Perfect Fifths_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [17]
Sunny Dae would find Jessica’s situation downright uproarious. Jessica could see Sunny tucking in her arms, legs, and head, shrinking herself into a seed pod as she always did when life’s hilarity was too much to handle, before—BAM!—bursting wide-open like a trigger-sprung blossom when she couldn’t contain her laughter any longer.
“Who else?” Jessica imagined Sunny asking. “Who else but Jessica Darling would find herself on a line full of middle-aged Barry Manilow fans?”
Jessica grimace-grins at the twenty members of the BMIFC whose spirits have been lifted by the revelation that there is another one of their own in their midst. She presses TALK on her phone.
“Hey, Hope,” she says, having no idea what she will say next to her best friend.
eleven
Marcus needs a plan. He can spy on Jessica Darling from behind this bank of pay phones for only so long. Eventually, she will make her way to the front of the line, then off the line, then out of the Clear Sky customer service center altogether. And he must have a strategy for what he’ll do when that occurs.
He already has part of the plan in order. That’s the part where he follows her wherever she goes next and tries to engage her in a second conversation. It’s the rest that needs work. The way he sees it, he has two options: (1) lie or (2) tell the truth.
He could stage another accident. Wow! Here we are again! You were craving a Nathan’s Famous pretzel dog, too? Wow. Uncanny. Your next flight leaves in six hours? Wow. Mine leaves right after that … Uncanny …
Marcus lowers his head in shame, burying his face in the fake potted ferns atop the phone bank. Dust flies off the silk leaves, tickles his nose, and triggers a convulsive series of sneezes. “AW-CHOO-WAH!”
Marcus has barely recovered when he’s overtaken by a second spasm. “AW-CHOO-WAH!”
And another. “AW-CHOO-WAH!”
He’s being blessed by strangers on all sides as he stands with his head tipped back, eyes shut, mouth agape, hand waving in a come on, come on gesture as he waits to be overtaken by the next nasal paroxysm.
“AW-CHOO-WAH! AW-CHOO-WAH!”
He hesitates before opening his eyes, now teary with histamines. But his nose is still tingling, There’s still one more in there, he’s thinking, when it comes.
“AW-CHOO-WAH!”
The blessings continue, but he is cursed. He surrendered all worries to this unrestrained reflex, and now that the sneezing fit is over, his worries have returned. While he rebukes the urban legend equating sneezes and orgasms, they did serve as a momentary mind eraser, making Marcus consider whether he should escape reality by snorting dust mites the way drug addicts Hoover opiates.
His senses fully restored, Marcus reconsiders his options. An orchestrated run-in? Never! How could he have considered such a preposterous lie even for a moment? And not only because he has a longstanding policy against mendacity. Jessica would instantly see through the loserish ruse and abandon what remaining respect she may or may not have for him. And as he catches another glimpse of Jessica through the layers of frayed silk leaves—she’s talking on her cell phone now—he can’t help but take her side. However, the truth wouldn’t fare much better, now, would it? Hey, Jessica. I have no reason to still be in this airport, and I’ve been stalking you for the last hour … Too much, too soon, too creepy.
There is a minor commotion at the Clear Sky customer service center. It’s difficult