putting it online.’
‘Online? That means it’ll be around forever.’ And I’ll never escape what I’ve said about Joey.
Mr Sparling taps the column with his pencil. ‘What’s really going on, Lu?’
I squirm uneasily in my seat. ‘Well, I’ve kind of started seeing someone.’
He smothers a smile. ‘So I gathered.’
‘I realized he may not appreciate my … interpretation of events. He doesn’t know about Newshound.’
‘Lu, any guy smart enough to hold your interest is going to recognize a literary persona when he sees one.’
Mr Sparling should not be giving me romantic advice. It’s just wrong. And yet I really want to buy what he’s selling right now. ‘His friends will tease him. Look at how Scoop reacts.’
‘Scoop is a persona too,’ he says.
‘Yeah, most people would never guess it’s Tyler Milano.’
The pencil drops out of Mr Sparling’s hand. ‘Nice try, Newshound. I’m not revealing any secrets.’
He doesn’t have to; the pencil said it all. ‘I know it’s Tyler.’
He smirks. ‘Why so sure?’
I smirk back. ‘I’m not revealing any secrets.’
‘What I can tell you is that the person behind Scoop is a pretty decent guy.’
‘He’s an idiot. His ideas about women are so backward he must be walking through the world butt-first.’
Mr Sparling laughs out loud. ‘That’s the Newshound who keeps people reading. So I want you to revise this. Talk shopping if you must, but dig a little deeper. And dig fast. I need this back on my desk by morning if we’re going to make the deadline for the new Wednesday edition.’
If you ask me, a little mystery is where it’s at.
It’s the same with relationships. People like Scoop may want to cut straight to the reveal, but it’s so much better to discover someone’s personality layer by layer. By the time you’ve stripped to the core, you’ve built a solid relationship that may actually stand the test of time.
Scoop will mock this philosophy, but we all know that ridicule is a sign of discomfort. Maybe he’s worried that if his lady gets a good look at what’s under his exterior, she’ll run screaming. Or maybe he’s just afraid of connecting with anyone on an emotional level. There’s a word for that, Scoop: immaturity.
You made your relationship sound as tacky as the clothes I saw at the mall the other day, which means you’re no gentleman. I know the difference because I happen to be seeing a real gentleman. He knows how to take his time, and he realizes that intimacy and mutual respect are a major turn-on.
Best of all, he accepts that a slow burn is ten times hotter than a flash in the pan.