Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [88]
Then he cleared his throat and delivered a sermon about the importance of respecting one’s elders, especially those who brought us into the world and have fed us and clothed us and provided shelter for us, so it behooves us to be fine, upstanding members of the household, and in order to do that, we need to be truthful.
“SO YOU TOLD HER THAT I GOT HIGH AND ALMOST HAD SEX WITH YOU IN HER CAR?” I said this a lot louder than one should say something that one wants to keep a secret.
“Um. Yes.”
No wonder Mrs. Levy has been treating me like a drug-addled skank who wants to deflower her fine, upstanding son. BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I AM. AND SHE KNOWS IT. I am going to have to launch into wholesome, overachieving overdrive if I want to win her over, which I do, mostly because every parent who has ever met me has loved me, and I just can’t stand the idea of Len’s mom not loving me, especially since I’m the person dating her son.
As disturbing as this is, it doesn’t explain how the Mystery Muckraker found out about New Year’s Eve. This morning, in Times New Roman glory, my misdeeds were made public.
WHAT NEVER-DO-WRONG BRAINIACS DELAYED THEIR DOUBLE DEFLOWERING AFTER HE FOUND OUT THAT SHE HAD GOTTEN HIGH WITH THE MOST POPULAR, BEST LOOKING ATHLETE?
My decided course of action: Deny, deny, deny! I never considered for one second that I’d be issuing denials of an entirely different sort.
“Omigod!” Sara wailed, clutching the e-mail in one hand and pointing a plump finger with the other. “It’s totally you!”
I had anticipated this, but that didn’t stop me from gnawing on my lip. “What is it totally me?”
“This proves that you are totally behind Pinevile Low!”
“What?”
“Omigod! You are so totally the one writing all this stuff! I swear I am going to hire a detective! I swear it!”
“How does this prove that it’s me?” I asked, perplexed by her logic.
“Because you know we’re on to you! So you posted items about yourself!”
“Why would I want to damage my reputation like that?”
“Puh-leeze!”
Manda had emancipated herself from her homeroom for this confrontation.
“Puh-leeze, what?”
“No one would ever believe that Pineville’s very own virgin queen would ever do anything illegal or immoral! Miss Perfect! Miss I Don’t Do Anything Wrong!”
Manda’s strident hysterics revived Rico Suave from his pre-coffee coma. “Miss Powers, where are you supposed to be right now?”
Manda was not about to be silenced. “But if you think I’m just going to let you boost your ego with false claims about my boyfriend, you are sadly mistaken.” And she marched off, leaving Rico Suave and the rest of the class to wonder what the hell had just happened.
When the bell rang, Marcus came up to me and said, “Told you so.”
He had, you know. Told me so. Only I didn’t write about it when it happened because I felt like it conflicted with my efforts to focus all my energy on Len. But now it seems sort of necessary.
I felt like I had to thank Marcus for how he handled himself at Helga’s. His version of our history wasn’t the full truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. Quite frankly, I don’t know how I would describe what happened between us if I was hooked up to a polygraph.
Not to get all philosophical, but what is reality anyway, when no two people can ever see the same thing in the same exact way? Reality is a lot more subjective than people like to think it is. People like Len want to believe that there are definitive answers to everything because it gives the illusion of order in what is really just a crazy, chaotic, messed-up world. When it comes down to it, isn’t reality just a matter of one person’s opinion versus another’s?
That said, Marcus’s version of our history, in my opinion, is as good as any, only better because it managed to salvage my relationship with Len.
I was paranoid about Pinevile Low, and had given up any hope of conducting any conversation of substance at school. So this past weekend, I showed up at Silver Meadows when I knew he’d be there.
“Well, well, well,” Gladdie yowled. “Lookie who we’ve got here!”
“Hey, Gladdie,