Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [46]
And for some inexplicable reason, I heard the rumble in my head and felt the burn in my throat that serves as a warning that I'm about to cry.
“It's okay,” Bridget said.
“No,” I croaked. “It's not.”
She rushed to my side and threw her arm around me. “Look, Jess,” she said. “As long as my mom lives across the street from your parents, we will be friends.”
Bridget always smells like a day at the beach, not unlike the coconut-scented palm tree deodorizer hanging from Marcus's rearview mirror. She'll fit right in.
“One bad summer can't change everything,” she said with confidence.
I sighed and repeated her words back at her.
“One bad summer can't change everything . . .”
Never before have I needed Bridget to be so right.
the twenty-first
I haven't seen much of Marcus in the last three days. He's been packing and mapping. I've been doing a lot of melodramatic moping. This is something I do: avoidance. I did the same thing right before Hope moved. I didn't spend time with her because I knew she'd be gone soon anyway. Then after she left, I regretted the last talks, the last jokes, the last cries we missed out on.
“Are you okay?” Marcus asked as he put his battered guitar case in the backseat of the Caddie.
“I'm fine,” I said, kicking the SEXY GRANDPA bumper sticker, a faded relic from the previous owner.
“Are you sure?” he said, reaching for my hand.
He was really asking me about last night. We'd gotten together at his house for a carefree farewell fuck that was anything but. It was intense. Too intense, actually. I cried as I came. And then I couldn't stop.
“I'm just sad that you're leaving,” I said, stroking his calloused fingertips. “I feel like we hardly had any time together this summer. There were always all these other things in the way.”
To his credit, Marcus didn't mention how I effectively chose not to take this trip. In fact, he didn't say anything. Instead, he glanced over at Bridget and Pepe, who were swing dancing to music only they could hear. They, too, wouldn't see each other for months, yet didn't seem all that traumatized by it.
“There will always be other things,” Marcus said quietly. “That's life.”
I thought about how I've never danced with Marcus. Anywhere. Ever.
Marcus asked Bridget if she was ready to go.
“Whoo-hoo!” Bridget whooped. “Let's hit the road!”
“I love you, Jessica,” Marcus said.
“I know,” I replied.
My eyes were dry as I watched the Caddie round the corner and drive out of sight.
Pepe suggested that we cheer ourselves up over coffee and high carbs at Helga's diner. I didn't have the energy to tell him that this wasn't the best cheer-upper locale, as it was the first place Marcus and I ever went together in public. A nondate, I called it, because I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge that what was happening between Marcus and me was genuine. We were spotted there by the Clueless Crew, who made salacious accusations that it would take another year and a half to make good on. On that first night, the farthest we got was Marcus's gentle nibble on my bottom lip.
To this day, I still wonder whether that lip nip counts as our first kiss.
And now, as back on the nondate night, I walked through Helga's front doors and straight in to the innermost circle of high school hell: Manda, Len, Scotty, and an anonymous hobag were clustered by the cash register. I had nearly made it through the summer without seeing or being seen by them. This is why I don't like to leave the safety of my bedroom. Or Marcus's. To bump into them today of all days was just . . . so . . . me.
Pepe, of course, was unfazed.
“It's like a high school reunion here tonight!”
And Manda, whose breasts are larger and realer than any on display in the Homemade Bikini Contest, said, “Jess! It's soooo great to see you! Where's Marcus? We wanted to hang out with you guys all summer! You're still together, right? Right?! Wait, are you two together?!”
Len shuffled his feet and said, “Um.”
The giant Thanksgiving Day parade balloon