Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [57]
He’s using his wisdom to help Len get laid.
“Are you using your wisdom to help Len get laid?!”
He chuckled. “Hey, whatever happens between you two is your business, not mine. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about dealing with you, Jessica Darling, it’s that I shouldn’t get too involved in your personal, private business.”
This was unbelievable. He’s crazier than Mariah Carey on the Glitter press junket.
“Don’t you think it’s sort of a conflict of interest?” I asked.
“What?”
“Less than a year ago, you wanted to get into my pants!”
“That’s not fair, Jessica,” he said. “First of all, it was ten months ago, which is Paleolithic by high-school relationship standards. Second, your pants weren’t the only thing I was trying to get into. And third, when you said ‘Fuck you,’ I took it as a subtle hint that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. So even if I wanted to get into your pants at one point in time, I had to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Wanting.”
“Oh.”
“So there’s no conflict of interest.”
Then he proceeded to tell me that he and Len have gotten tight over the past year, especially when he joined the band this summer. After many rehearsals, Len finally confessed to Marcus that he admired my intelligence and my bravery for standing up for myself in my editorials (R.I.P.). He also happened to think that I was “quite attractive.” So Marcus revealed that we had been sort of friends last year, and knew quite a bit about me. Then Len begged Marcus to help him woo me or whatever and Marcus agreed. Now here we were.
“But I didn’t give him details about all the things we talked about,” he said. “I gave him generalities. Let him find out the juicy stuff for himself.”
“Marcus, why are you doing this?”
“Because that’s the way dating works. Len’s my friend. You’re my . . . well, we were friends, and now we’re friends on the mend. If I can help you and Len get together, why shouldn’t I?”
Why shouldn’t he, indeed? There was no reason why this shouldn’t be true, other than the fact that it came from his lips. I couldn’t quite buy it. This whole conversation was just too logical to be right. His answers came too quickly, too correctly. It made the whole thing suspect. I just knew that Marcus wasn’t telling me everything, but I wasn’t about to beg him for details.
“I guess so.”
Then, right as the conversation was drawing to a close—BAM!— instantaneous mental clickage. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. This insight didn’t give me all the answers, but helped me muster just enough moxie to have the final word.
“Again, I must compliment you on your costume.”
“You liked it.”
“You saw the DVD at my house, so you knew that I would,” I replied. “But there’s just one thing that doesn’t make sense.”
“And what’s that?”
“Well, if you’re really looking out for Len’s best sexual interests, I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t tell him to dress like Leon to impress me. Think about that for a while.”
And I hung up.
Marcus doesn’t really want me with Len! He only wants me to think he wants me with Len!
Why???!!! I have no idea! But it doesn’t matter right now! Victory is mine! I’m too excited! I must stop this abuse of exclamation points!
Calm down.
I won the phone call outright. By the way, it felt better than every first place in a race combined and multiplied a bizillion times over. It was only after I put the phone down that I remembered that I never found out whether he would be at Silver Meadows today. I decided not to risk my champion status with a rematch and stayed home. Gladdie wouldn’t miss me. She’s got Moe to keep her company.
the tenth
Marcus has backed off ever since I blew a hole in his “I’m helping Len” alibi. Silently and simultaneously, we decided to take a nonantagonistic yet not-quite-tight approach to dealing with each other. We talk, but not really.
“Hey, Jessica,” he says.
“Hey, Marcus,” I say.
“How’s Len?” he asks.
“Len’s fine,” I reply.
“That’s good,” he says.