Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [147]
This realization makes me sink to the curb with the box between my knees.
He sits down next to me and says, “I was wrong the other night in the car, when I told you that I had said all I could say.”
I read the first page of the journal on top. There's no date. But the first line is addressed in a very specific way: My dear Jessica . . .
And then pages and pages and pages of words, words, words . . . everything Marcus couldn't say to me over the past two years, but wants me to know.
“You're always going to pull stuff like this, aren't you?”
“Yes.”
“Even though it drives me insane.”
He shrugs. “It's who I am, Jessica. It's part of my charm. You wouldn't want me any other way.”
And I know he's right.
I almost can't believe I'm going to make myself vulnerable to him again. But what is love but the most extreme and exquisite form of risk perception? I know that relationships don't last. And yet, with Marcus, the risk of not being with him is much worse than any other hurt I can imagine.
Marcus's gaze is fixed on the grass. His face is partially obscured, but I can see his dented brow. And he's tapping his feet in a twitchy, arrhythmic way. And I think, I'm making Marcus Flutie nervous.
“Will you still be here when I get back?” I ask.
He looks up. The frown fades and a smile arrives in its place, one that starts at his mouth but really comes out through this eyes. It's a sincere, unsullied smile.
“I want to be.”
And that's when I stand up, lean in, and kiss him. I kiss him because I know exactly what he means, as much as such knowledge is even possible between two people. Marcus wants to be here when I get back, but he's not promising that he will. All promises are true only until they aren't, and I appreciate his honesty.
“You've changed,” I seethed right before he left me that winter, nearly two years ago. And yes, Marcus had changed, but that was my problem, not his. A relationship ends because you've outgrown it. It can begin again because you, as two, can fill the new shape.
I thought Marcus was going to be in my life forever. Then I thought I was wrong. Now he's back. But this time I know what's certain: Marcus will be gone again, and back again and again and again because nothing is permanent. Especially people. Strangers become friends. Friends become lovers. Lovers become strangers. Strangers become friends once more, and over and over. Tomorrow, next week, fifty years from now, I know I'll get another one-word postcard from Marcus, because this one doesn't have a period signifying the end of the sentence.
Or the end of anything at all.
Marcus,
AND
Love, Jessica
Acknowledgments
Many thanks go out to:
Joanna Pulcini, for telling me that the best was yet to come.
Kristin Kiser, who has always gotten it. Lindsey Moore, for her sharp eye and even sharper sense of humor. Jennifer O'Connor, whose beautiful covers continue to catch buyers' eyes years after publication. And everyone else at Crown for their innovative ideas and exhaustive efforts.
Columbia University, for withstanding my creative liberties.
Colleen Myers, who confirmed that things haven't changed all that much at my alma mater in the last decade. (When it comes to male-female relations, I'm sorry to hear that.) Jay Saxon, for his informative tour of Princeton University, but mostly for letting me lurk on facebook.com. (Vote for him when he runs for president in 2024.) Amber-Lyn Kuhl at the College of St. Elizabeth, for moderating the livejournal community devoted to passionate discussions about my books (livejournal.com/community/sloppyfirsts/). And all the other college students who stopped working (hard) and playing (harder) long enough to answer my questions, including Annie Berke, Sarah Downs, and Sara Fuentes.
The creators and contributors to collegehumor.com for making me laugh my ass off while I was conducting “research.”
The ladies—especially Jeannie Kim, Erika Rasmusson Janes, and Monica Ryan—for helping me retain and maintain my mojo.
Alan and Ellen McCafferty, for