Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [7]
But all things considered, I didn't blame people for not putting their money on us. And I couldn't help but feel vindicated when Marcus and I were only one of two couples who made it through the academic year. That we split $375 with an Indian couple who is in an arranged marriage situation made the victory even sweeter.
I had just finished explaining this all to Bethany when my mother swooped in with Marin to “get in on the girl talk.”
“What money?” my mom asked, briskly wiping her hands of nonexistent dirt. An aspiring GILF, she was dressed similarly to Bethany in her silk halter top and denim skirt, though she had the sense to lower the hemline by about six inches.
“Well, I doubt you'll be interested, because I was just telling Bethany how Marcus and I were one of only two couples on our floor to stay together all year.”
Disgust would have dented her forehead; that is, if my mother hadn't recently Botoxed the spot between her brows. (I can't even comment on this latest vanity, so disturbing is it to me.) My mother must have learned a sudden-change-of-subject approach to Handling Your Daughter's Bad Boyfriend on a shrinky segment of The View or something, because the next thing she said was, “Jessie! Is Len back from Cornell? You should call him!”
My mother just can't let go of Len, who dumped me senior year—on Valentine's Day of all days—to be with Manda, the Official Revirginized Reformed Slut of Pineville. (Really. It's in the brochures and everything. Okay, not really. But that's only because Pineville sucks too much to have a brochure.) Len and Manda have been together for more than a year and still claim they haven't had sex. They're very proud of their chastity, which is why it's common knowledge around here. Want to hear something people don't know? Earth? It really is flat! And the Sun and planets revolve around it, not vice versa! I know this because a fleet of winged space monkeys just flew out of my butt and took me on an intergalactic tour of the cosmos! Wheeeeeeeeee!!!
Needless to say, I think their celibacy is suspect.
“Scotty's also back in Pineville,” my mom continued, her eyes straying toward the snack table on the opposite side of our swimming pool. She was clearly torn between her two favorite hobbies: playing Martha and torturing me. “He had a tough year, Jessie. He always liked you. You should call him! You could help him get through this difficult time.”
Everyone knows Scotty spent the whole basketball season on the bench and quit the team shortly thereafter. Unlike Len and Manda, Scotty didn't go out of his way to broadcast this news. But his grotesque face puffery said everything anyone needed to know about his participation in the ritualistic alcohol abuse that inspires his fellow Lehigh University students to brag about their perennial top-five spot on Playboy's ranking of biggest party schools. (This is an apocryphal honor because Hef has only published the list twice. In 1987, Lehigh wasn't mentioned at all, and in last year's rankings it was number twenty-three—far from the top five. I go out of my way to mention this because it makes their alcoholic pride all the more hilarious. Or sad. Depending on how you look at it.)
I doubt Scotty's fall from grace or inflated face negatively affects the onslut of willing sex partners. Indeed, the Mother of All Gossipmongers still considers him “quite a catch.” She has a sycophantic devotion to Scotty, who just happened to be my first boyfriend, if you can call him that when our entire