Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [40]
“I'm going somewhere?” Marcus asked, sliding out of Jane's grip.
“The Glam Slam Metal Jam,” I said, showing him the newspaper clipping.
“Really?” Marcus asked, smoothing over the rumpled fabric at his neck. “You hate hair bands. And you hate nostalgia for hair bands even more.”
And before I could answer, the phone rang. My mother yelled from downstairs.
“Jessie! It's Bridget!”
“And you say you aren't popular,” Jane teased. “Tell Bridget she must come with us!”
“Hey, Bridget; I was going to call you,” I said instead.
“That's, like, your motto for the summer,” she said, not without reason.
“I know, I know,” I said. “But I'm going to make it up to you bigtime. How'd you two like to join me, Marcus, and my friend Jane from school at the Glam Slam Metal Jam tonight?”
Pepe got on the line. “What's this about?” I explained how it was a hairbandapalooza, and how they'd have to show up in all their glam rock glory or not at all.
“We're in,” Pepe said. “I'll drive.”
“Cool,” I said.
“Au revoir, Jess.”
“Au revoir,” I replied with a pang of sadness, the way I always do whenever Pepe and I speak French now, which is rare and never goes beyond au revoir or bonjour or the occasional oui. Long gone are our private conversations in a language that no one else understood. Such intimacies are reserved for Bridget alone, as they should be. He got over his foolish, fervent crush on me and found someone so much better. And I'm happy for them. Really.
“So Bridget goes to school in California, like you,” Jane said to Marcus. “And her boyfriend is going to school in New York, like you,” she said to me.
“Yes,” Marcus and I said simultaneously.
“Interesting,” Jane said cryptically, shifting her attention back to Marcus.
“It's not interesting as much as it's inconvenient,” I said.
“It is how it is,” Marcus said.
“So!” Jane gushed, clasping Marcus's hand. “You must come shopping with us! Unless you've got some choice acid wash hiding in your closet.”
“I'm gonna take a pass,” he said, looking first at Jane and then at me.
I tried my best to mask my disappointment. I didn't want Jane to see that I thought our night would be ruined because of my boyfriend's absence.
“Why?” I asked, calmly. “Won't it be fun to hang out with Bridget and Percy?”
“I'm just not in the mood to play dress up.”
And then we just kind of stood there for a few moments.
“Well, we must go if we want to find the right outfits at the consignment shop.”
If I hadn't memorized every millimeter of Marcus's face, I wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible wrinkling of his brow at the word must. He muttered his good-byes and I followed him out the door.
“Hey,” I said, reaching for his fingertips before he stuffed them in his pockets. “What's going on?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I just don't feel like going, that's all.”
“Okay,” I said. “But I get the sense that something else is going on here.”
“You hate hair bands.”
“So?”
“This reminds me of one of your assignments for True,” he said. “Proving how game you are.”
“This is different,” I said defensively. “Because Jane is my friend.”
Marcus looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
Of course it wasn't nothing. If I were to guess, whatever he was about to say had something to do with Jane's use of pushy imperatives.
Marcus thrust his hands inside his loose pockets. “Go have fun with your friend. I'll see you tomorrow.”
It wasn't a fight. Not even close. But I felt conflicted because Marcus was obviously disappointed in me. But who was he to say why I was going?
As I watched Marcus drive away, Jane came from behind and swung her arm through mine.
“C'mon,” she said. “We must get skanked.”
With a budget of $25, Jane and I set out for Good Stuff Cheap, a dumpy strip-mall consignment shop that would never be confused for a vintage shop in the Village.
“This place is so crappy!” Jane exclaimed once we were inside, not caring who heard.