Perfect Fifths_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [39]
The words have barely escaped her lips when her eye catches the coin-op feminine product dispenser. This inspires another protective layer of subterfuge.
Aha! she thinks. I’ll fake my period, too!
This is not the first time Jessica has faked her period. The first time she faked her period, she was (ahem) sixteen years old and motivated to do so for very different reasons. When she was a sophomore in high school, she stopped menstruating. Since she was a virgin with a vacuum-packed hymen, this wasn’t cause for contraceptive alarm; however, her mother feared the pubescent reversal could be the sign of a more serious medical problem. To assuage her mother’s fears, every twenty-eight days, Jessica dramatically doubled over in cramps and ostentatiously disposed of (unused) tampon applicators in trash cans all over the house. Jessica Darling was the Meryl Streep of bogus menses.
Now she loudly pounds the machine with her fist, waits for a minute to pass, then at last emerges from the bathroom to find Marcus unmoved from his spot.
“I had a fight with the tampon dispenser,” Jessica explains.
A puzzled look passes across Marcus’s face.
“I won. I got what I needed. For you know. My period.”
Marcus is more confused than discomforted by this menstrual non sequitur. He senses that Jessica is awaiting some sort of response. He relents in the form of a simpleminded “Okay.”
Jessica follows up with a theatrical, tubercular cough. “Oh, and I have a cold,” she says through her nose. “A nasty one, too. You should probably keep your distance.”
“Okay,” Marcus says again, this time taking a giant step backward for effect.
nineteen
They resume walking, destination undecided.
“I missed my flight,” Jessica explains, remembering to talk through her nose. “I’ve got two hours–ish until I find out whether I can get out of here on standby.” She pauses. “Wait, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
Marcus doesn’t hesitate. “No classes right now; it’s the reading period before finals.” He goes on to say that Princeton sticks to the old-fashioned system of administrating final exams after the students return from winter break. “I’ve only got one in-class exam, and it’s not until next week. So I don’t have to be on campus right now.”
“Does that mean you’re coming or going?”
This time Marcus takes a few steps forward before responding. “Both. And neither.”
Jessica has to physically restrain herself from throwing up her hands in exasperation and fleeing in the opposite direction. Two seconds into their first conversation in over three years, and he’s already speaking in typically cryptic tongues.
Marcus is nearly knocked over by the waves of angry energy. He knows he must choose his next words carefully. “A trip to New Orleans. Overbooked. Next flight leaves tomorrow.”
These obfuscating half-sentences aren’t lies. (There was a trip to New Orleans. There was an overbooked flight he looked into. His next flight does leave tomorrow.) But they don’t reveal the full truth. (He returned from New Orleans. The overbooked flight is the one leaving in two hours, which Jessica has little hope of getting on. Tomorrow’s flight is the same as Jessica’s, departing for St. Thomas.) To his relief, his misleading explanation seems to satisfy Jessica, who nods as if she understands.
Marcus knows the next question is risky. But he can’t quell his curiosity. Why is she—and now he—headed to the Virgin Islands? A winter getaway is the logical answer, but he suspects it’s not the right one. Jessica doesn’t seem to be in a frivolous-vacation frame of mind.
“What about you? What’s in St. Thomas?”
“Well, I’m actually headed to St. John, but I have to fly in to St. Thomas and take the ferry—” Jessica stops dead, chokes on her breath, coughs for real. “Wait. How did you know I was flying to St. Thomas?”
Marcus feigns nonchalance. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”
Jessica turns to stone.