Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [27]
“Why do you even put up with me?”
“I'm not putting up with you,” he said, softly. “I'm loving you.”
This, of course, was supposed to make me feel better. Isn't this what we all want, someone who accepts us as we are? But it had the opposite effect. As Marcus enters the Enlightenment, I seem to recess further and further into the Dark Ages. And I don't know why.
“MMMMMMMMMAHCUSSSSSSSSS!”
Marin was pounding the door with her tiny fist.
“Jessica . . . ,” Marcus began.
“MMMMMMMMMAHCUSSSSSSSSS!”
“Well,” I said. “Don't leave her waiting.”
He opened the door and Marin rushed into his arms.
“MMMMMMMMMAHCUSSSSSSSSS!”
So today it was the four of us for the Fourth. One big happy family. Marcus was right; we could see the fireworks from the roof.
Whoop-de-freaking-do. I would have preferred them in the bedroom.
the sixth
Marcus drove back to Pineville tonight because his dad is still hobbling around and needs his help at the repair shop. Of our good-byes, it was probably the least traumatic because I know I'm heading to Pineville next weekend.
It was worse for Marin, and Bethany by association. Marin literally clung to his leg and held on for dear life. She screamed, “MMMMMMMMMAHCUSSSSSSSSS!” for what seemed like hours. She wailed for Marcus until her little body wore out and she could only continue with a plaintive whimper that, while a relief to the eardrums, was devastating in its sadness.
Clearly, my niece needs a father figure. The only reason I'm not totally freaking out about the impropriety of her current pick is the knowledge that Marcus won't be returning to the city any time soon. Marin will simply have to redirect her affections toward the mailman.
And if what Marcus says is true, I personally, privately, encourage Bethany to do the same.
the ninth
I'm pretty much a glorified secretary at True. The staff hasn't really gone out of its way for me. They're all perfectly pleasant when they ask me to fix the copy machine or send a fax, but no one has asked me to hang out after work or anything. They're all busy in their cubes, and I'm busy in mine. They probably don't see the point in getting to know another intern when I'll be gone at the end of the month. It's more practical than personal, and my complete lack of paranoia in this regard is proof of how much I've matured since my days at Pineville High.
Today I overheard Tyra and Smitty talking about a fashion show/ party where all the clothes are inspired by Cops, as in the TV show. Despite my new and mature attitude, I hope that maybe after some recent successes they'll have more of a reason to want to invite me along.
See, one of my more editorial, less administrative duties is to read through a bunch of New Jersey newspapers and clip any local news stories that the editors might be able to exploit for the issue. I'm also supposed to be on the lookout for any cultural events that True might want to cover. The other day, I cut out an item about Shanny Silverberg, a New Jersey native whose most notable achievements are in her bra. Okay. I'm not being fair. She's also known for being Bruce Willis's barely legal girlfriend for a blink. Now all of twenty years old, she's trying to reinvent herself as—natch—a lingerie designer. It was the first item I'd clipped that caught Tyra's attention.
“Jeepers creepers!” Tyra squeaked. “Thank you!”
Tyra was an editorial assistant at Mademoiselle before it folded a few years ago. At the time, the editor in chief liked to host what she called “Educational Salons.” During these mandatory gatherings, the staff was enlightened and entertained by one of the editor in chief's many close friends and associates. Tyra has co-opted this tradition for herself, only in the spirit of True.
Inspired by the clip I'd given her, today's guest of honor was none other than Shanny Silverberg, there to share her insights about bras and panties. This meeting clearly had been set up by Shanny's