Kody Keplinger: The DUFF: Designated Ugly Fat Friend

But she had nothing to be afraid of. This was totally different from my relationship with Wesley. I wasn’t running anymore. Not from reality. Not from my friends. Not from anything.

I smiled to reassure her.

“Go! Go!” Jessica squealed, her blond ponytail swinging as she bounced excitedly.

“Yeah,” Casey said, smiling back at me. “Don’t keep the boy waiting.”

They shoved me forward and disappeared back upstairs in a fit of giggles and whispers.

“Freaks,” I muttered, shaking my head and fighting a small giggle. I took a deep breath and pulled open the door. “Hey, Toby.”

He stood on my front porch, looking as cute as always in his navy blazer and khaki pants. He looked like a Kennedy. With a bowl cut. He gave me a big boyish smile that showed off all his ivory teeth. “Hi,” he said, shifting to stand in front of me. He’d been waiting off to one side of the door. “Sorry. I decided to wait. I heard giggling.”

“Oh,” I glanced over my shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Wow. You look beautiful, Bianca.”

“No, I don’t,” I said, totally embarrassed. No guy but my dad had ever said that to me before.

“Of course you do,” he said. “Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know.” Oh, wow, I was lame. Why couldn’t I just take a compliment? What if I sent him running before we even started the date? God, that would be shitty. I cleared my throat and tried to look like I wasn’t inwardly slapping myself.

“So are you ready to go?” Toby asked.

“Yeah.”

I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. Toby took my arm and led me down the sidewalk to his silver Taurus. He even opened the passenger’s door for me, like boys do in those old movies. Very classy. I couldn’t help wondering, again, why on earth he was interested in me. He put the key in the ignition and turned to smile at me. His smile was definitely his best feature. So I smiled back, feeling the little butterflies flutter around in the pit of my stomach.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said.

“Starved,” I lied, knowing very well that I was way too nervous to eat.

By the time we left Giovanni’s, a tiny Italian restaurant in Oak Hill, I’d become a little more comfortable. My nerves were dying down, and I’d even managed to eat a small bowl of meatless spaghetti. We were laughing and talking, and I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t want the date to be over when Toby paid the bill. Lucky for me, he felt the same way.

“You know,” he said as the bells on the door jingled behind us. “It’s only nine-thirty. I don’t have to take you home yet… unless you want to go home, which is fine, of course.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not in a hurry to go home. But what do you want to do?”

“Well, we can walk,” Toby suggested. He gestured down the sidewalk that ran alongside the busy street. “It’s not very exciting, but we can window-shop or talk or-”

I smiled at him. “Walking sounds fun.”

“Wonderful.”

He looped his arm in mine, and we began to stroll down the well-lit sidewalk. We’d passed a couple small shops before either of us spoke. Thank God he opened his mouth first because, even though I wasn’t that nervous anymore, I had no clue what I could say that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete goofball.

“Well, since you know all about my college situation, I want to know about yours. Have you applied anywhere yet?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve applied to a couple, but I haven’t picked one yet. I guess I’m kind of procrastinating.”

“Do you know what you’ll major in?”

“Probably journalism,” I said. “I don’t know, though. I’ve always wanted to be a reporter for the New York Times. So I applied to a couple of schools in Manhattan.”

“The Big Apple,” he said, nodding. “Ambitious.”

“Yeah, well, watch me end up like that girl in The Devil Wears Prada,” I said. “A complete loser working at some stupid fashion magazine when all I really want to do is write about world events or interview revolutionary congressmen… like you’ll be.”

He beamed at me. “Oh, you wouldn’t be a complete loser.”

“Whatever,” I laughed. “Can you imagine me writing about fashion? An industry where size fours are considered fat? No way. I’d wind up committing suicide.”

“Something tells me you’d be good at anything you tried,” he said.

“Something tells me you’re kissing my ass a little bit there, Toby.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but not much. You’re pretty great, Bianca. You tell it like it is, you don’t seem like you’re afraid to be yourself, and you’re a Democrat. That makes you awesome in my book.”

Okay, so I blushed. Can you blame me?

“Thank you, Toby.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Wow. Was he perfect or what? Cute, polite, funny… and he liked me for some unknown reason. It was like we were made for each other. Like he had the puzzle piece that fit with mine. Could I get any luckier?

A cold March breeze was blowing, and I began regretting that I’d let Casey and Jessica dress me. They’d never been seasonably sensible when it came to clothing. My bare legs were freezing (they hadn’t let me wear panty hose), and the thin material of my blouse definitely didn’t shield me from the wind. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself in an effort to warm up.

“Oh, here,” Toby said. He pulled off his blazer, just like boys are supposed to do, and held it out for me. “You should have told me you were cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t be silly.” He helped me slide into the sleeves. “Honestly, I’d rather not be dating a Popsicle.”

Dating? I mean, this was a date, but were we dating now? I’d never dated anyone, so I wasn’t really sure. Either way, hearing him say that made me very happy… and strangely nervous at the same time.

Toby turned me around and adjusted the blazer around my neck and shoulders.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

We were standing in front of an old antiques store, its windows illuminated by the light of fancy, old-fashioned lamps, like the ones my grandpa had in his living room. The glow spilled onto Toby’s angular face, glinting off the rims of his glasses and highlighting his almond-shaped eyes… which were staring down at me.

His fingers still lingered on the collar of the blazer. Then his hand slid up from my shoulder to my jaw. His thumb grazed my cheek, stroking it over and over again. He leaned toward me slowly, giving me plenty of time to stop him if I wanted to. Yeah, right! As if I would dream of it.

And he kissed me. Not a make-out kiss, but not just a peck either. It was a real kiss. Gentle and sweet and long. The kind of kiss I’d wanted to share with Toby Tucker since I was fifteen years old, and it felt exactly like I’d always imagined it would. His lips were soft and warm, and the way they moved against mine made the butterflies in my belly go berserk.

Okay. I know, I know. I think PDA is gross and immature, but come on. I was a little too distracted to care who might be watching. So, yeah, I put my usual values aside for a second and wrapped my arms around his neck. I mean, I could always go back to my crusade against public make-outs in the morning.

I slipped into the house around eleven o’clock that night and found Dad waiting for me on the sofa. He smiled at me and muted the TV. “Hey, Bumblebee.”

“Hi, Dad.” I shut and locked the front door. “How was your meeting?”

“Strange,” Dad admitted. “It’s weird being back again… but I’ll get used to it. What about you? How was your date?”

“Amazing,” I sighed. God, I couldn’t stop smiling. Dad was probably going to think I’d had a lobotomy or something.