Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [61]
“Oh, some e-mail that everyone got at school that I didn’t get,” I replied, as unsnotty as possible.
“Did you check your bulk-mail folder?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve put a pretty high junk-mail filter on there, so it might have been funneled into that folder.” Then he intelligently exited the room, probably well aware that he’d be pushing his luck if he pursued a lengthier conversation with his daughter.
I clicked onto my bulk-mail folder, and there, among the porn site spam (BARELY LEGAL LESBOS, REAL LIVE NYMPHOS, XXX!!! J. LO!!!XXX) was the message I was looking for. The subject: Pinevile Low. The sender: Blank. The message:
I’VE UNCOVERED THE DIRT, THE SHAKY FOUNDATION THAT KEEPS THIS SCHOOL TOGETHER.
Then, ten blind gossip items that were so exquisitely detailed that you knew exactly who they were about but that would probably hold up against defamation-of-character charges in court. Among the most notable (besides the items Sara had mentioned that slammed her and Manda) were the following:
WHAT VIDEO VIXEN’S HEARTBREAK LEFT HER BELIEVING THAT PINEVILE BOYS ARE BENEATH HER, AND IS NOW RESPONSIBLE FOR A RAMPANT, RAGING BLUE BALLS EPIDEMIC?
Bridget!
WHAT POPULAR, BEST LOOKING, MOST ATHLETIC GUY HAS IMPRESSED COLLEGE RECRUITERS WITH HIS LAYUPS ON THE COURT, BUT CAN’T GET IT UP FOR HIS SEXUALLY DEMANDING GIRLFRIEND-OF-THE-MOMENT?
SCOTTY!!
WHAT TYPE-A BRAINIAC HAS VOWED TO FINALLY HAVE SEX FOR THE FIRST TIME ON HOMECOMING NIGHT?
LEN!!!
(And indirectly, ME!!!)
Then, the comically ominous, sign-off.
YOU WERE CHOSEN TO RECEIVE THIS E-MAIL FOR A REASON. SHARE THIS WITH ANYONE AND YOU’LL FIND YOURSELF OUTED, OR YOU’LL GET IT WORSE THAN YOU DID THIS TIME AROUND. AND THERE WILL BE A NEXT TIME. MY EYES AND EARS ARE EVERYWHERE.
I could almost hear the Vincent Price laugher that comes at the tail end of Michael Jackson’s Thriller.
I know this sounds insane, but I was kind of relieved that I wasn’t totally overlooked, as it proves that I register a blip on the Pinevile radar. As much as I don’t care about those things, I think it’s human nature to not want to feel totally insignificant. Besides, I’ve got nothing to worry about. There’s nothing to out about me. Besides pissing into an empty yogurt container to provide Marcus with a drug-free urine sample sophomore year, I’ve done nothing of any scandalous importance. No one knows about the Dannon Incident but Marcus and me, and I doubt anyone would believe him if he decided to narc on me after all this time. The point is, I’ll go unscathed for as long as I continue to lead this sad, sexless existence.
And it will be sexless, too. I’m not taking what PL said about Len seriously. I mean, he can barely muster the courage to talk to me, and he blew a perfectly good opportunity to kiss me, so I seriously doubt that he has any designs on my bod. It was just someone’s idea of a joke. I forwarded it to him, though, because I think he deserves to know that someone is talking smack about him. I guess that’s the sort of thing that you’re supposed to do once you accept someone’s invitation to a formal. Maybe I should consult Bridget on the etiquette.
the seventeenth
This morning I called Len to talk to him about Pinevile Low. He needed to know that I didn’t think any less of him or anything. Plus, I was interested in knowing what he thought about it.
“Um. Okay. Weird. I’m surprised you sent it to me. Um.”
“Well, I thought you had a right to know.”
“Um. Right.”
“So don’t worry about it, okay?”
“I’m not. Um. Worried.”
“So we’re cool, then.”
“Yeah.”
After I got off the phone with Len, I went over Bridget’s to discuss who it could be.
“You can drop the act, Jess,” she replied. “You wrote it, didn’t you?”
“That’s exactly what Pepe said!” I cried.
“I know,” she said. “We’ve already talked about it. We both know you pretty well and, like, we think it’s you.”
“Bridget! It’s not me! Why does everyone think it’s me?”
“Look at the evidence,” she replied.
The Evidence
The perp is probably not someone outed in the e-mail. (“ You weren’t outed in the e-mail,” Bridget