Comedy Girl Read Free

kindergarten, which means she has an extra year’s growth in the boob department.”
    â€œGet out!” Jazzy laughed.
    â€œShe’s so big,” I teased, “her bra should be on display at Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum!”
    Jazzy laughed again. “No, she’s just got a daddy who’s a plastic surgeon,” she comforted me.
    â€œHer body’s so perfect, she got an A in Anatomy—without taking the class,” I continued, on a roll.
    Jazzy and I giggled. “Quiet down over there,” Mr. Barker scolded.
    I wouldn’t have been able to survive this kind of trauma without a true-blue friend like Jazlyn Peters.

LOVE AND LAUGHTER
    B efore that first smile from Gavin in the school parking lot, I’d had a comical series of “drive-thru” relationships with the opposite sex. The first was Mickey Collins in preschool. I, the patient, was lying on my back on the floor in my red Healthtex dress, and Mickey, the doctor, was kneeling over me with a long wooden spoon. Fortunately Miss Burke discovered us before any diagnosis was made.
    Later I had crushes on numerous elementary-school dreamboats. In fifth grade I liked Nicholas, a neighborhood boy who attended a private grammar school. I received my first kiss while playing hide-and-seek one night before dinner. Unfortunately I was too skilled at the game, and when he finally did hunt me down he was exhausted. He missed my mouth and wound up kissing me on my cheek, panting more from exhaustion than love, and was then called in for dinner. I learned to leave a leg showing!
    Junior year I had just experienced smile number onefrom new transfer dreamboat Gavin Baldwin, when I encountered erotic oddball Eddie Abels.
    It was a rainy Friday night. My parents were at a party and had left me an envelope with forty dollars “for dinner and emergencies,” along with a stack of coupons for every restaurant in Amber Hills. Jazzy was spending the night, and our stomachs were growling like bears by the time the doorbell finally rang. The delivery guy from Pizza Town looked strangely familiar.
    â€œIt’s Eddie from my Geometry class!” I feverishly whispered to Jazzy in the foyer, as we hung back in our nightshirts. He sat in the first row and I in the last, both daydreaming about life outside the lines of isosceles triangles. We hardly knew each other existed.
    Eddie shuffled awkwardly in his red-and-blue polo shirt and bright red pants. His wet blond hair dripped out from beneath his Pizza Town cap.
    â€œHey, babies,” he said, leaning against the doorway, eyeing my exposed legs with his sexy eyes, like he had been delivering pizzas and passion all his life.
    â€œOne large Sicilian with everything,” he said, unzipping the red warming box.
    I nudged Jazzy and whispered, “Without cheese.”
    â€œI hope there’s no cheese on it,” Jazzy interjected. “She’s lactose intolerant.”
    â€œNot to fear, babies. I personally scraped it off.”
    I shifted nervously back and forth, pulling down on my South Park nightshirt. I stared at my sexy classmate—my body alive with his presence. I was totally embarrassed to be dressed for bed in front of a classmate. I fumbled with the envelope as he stepped into the foyer. He gazed at my legs while holding the hot pizza.
    â€œWe don’t usually answer the door like this,” Jazzy said, twirling her hair.
    â€œThen it’s my lucky night,” he said to me with a coy glint in his eyes.
    I was startled and dropped the money.
    â€œLet me get that,” he said, bending down. I kept my eyes on the floor as we scrambled to collect the bills.
    â€œYou’re in my math class,” Eddie said to me. “I knew you looked familiar. You’re the one who never says anything.”
    I couldn’t believe he had ever noticed me, that anyone had noticed me!
    I scrambled to my feet and gave Eddie both