Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [120]
“Do you agree?” I asked Pepe.
He nodded.
“Like with Len dumping you,” Bridget continued. “You were so busy worrying about Manda sleeping with Marcus that you didn’t even notice how much attention she was laying on your boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And with us. I think you were, like, so set on seeing Percy as your little French friend who had a crush on you, and me as someone who only dates pop stars and football players, that you couldn’t accept us as a couple, even though we didn’t do much to hide it in front of you.”
I wanted to change the subject because I did not like the fact that Bridget of all people had just psychoanalyzed me with such accuracy. Maybe she should study to be a shrink in college.
“But you lied,” I repeated dumbly.
“I, like, had to,” she said, turning to Pepe. “He was worth lying about.” Then she went on to explain how she hated how personal things got so public. Like how last year, everyone in school found out that Manda slept with Burke when he was supposedly so true to Bridget, or how her one stupid, insignificant date with Kayjay Johnson was still inspiring Hummers to drag her reputation through the dirt. She was tired of it. So when she and Pepe started falling for each other, they figured the best way to keep their love from getting tainted by outside influences was to keep it to themselves.
“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Bridget asked when she finished.
“Of course not,” I replied.
Then Pepe leaned over and kissed Bridget on the cheek, which skeeved me out.
It’s not just them. I can’t handle seeing any people I know sharing any form of intimacy. No surprise when it comes to nasty couples like Manda and Scotty, Manda and Len, or Manda and anyone, for that matter. But even with sweet couples that I’m rooting for, like Pepe and Bridget, I get grossed out when I see them holding hands or exchanging the driest kisses.
I used to think that my inability to deal with others’ PDAs meant that I was jealous, or maybe just incredibly immature—that is, until I caught a glimpse of myself in action, and got even more freaked out than I did when I saw someone else. I’d catch glimpses of Len and me fooling around in his rearview mirror and it was like, EWWWWWWWWWW. Who are those people?
I knew not to open my eyes yesterday, because if I caught a glimpse in the mirror and saw what I was doing and what Marcus was doing— what we were doing—I knew I wouldn’t do it anymore, even though every last cell in my body was telling me to please, please, please keep going, going, going . . .
Gone.
the fifth
You are not going to believe this. I still don’t believe it myself.
Gladdie left behind nearly a half-million dollars in cash and investments.
No one in my family knew she was so loaded. Not even G-Money, whom she had consulted for financial advice years ago. He had no idea that she’d actually listened to his investment strategies. What’s more, unlike G-Money, she had the sense to cash out before the crash.
An even bigger kick in the head? Her financial savvy was well known at Silver Meadows.
“She loved the stocks,” Moe said.
“She did?” asked my dad, mom, sister, and I.
“It was a hobby for her,” he said.
“It was?” we asked.
“She’d spend hours pouring over the bulls and the bears in the Wall Street Journal,” Moe said. “That’s what she called the stock indexes. The bulls and the bears.”
“Really?”
“And she never missed the Money Honey on CNN,” he said.
“Gladdie loved that gal.”
The Darling/Doczylkowski family just stood there, mouths agape. Some money was left to charities, but most of it was for the four of us, the next of kin, with a huge chunk of it—50K!!!!—going to yours truly.
And in classic Gladdie fashion, she was very specific about how I should use it:
“This money is to be spent doing what it is that you want to do, J.D. If you don’t know what that is, don’t spend