March:
Teddy does ask her out, as it happens, and so far they've been on two dates-the first dates, actually, that Amy's ever been on, although a treacherous voice in her head reminds her that holding hands on the ice with Jake Peralta sure felt more romantic than anything she and Teddy have done so far.
He takes her for sushi during lunch for their first date (his choice), which is awkward, because Amy doesn't actually like sushi, but she doesn't want to say anything for fear of creating a still more awkward moment. So she eats basically nothing, only managing to stomach a bit of a California roll, and when it comes time to pay, she insists they split the bill evenly, because she has some feminist principles, dammit. (Besides, she's pretty sure Teddy's not a scholarship student, unlike her, which means he can more easily afford this overpriced Brooklyn restaurant, which makes her all the more determined to pay her share.)
"You ate so little," he says, sounding guilty. "It's not fair to split it evenly."
He's technically right, and it's not like it goes against her principles or anything (it's even kind of sweet), but it still gets her back up. (Jake, says that persistent voice, wouldn't have tried to pay more than half. Jake wouldn't have taken you for sushi in the first place. He'd have taken you for pizza, because he knows you like comfort food. Yeah, well, Jake's not on the table, she snipes back at the voice, and tries to enjoy her time with Teddy.)
They hold hands on the walk home from the sushi place, and Amy's pleased to note that Teddy's a lot less sweaty than he was that time they danced at prom. She doesn't think she could handle being this close to someone who smelled bad.
Although, they haven't gotten particularly close yet, physically. The hand-holding is about as far as it's gone, and while she appreciates the delicacy that's led him not to kiss her on the first date, she still wonders when he's going to get around to it.
She'll be seventeen in a few months, after all, and if she doesn't have her first kiss by then (her first real kiss, not counting the time with Kylie when they were seven, "just to practice," which doesn't count, not because Kylie's a girl, but because they were seven and had no idea what they were doing), she thinks she might have to be locked up as some kind of freak.
Their second date is better than the first, thank God-they go for a walk in a park near school, the morning after a snowfall, during a period they both have free-and it's before the smoke and exhaust from the cars has dirtied up the white powder, so it's clear and beautiful, and theirs are the first footprints on the new ground.
Teddy, again, takes her hand, but makes no attempt to go farther, and she wonders if she's going to have to be the one to initiate kissing. She's not really sure what to do-do you keep your mouth open or closed on a first kiss? Tongue in or out? How long should it last?
To be fair, she doesn't know whether Teddy has any more knowledge about this than she does, but she's still reluctant to take the lead, as badly as she wants to get to the kissing part. (She doesn't admit to herself that if they're kissing, the silences might not be so awkward anymore.)
She does, however, admit to herself that she's jealous of the pace that Jake is apparently proceeding at in his relationship with Bernice. Oh, they haven't crossed the line into inappropriate PDA, and Principal Goor has seen no reason to regale the student body with another lecture on public and private pleasures, as he does whenever any couples start getting a little too affectionate in the hallways-they haven't done any of that, but Amy can see by the way Jake's hand rests on the small of Bernice's back that they're more comfortable with each other than she is with Teddy. Definitely, they've made out, she figures-and she finds herself wondering if they've maybe ever gone even farther.
Her speculations on her own sexual experience versus Jake's are brought to the forefront of her mind when Gina announces in the girls' restroom one day, "I lost my virginity this weekend."
"You what?" Amy screeches, at first horrified that Gina's chosen such a public place for this confession. "Aren't you worried someone might overhear you?"
"Calm down, goody-two-shoes," says Gina, in a tone so blasé that Amy suspects it's affected. "I don't care if anyone hears. This isn't the Victorian era, you know. Women are allowed to have sex."
"Did you use protection?" Amy hisses, still frightened of being caught talking about this.
"Obviously," says Gina. "I mean, I've been on the pill forever 'cause my menses are unfortunately irregular, and we used a condom. I'm not getting pregnant anytime soon."
"Who did you...do it with?"
"A lady never tells."
"Was it...did you…"
"Did I reach climax? Yes. Not bad for a first-timer, if I do say so myself. Nailed it in one."
"Okay, gross."
"I am sharing my life with you, and you're calling it gross?" asks Gina, offended. "Next time I'll tell Rosa first."
"No, I really am glad you told me," says Amy, chastened. "I don't mean to be all judge-y. I just...well, I don't have much experience in that area. As you know."
"Even with the Tedster?"
"Don't call him that."
"What, the Teddy-bear not getting you where you need to go?"
"That nickname's not better. And no. We haven't even kissed yet."
