Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [87]
“Oh really?” I asked, scraping paint off the park bench with my fingernail as a distraction because this was getting too intense.
“You're upset that Marcus is at gay cowboy camp.”
Bethany can say this with a straight face because she has no sense of humor.
“Marcus is not at gay cowboy camp! It's . . .” I tried coming up with a better way of explaining Pure Springs, but words failed me. I changed tacks. “Wait, how did you know about this?”
“From your friend.”
“What friend?”
“Wally D's daughter. The tan skinny one.”
“Sara?”
She nodded. “We saw her at the Papa D's/Wally D's opening on the Point Pleasant boardwalk,” she said. “She flunked out of school . . .”
“Sara flunked out of school?!”
“Marin! Listen! We do not dump buckets of sand on people!” Bethany yelled to a very triumphant-looking Marin. She turned back to me. “Yes, she's out of school, so her dad gave her a store.”
Of course he did. Papa D to the rescue. Normally I would've made fun of this. But truth be told, I was kind of jealous that my parents weren't so carefree with their cash.
“Funny how Sara neglected to mention this while slandering my boyfriend at Tiki Tiki Tonga.”
For the first time throughout this whole conversation, Bethany turned and gave me her full attention. “Your boyfriend?”
“My ex-boyfriend,” I said, as I tried to dig out the paint that had gotten under my first fingernail with a second fingernail on the opposite hand. This worked in removing the blue shmutz from the first fingernail, but only at the expense of transplanting it to the second fingernail. I couldn't see how this pattern could correct itself. It was hopeless.
“Listen!” Bethany snapped. I was looking down, so I was expecting her to chastise Marin for more unlawful sandbox behavior. “LISTEN!” she repeated, even more sternly. I was surprised when I looked up and saw her blue eyes targeted right at me, glasses off. “I think he's what's really bothering you. You're not over him yet. And you're never going to be happy until you are. Are there any prospects?”
In quick succession, Mini Dub, Scotty, and Bastian popped into my head—the last three men (well, two boys, one man) to show any interest in me. I lingered on Bastian's image before providing Bethany with a simple answer. “No.”
“Well, you have to go out and make that ‘No' into a—” Bethany sprung up again. “NO! NO! NO!” She ran toward Marin, who had lifted her Spider-Man T-shirt to flash the ankle-biting crowd. Girls Gone Wild: The Sandbox Edition. I know from my class about Children at Risk that this is perfectly normal behavior. Marin won't necessarily end up modeling a Cool Whip bikini eighteen years from now.
Anyway, on the long subway ride back to campus, I thought about Bethany's inadvertent advice and how easy it would be for me to take. I don't think there's anyone better than I am at turning a simple no into a NO! NO! NO!
the tenth
Tonight I let Dexy convince me to attend a Democratic fund-raiser downtown.
“You've been talking about how you want to be more politically active!” she said, waving a flyer in my face. “Here's your chance!”
“I don't have $250 to get in the door,” I said.
“You don't need it!” Dexy said, speaking even faster than usual. “I've got two tickets already. Remember that guy I shagged last week?”
I didn't—it was impossible to keep track—but I nodded anyway.
“Well, I was supposed to go with him, but he got Yankees tickets so he's going to the game instead.”
I should mention that the event was being thrown by Beautiful People Against Bush, one of the tongue-in-cheek-yet-totally-serious political action committees that have popped up around town now that bashing Republicans has become fashionable. Don't get me wrong. I think it's great that my 18-to-24 demo is getting involved in the upcoming election, but too many of these events seem to be less about the Democratic Party and more about the party party. I mean, swilling “blue state” martinis (21⁄2 oz. vodka, 1⁄4 oz. blue curaçao) isn't exactly