Confessions of a Serial Kisser Read Free Page A

can get away with.
    So maybe he didn't notice my new look because everyone was busy noticing him. Or maybe it was because he did his usual last-minute slide into his seat and Sandra Herrera (who sits between the two of us) was blocking his view.
    Whatever the case, when Mrs. Fieldman commanded, "Pass your papers left!" I took Kenny Altemore's homework, handed mine to Sandra Herrera (which took a little patience, as Sandra was recovering from her near-physical contact with Robbie when she passed her homework to him), then got down to the business of math-class mechanics. By the time Mrs. Fieldman was through calling out answers, reviewing missed problems, and explaining the new section, I'd almost forgotten that there was anything different about me.
    When the bell rang, Robbie was out of his seat and through the door before I'd even put away my binder.
    "I like your new look," Lacey Egbert said as she passed by my desk.
    "Thanks!" I said, sliding my binder inside my book bag.
    Then all of a sudden Robbie was back. The cool air, it seemed, had alerted him to the fact that he'd forgotten his letterman jacket.
    After years of ignoring him, I was now paying attention to nothing
but
him. He snatched his jacket off the back of his seat and was in the middle of putting it on when he noticed me.
    He hesitated for maybe half a second, one arm in, one arm out. Then he smiled that gorgeous diamond-dusted smile at me as he swept his other arm through the sleeve of his jacket.
    On cue, I smiled back.
    Then I looped my book bag over my arm upside down, spilling everything inside it onto the floor.

8
    Conquest
    F OR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS Adrienne helped me arrange "chance encounters" with Robbie Marshall. She'd scout him out in the Snack Shack line during break, slyly cut in a few people back, then call out, "Evangeline! Over here!" and wave for me to join her.
    She interviewed him for the
Larkmont Times
(our illustrious school newspaper), and when I "happened" to saunter by, she pointed me out and casually mentioned that every guy in school seemed to be falling over me and my smashing new look.
    She dragged me along as she boldly infiltrated his corner of the quad, delivering an early copy of the
Larkmont Times
for his perusal.
    "Hey, Evangeline," he said to me, flashing diamond dust my way.
    "Hey," I said back, then somehow stumbled on a dandelion.
    Klutzy or not, I was definitely being noticed. But it all seemed to be taking so long! I was seeing my fantasy, and he was seeing me, but that was it for two long weeks. What was it going to take to go from seeing to living?
    So Wednesday night I rummaged through my mother's boxes of clothes and discovered an outstanding Rolling Stones T-shirt. It was creamy pink with the trademark lips and tongue. It was soft and stretchy, with a scoop neck and cap sleeves--my favorite style.
    Next, I raided her jewelry box and found a pair of oversized hoop earrings and half a dozen bangle bracelets.
    On to her perfume! (Which was still packed in an old shoe box under the bathroom sink.) I sampled everything from Happy to White Diamonds and settled on a subtle, musky fragrance.
    The last detail was makeup. I'd been wearing it pretty subtle, but it was time to go for a redder lipstick. Adarker mascara. A wider, more dramatic flare of eyeliner.
    I stashed everything in my closet, and the next morning I got decked out and slipped through the condo door ready to live my fantasy!
    Robbie did his usual at-the-bell slide into his seat, and, it being a Thursday, girls all around ogled his bulging arms.
    I, on the other hand, sharpened my pencil and took my time walking back to my seat, consciously avoiding Robbie (and any potential tripping hazards).
    Mrs. Fieldman took roll, then commanded us to pass our homework to the person on our left. I accepted Kenny Altemore's homework, then turned to find Robbie Marshall staring at me.
    Sandra Herrera was absent, leaving no human obstruction between me and Robbie. Fate, it