To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

TODAY’S NOTE FROM PETER SAYS, Tart and Tangy after school?

He’s drawn two boxes, a yes or a no. I check yes and drop the note in his locker.

After school ends, I meet Peter at his car, and we caravan with his lacrosse friends to Tart and Tangy. I order an original frozen yogurt with Cap’n Crunch and strawberries and kiwi and pineapple, and Peter gets key lime with crushed-up Oreos. I pull out my wallet to pay for my yogurt, but Peter stops me. He winks at me and says, “I got this.”

I whisper, “I thought you weren’t ever paying for anything.”

“My boys are here. I can’t look like a cheap-ass in front of my boys.” Then he puts his arm around me and says loudly, “For as long as you’re my girl, you don’t pay for frozen yogurt.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m not going to say no to a free frozen yogurt. No boy has ever paid for me before. I could get used to this kind of nice treatment.

I was bracing myself to see Genevieve here, but she doesn’t show. I think Peter’s wondering too, because he keeps his eyes on the door. With Genevieve, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. So far she’s been eerily, disturbingly quiet. She’s hardly ever in the cafeteria during lunch because she and Emily Nussbaum have been eating off campus, and when I see her in the hallways, she fake smiles at me without showing her teeth, which is somehow more menacing.

When is she going to strike back against me? When will I have my Jamila Singh moment? Chris says Genevieve’s too obsessed with her college boyfriend to care about me and Peter, but I don’t believe it. I’ve seen the way she looks at him. Like he’s hers.

The boys put a few tables together and we basically take over the place. It’s just like at the lunch table, with them being loud, talking about the football game coming up on Friday. I don’t think I say two words. I don’t really have anything to add. I just eat my free frozen yogurt and enjoy the fact that I’m not at home organizing my shoe closet or watching the Golf Channel with my dad.

We’re walking to our cars when Gabe says, “Hey, Lara Jean, did you know that if you say your name really fast, it sounds like Large? Try it! Larajean.”

Dutifully I repeat, “Larajean. Larjean. Largy. Actually I think it sounds more like Largy, not Large.”

Gabe nods to himself and announces, “I’m going to start calling you Large. You’re so little it’s funny. Right? Like those big guys who go by the name Tiny?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

Gabe turns to Darrell. “She’s so little she could be our mascot.”

“Hey, I’m not that small,” I protest.

“How tall are you?” Darrell asks me.

“Five two,” I fib. It’s more like five one and a quarter.

Tossing his spoon in the trash, Gabe says, “You’re so little you could fit in my pocket!” All the guys laugh. Peter’s smiling in a bemused way. Then Gabe suddenly grabs me and throws me over his shoulder like I’m a kid and he’s my dad.

“Gabe! Put me down!” I shriek, kicking my legs and pounding on his chest.

He starts spinning around in a circle, and all the guys are cracking up. “I’m going to adopt you, Large! You’re going to be my pet. I’ll put you in my old hamster cage!”

I’m giggling so hard I can’t catch my breath and I’m starting to feel dizzy. “Put me down!”

“Put her down, man,” Peter says, but he’s laughing too.

Gabe runs toward somebody’s pickup truck and sets me down in the back. “Get me out of here!” I yell. Gabe’s already running away. All the guys start getting into their cars. “Bye, Large!” they call out. Peter jogs over to me and extends his hand so I can hop down.

“Your friends are crazy,” I say, jumping onto the pavement.

“They like you,” he says.

“Really?”

“Sure. They used to hate when I would bring Gen places. They don’t mind if you hang out with us.” Peter slings his arm around me. “Come on, Large. I’ll take you home.”

As we walk to his car, I let my hair fall in my face so he doesn’t see me smiling. It sure is nice being part of a group, feeling like I belong.