"Damn, girl! What are you waiting for?"
"He's the one waiting!"
"Too shy to start anything, huh? Well, he should get on it. You guys have been dating...oh, about as long as Jake and Bernice, right? And they've absolutely gone to second base by now."
"You think so?" Amy asks, desperately curious. "You think they've gone farther?"
"Why do you care?" counters Gina sharply.
"I don't," says Amy, hastily backing off. "I just, if you're having sex, and Jake's maybe having sex, and I haven't even been kissed yet...I'm starting to feel left behind."
"Aw, don't get in the dumps, grumps! I'm sure it'll happen before long."
"Thanks," says Amy, touched, and then-"So, can you give me, like, a hint, about who it was?"
"Hmm...he was gorgeous, obvs…" And Gina rattles on until next period.
So it's with a mixture of trepidation and excitement that Amy accepts Teddy's invitation to "come over to my house and hang out on Saturday?"
She figures this is probably It, that maybe he was uncomfortable with the idea of kissing her in public (which is a fear she can 100 percent get behind) and wanted to wait until they had some privacy, which is also nice and considerate and thoughtful of him. All in all, she's on board with the plan (though if he tries anything other than kissing, which she's pretty sure he won't, she's determined to explain that she really doesn't feel comfortable going beyond that right now).
The disadvantage to this third date is that she has to meet Teddy's parents, which is going to be nervewracking. The entire subway ride there, she listens to music on her iPod and tries to imagine all the things that could possibly go wrong-his parents could disapprove of her being Latina or on scholarship or Catholic-she doesn't have a ton of experience with rich WASPs, she realizes.
But it's only Teddy's mother who's there when she knocks on the door of their roomy brownstone (his dad is apparently away on business), and she offers Amy a homemade cookie and smiles warmly.
"Mom, this is my girlfriend Amy," Teddy says, not seeming particularly interested in developing the interaction, "and I think we're going to go upstairs and play games or something."
So Amy only has time to shoot a brief "thank you" Mrs. Wells' way before following Teddy up to his room.
She's a bit struck by his easy use of "girlfriend" in describing her-she hasn't thought of their relationship that way, and it's odd to hear it from his mouth.
"So," he says once they get to his room, which is basically the same as every other teenage-boy room Amy's ever seen, and with seven brothers, she's seen several-how was your morning?"
"It was good," she says, sitting down next to him on the bed. "Did some homework. That calc problem set was murder, huh?"
"Yeah, I didn't enjoy it."
"Do you think you're going to keep taking math in college, or have you decided to go more of a humanities route?" Even to herself, she sounds boring, like she's a teacher interviewing him. This is not how you get boys to kiss you, Amy!
"I haven't really thought about it," he says, and then-"Hey, is it okay if I kiss you?"
Wow. Apparently asking incredibly boring questions is in fact how you get boys to kiss you.
"Um, sure," she says, and adds, nervously, as he's leaning in, "but, uh, I haven't really kissed anyone before. Like, ever. Just so you know. If I don't do a good job."
He smiles at her, and it's a genuinely warm smile (the kind of smile Jake gives her, says the voice in her head she wishes would just shut up and let her have this moment), and says, "Don't even worry about it."
And then he kisses her (for the record: open mouths, slight tongues). She kisses him back to the best of her ability, which, as she's by now admitted (which she's starting to regret), is not great.
Neither, though, is he-or, she worries, maybe this is just what kissing is like all the time, and he's great at it and she's great at it, and it'll never get any better than this, this wet slobbery mess.
She doesn't know when to end the kiss, either, so she's relieved when he finally breaks away.
"Thoughts?" he asks her, like he's looking for an evaluation.
"Um. Interesting!" she says, not wanting to lie.
"Want to try again?"
"Okay."
They kiss a few more times, and it does actually get better, she's happy to notice-though she's still not really enjoying it. Afterwards, they just sit and talk about school and how Teddy's doing on this video game he's been playing and Amy's plans for taking the SAT in a few weeks, and before long it's time for her to go.
Teddy kisses her one more time before they leave his room, and it's deeper, if that's the word she wants, than any of the others-he really gets his tongue in there, which, honestly, she could kinda do without, and it lasts for a while, and it's really not doing anything for her but he seems to enjoy it.
For the whole train ride home, she thinks about kissing. She wonders if it's clear to everyone she's riding with that she's just been making out-she wonders if when she comes home her mother's going to be able to tell at once. She feels dirty, which is ridiculous, because she did absolutely nothing the Pope himself wouldn't be okay with.
And as she reflects, one thing stands out, incredibly clear: she has to break up with Teddy.
