Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [104]
“Then why did you even apply?”
This was the third perfect opportunity to tell the truth. I applied to Piedmont because at the time, I was too scared to apply to the school I really wanted to attend, the one you won’t let me attend even if I get in. That’s what I should have said.
But for the third time, I pussed out. And I pussed out because I suck. Suckity suck suck.
the fifteenth
Finally a Jessica-free edition of Pinevile Low I could enjoy.
WHAT RICHIE-RICH THROW-DOWN THROWER RECENTLY EXPLODED OUT OF HER EARL JEANS BECAUSE SHE STILL THINKS SHE’S A SIZE 2?
Sara, of course. Ha!
With one less thing to worry about today, I decided to finally have a talk with Pepe about Bridget. He’s been hanging around her a lot lately, and I just can’t stand to see him crushed. I’m very sensitive to these types of heartbreaks for obvious reasons. When I accused him of having a crush on Bridget, Pepe issued denials faster than Whitney Houston’s publicists after a bout of “dehydration.”
“Connerie! Bridget a eu un boyfriend célèbre!
(“Bullshit! Bridget had a famous boyfriend!”)
“Elle a eu une rendez-vous avec Geai de Kay. Et il n’est pas si célèbre.”
(“She had one date with Kayjay. And he’s not that famous.”)
“Pourquoi un POA chaude comme Bridget me choisirait? Je souhaite!”
(“Why would a hot POA like Bridget choose me? I wish!”)
“Bien, uh... Elle ne va pas. C’est pourquoi je t’ai dit de l’oublier.”
(“Well, uh . . . She wouldn’t. Which is why I’ve been trying to tell you to forget her.”)
“Ne t’inquiètes pas de moi. Je suis copacetic.
(“Don’t worry about me. I’m copacetic.”)
Later, I tried to urge Bridget to spend less time with him so she wouldn’t lead him on.
“I would never carry on a secret relationship with anyone, especially someone I’ve worked with,” she said.
“Are you sure? I think he might be hot for you.”
“Jess, that’s so, like, unprofessional.”
“But . . .”
Bridget wasn’t about to explore this topic any further because she had revenge on her mind.
“But nothing. We’ve got more important stuff to, like, think about!” she said, holding up a page torn out of the New York Times. “We are going to finally face off with Hy!”
I looked at the clipping. Miss Hyacinth Anastasia Wallace was doing a reading and signing at a bookstore on March 28—the same day I’m supposed to meet Paul Parlipiano in NYC.
“I’ll take the bus with you, since I’m going in that day already,” I replied.
“Oh,” she said. “Is that the day of the big Lizard Walk?”
“Snake March,” I said, so aglow with the prospect of spending the day with my crush-to-end-all-crushes that I could easily ignore her nonchalant ignorance. “It’s PACO’s biggest nondiscriminatory demonstration against all forms of tyranny.”
Bridget sighed. “He’s gay, Jess.”
“I know. What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s just that since Len dumped you, you’ve kind of, like, gotten re-obsessed with Paul Parlipiano.”
“Uh . . . I have not!”
She stuck her ponytail in her mouth and mumbled a “Whatever.”
Okay, maybe I have gotten a little too excited about the Snake March, but I was just publicly humiliated by my ex-boyfriend and Skankier, whose hand-holding and pecks on the cheek are just too nauseatingly chaste to be for real. Is it so wrong for me to want to focus my energy on someone who seems to have only the best intentions for me? It’s merely coincidence that he just happens to be my former obsessive object of horniness, my crush-to-end-all-crushes.
“I know he’s gay and that there’s no chance of anything happening,” I said. “It’s just that I think it’s cool that I’ve received an invitation from someone I thought would never, ever know I even existed.”
“A gay someone,” she clarified unnecessarily.
I just glared.
“Well, if your nondiscriminatory protest with your gay date doesn’t, like, rock your world, you can always meet up with me at the bookstore to give Hy a piece of your mind.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Aren’t you, like, still pissed?” she asked, her aquamarine