Allison Diepen - The Oracle Rebounds

“They get stalked by people they meet other places, too. But you’re right, I’ll have to be careful. It’s still worth exploring. I’ve known a bunch of people who’ve met their mates online. Mark at work met his wife through a site years ago, and that was in the early days of online dating. Now there are thousands of potential guys. Mom says that at least half of the couples in her marriage prep courses meet that way.”

“Maybe I should try it, too.” The word rebound flashes in my mind with neon lights.

“Don’t you dare. You’re too young. And there’s no need. When you’re in high school and college, there are loads of opportunities to meet guys. It’s afterward that things dry up.”

“Don’t worry, Trace. I’m not going to look for a guy online. But you’re right that it’s worth a shot for you. Let me do a little research before you go on any dates, okay?”

“Yay! But hurry—I’ve already started chatting with a couple of guys, and it’s only a matter of time before we go out.”

Talk about a fire under my butt!

Over the next couple of days, I plunge into the world of online dating. I spend hours surfing the internet for articles, and I check out a bunch of dating websites.

In the end, I come up with:

The Dos and Don’ts of Online Dating

The Dos:

Do put up a realistic photo. Sure, replacing your picture with a supermodel will get a guy’s attention, but do you really want to see the disappointment in his eyes when he sees the real you?

Do look good—but don’t go over the top. If you dress up too fancy or wear too much makeup, he may wonder why you’re putting so much effort in.

Do trust your instincts. If you get a bad vibe from him, then don’t spend much time with him and don’t tell him many details about your life.

The Don’ts:

Don’t give out your phone number or call him until after you’ve met him, unless you have a block up so he can’t see your phone number.

Don’t meet on a Friday or Saturday night. Those nights are prized, and people generally stay out later, which makes it awkward if it’s a bad date and you want to go home early.

Don’t give him your full name until after he’s met your approval. Create a separate email account for guys you meet online.

Don’t let your date see where you live.

Don’t get into his car.

There must be more, but that’s all I can put together for now. I hope it’s enough to save Tracey from potential predators. I email her the blog and post it on my website, and none too soon. It turns out Tracey intends to go on a coffee date on Saturday afternoon with a guy who calls himself “Iced Mocha.” I am beside myself with anticipation. I offer to go to the café and keep an eye on things, but she says no, that would make her more nervous.

Too bad, because I’d love to put on a hat and sunglasses and play the spy. On second thought, maybe Mom and Erland were right; I need to get out more.

11 Days into Rebound Equation

Wednesday-morning pep rally. I’m sitting with my friends at the back of the gym. Sports teams are strutting in front of us while silly mascots are jumping and clapping, as if we care. We would totally sneak out if the teachers weren’t watching the doors. It’s not that I hate my school, but I don’t feel a major allegiance to it. Which I suppose isn’t good, considering I’m on student council.

“You wouldn’t believe what my mom did,” I say. “It’s totally heinous.”

“She read your diary!” Sharese says.

“I don’t have a diary.”

“She caught you sexting!” Amy declares.

“I don’t sext. That’s your thing.”

My friends are poised for the news. When I say the words exchange student, they shake their heads in disgust.

“I hope you guys will help me entertain him. You will, right?”

“Him?” Amy’s eyebrows go up. “Your mom is awesome.” The wave comes our way and we fling our arms upward. “She’s obviously hoping to get you some action.”

“Yeah, right! That is so not my mom.”

“That is so your mom. She knows you need a man. We all know it.”

“Well, I did find it odd that she’s letting him sleep in my room.” I watch their eyes widen. “I’m kidding!”

“My parents would never allow a guy who’s not family to stay at my house,” Viv says. “Especially a French guy. Don’t they all sleep around over there?”

“You can’t generalize like that,” Amy says. “You can only generalize that French guys are skinny. But Kayla doesn’t mind skinny.”

“Maybe I do. It depends on the guy.”

I refrain from saying that Jared wasn’t skinny, he was all lean muscle. I scan the gym, spotting Jared with a couple of guys and a girl at the other end. The girl is a senior named Chelsea Yang. Pretty. Cheerleader. Debate club.

Oh, my God. Chelsea Yang is moving in! My girl radar is certain of it.

I feel a hand on my arm. It’s Viv. She knows what I’m thinking.

So does Ryan. “You’ve raised his market value, Kayla. Before you, Chelsea never would’ve been interested. But you’ve made him an acceptable choice.”

“I did?” I am not cool with this. I took a chance on him, and now other girls know that he’s boyfriend material? No, thank you.

“I bet Chelsea’s been waiting for you to break up this whole time,” Amy says.

“But why would she be interested in Jared? Wasn’t she dating Michael from student council for ages? Jared isn’t her type.”

“He wasn’t your type either, or so you thought,” Sharese says. “Things change.”

“I can’t believe this.” Somehow my relationship with Jared has made him a desirable dating choice.

“She’s no you, Kayla,” Viv says. “Remember that.”

“Thanks.” But the bleak future is flashing before my eyes. Jared will get together with Chelsea. She will be less clingy, less melodramatic, and an altogether better girlfriend than I was. They will go to prom together, elope to Vegas, then go off to college and share one of those married couple dorm rooms which I’ve always thought were so cozy and romantic.

This line of thought is not working for me. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I get up quickly before one of my friends can offer to join me.

I hurry there, expecting to burst into tears. But the tears don’t come. Sadness seems to be locked in my throat. I’m standing at the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. How could you do this to me, Jared, when you promised to never hurt me?

I force myself to breathe in and out until I feel calm again. I finally straighten and leave the bathroom. When I go back into the gym, I refuse to look in Jared’s direction. Rebound, I tell myself. I’ve got to move on.

That night I write a blog called A Viable Option, discussing the idea that who you’re seen dating determines who will consider dating you next. I’m still reeling at the fact that go-getter Chelsea Yang may be going for Jared.

Or was she around the whole time? Were she and Jared secretly friends, just waiting for me to be out of the picture before they became more?

I try to banish the thought. Unless I’m faced with evidence to the contrary, I’m going to believe Jared didn’t dump me for another girl.

Still, I have to wonder about what Ryan said—that I somehow raised Jared’s stature by dating him for so long. But why? He dated Brooke before me, the most popular girl in school. She’s the one who made him a viable option, not me.

Or maybe not. She dumped him, claiming he was a jerk for demanding sex. But the truth was, it was just a ploy to make her break up with him. I suppose Jared might’ve remained a dating no-no if I hadn’t scooped him up after that.