Fourth Comings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [103]
“I’m not that innocent.”
“I’m not that in-no-cent,” sang-shouted Dexy. She bit open the tip of the plastic wrapper, spit it across the kitchenette, and blithely ignored my look of disgust. “Fifty-one point two.”
I sighed.
“What’s that?” Manda asked.
Dexy pulled at a thread of white processed-cheese product. “J’s score on the MIT-created, Yale-perfected Unisex Ominsexual Five-Hundred-Question Purity Test, version 4.0.”
One slow night in the dorm during our sophomore year, a bunch of us sat around doing shots and answering this most comprehensive survey of sexual experiences, with yes-or-no questions that ranged from “Have you ever kissed a friend or stranger on their hands or their head/neck region as a friendly gesture?” to “Have you ever engaged in sexual congress with a corpse?” What is most stunning to me now, in retrospect, is not the salacious nature of the questions, or our willingness to answer them in front of mixed company, but the fact that we had so much free time to devote to such inanities.
“Oh, I took that,” Manda said, yawning. “I’m a ninety-two point eight.”
“I’m ninety-three point one! With a plus/minus of point five percent, that makes us even!” Dexy and Manda high-fived. “Fifty-one point two,” Dexy repeated, just in case Manda didn’t get it the first time around. “That’s ten points below the average. You are…that…innocent!” Dexy bleated before giving me a playful squeeze.
“She doesn’t have it in her to be a slut,” said Manda. “Her one foray into slatternly behavior can only be qualified as a complete and utter disaster.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked with irritation.
“Len called me back,” she said.
“Hmm,” I replied.
“Who’s Len?” Dexy asked.
“The love of my life,” Manda replied.
“Oh, puh-leeze,” I said, mocking Manda without her even realizing it.
“Well, he could have been the love of my life if you hadn’t, like, totally traumatized him when you stole his virginity.”
“What are you talking about?” Dexy was enthralled.
Manda smirked. “Because of your vagina dentate, he’s renewed his vow of celibacy. You’ve turned him off pussy for good!”
“Who’s Len?” Dexy asked me. “And did he really say that?” she asked Manda.
“Len is someone I dated in high school who dumped me to date Manda,” I said. “Manda dumped him to date Shea. And this week Manda dumped Shea and wants Len back….”
Manda tapped her foot impatiently. “You forgot the part about fucking him last summer and turning him off pussy for good!”
Dexy literally flipped her wig. “J!” she cried, picking her fake hair up off the floor. “You slut!”
“Thanks for ruining my last chance at true love,” Manda continued.
“Manda, I didn’t want to have to do this.” I sighed.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Let you hear the messages Len left on my cell after you spoke to him.”
I wasn’t going to let you in on them, either. Doing so seemed rather gratuitous and possibly hurtful, which is why I hadn’t mentioned them until now, even though I first heard them yesterday morning on the bus to Pineville.
Three messages left on my cell in the middle of the night give credence to your long-held belief that too much conversation inevitably leads to someone saying something best kept to himself. I will now let Len Levy’s own words speak—inarticulately and elliptically yet honestly—for themselves.
Message Number One
“Jess. Um. Hey there. It’s, um…Len. I know this is out of the blue but…um…maybe Manda told you that we talked. And I just want you to know that I led her to believe some things that weren’t true, just because she caught me off guard, and I didn’t know what else to say, and now I feel bad about it, which is why I’m calling you. What’s the best way to reach you, anyway? So. Um. Manda told me she was still in love with me. And that the whole thing with Shea was a big mistake. Can you believe her nerve?