Sloppy Firsts_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [103]
Without Marcus, would my body ever have caught up with my brain?
I have no clue what to think about Marcus anymore. But I am certain of one thing: I have to do what I should’ve done ages ago.
January 1st
Hope,
Your plane touched down in Newark about an hour and a half ago. Any minute now, your parents’ rental car will drop you off in my driveway. I can’t wait until you’re here and I can hand-deliver this letter. Until then, I’m writing. Waiting.
By the time you read this, I will have already told you everything. Everything.
God, I hope you’re reading this. I mean, I hope you don’t hate me so much that you rip it up without looking at it first.
I can’t see you doing that.
I wanted to tell you all that stuff about Marcus sooner. But I just wasn’t ready. I was afraid that my "whatever" relationship with him would ruin the real relationship I had with you. And though I didn’t feel right hiding it from you, it wasn’t something I wanted to tell you on paper, over the phone, or via the information superhighway. It was face-to-face stuff. Heart-to-heart stuff.
Stuff I’m dying to tell you right now.
I’m just wasting time until you arrive.
Instead of making New Year’s resolutions, I’m starting to think about The Real World. And how weird it must be for cast members to see themselves in reruns. I mean, they’ve moved on with their lives. But whenever there’s a Real World marathon they have to relive moments that they probably would’ve forgotten about had they not been immortalized on video and broadcast to millions of TV viewers.
I wonder how I’d feel if I saw this year of my life on TV. Even with good editing, it would be tough to take. So many crazy-good and crazy-bad things have happened since you left. I thought I knew people so well. Marcus. Hy. Scotty. Bridget. Paul Parlipiano. Pepe. Even my mom. But they all blindsided me. And the thing is, I know people will continue to shock me next year, and the year after that. Forever.
I just realized that if I had been on The Real World this year, you never would’ve made an appearance on the show with me. That seems so strange, considering the huge influence you have on my life, every single day. Obviously our friendship will never be the way it was before you moved. And if we try to force it to be that way, we’ll fail. But for the first time I can remember, I’m optimistic about both our friendship and the future in general.
Maybe it’s because I hear your car in the driveway. You’re here. Finally here.
Love, J.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks go out to:
My agent, Joanna Pulcini, whose very first words to me ("You’re Megan? I love your book!") I will always appreciate, and never forget.
John Searles, whose incredibly generous introduction made it possible for me to hear those words at all.
My editor, Kristin Kiser, whose appreciation of the title told me everything I neeed to know about her understanding of Jessica Darling’s world. Her assistant, Claudia Gabel, who also gave me precisely the feedback I needed to write the book that I’d always wanted to read. And everyone at Crown—especially Steve Ross and Andy Martin—whose enthusiasm confirmed that this book would appeal to readers of both sexes who were way beyond high school.
Liza Nelligan and Kate Burns, whose early suggestions helped me figure out why I was telling this story, and the best way to do it.
The ill-fated writers group—particularly Nancy Miller—who had no clue that a positive review of a ten-page short story would encourage me to quit my job and write a novel.
Alan, Ellen, and Sean McCafferty, whose W.T. tales were an invaluable source of humorous inspiration.
Ryan Fitzmorris, for being a master storyteller in his own right. And Renée Darling, who was gracious enough to let me steal her last name.
Sean, Donna, and Caitlyn Fitzmorris, for making Tuesday my favorite day of the week.
My parents, Tom and Laurie Fitzmorris, whose unique combination