Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [22]
“Well, Taryn never mentioned that she liked my editorials.”
“She really looks up to you.”
“I had no idea,” I said, strangely proud to be admired by Paul Parlipiano’s semi-sister. “She never mentioned that you were her sorta brother.”
His face dropped slightly. “Well, she got into some trouble when she was a freshman.” He was intentionally vague, but I knew all too well what Incident he was alluding to. “And it made her lose her sense of self. She has no confidence.”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“She doesn’t have a problem with my sexual orientation, but she knows that PHS isn’t the most enlightened place on earth.”
Now, I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle this moment of semi-disclosure. I mean, I already knew that he was gay. Should I just wink to let him know he didn’t have to say more?
“That’s why she loved your editorials. They made her feel like she wasn’t alone,” he continued. “It’s tough to be different at Pineville. Whether it’s her type of different, or my type of different, or yours.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
“Coming here has been so great. It’s the first place where I felt like I could finally be myself, and find others who are just like me. Or people who weren’t like me at all, but would accept me as I was, anyway.”
Could such a place exist?
“I got involved with PACO, People Against Conformity and Oppression.”
“Is that, uh, a gay and lesbian organization?”
“Well, there are gays in the group, but that’s not what we’re about.
We’re an organized resistance to a world of greedy narcissism and complacency.”
“Like Key Club on steroids?”
“Not exactly.”
“Are you socialists?”
“Some of us are, but we’re really a true democracy. There are no elected leaders; there’s no hierarchy.”
I couldn’t really think of anything legitimately cool to say, so I just said, “Cool.”
“It is cool,” he said, smiling. “Unlike other, more notable anarchist groups, we believe firmly in nonviolent protest. We work within the system to try to effect change, and work outside of the system to put the heat on those who can make change. Just like you did with your articles.”
Wow. Wow. Wow. Holy shit. Wow.
“We don’t think that your beliefs should be one thing and your actions another,” Paul Parlipiano continued. “They should be one and the same.”
I do, too. I really do. Yet I still manage to have an easier time thinking about things instead of doing things. Maybe an organization like this is what I need. There was something I needed to know, though.
“Do you feel like . . .” I grasped for the right word, couldn’t find it, then just went with the first one. “Like a moron at Columbia?”
Duh. Duh. Duh. I felt moronic as soon as I said it.
“Not that you’re a moron! I mean, it’s just that it was a huge deal when you got into Columbia, because it’s a huge deal whenever anyone from Pineville gets into an Ivy League school, because it’s only had about three students get accepted to Ivy League schools in a bizillion years, and I think two of them dropped out before the end of freshman year to go to Rutgers—not that Rutgers is a bad school or anything, but it’s not Columbia, you know . . .”
He sipped his coffee while I babbled on.
“And I know I’m not a moron, either. But I worry that I’m only Pineville smart. And if I went to an Ivy League school with real students from real high schools . . .”
I realized that my get-into-the-Ivy-League intensity hadn’t faded after all. It had just transformed itself into don’t-get-into-the-Ivy-League inadequacy.
“I know what you mean,” he said when I had finally faded out. “It was a little intimidating at first. I felt really ignorant about cultural things that were embedded in my classmates’ DNA. But that’s no reason to go to another, less-intimidating school. Do you want to live in your ignorance forever? I think you could use a challenge, don’t you?”
I nodded my head. Yes, I did.
“Everyone could benefit from a challenge.” His voice grew stronger, with more conviction.