Sloppy Firsts_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [11]
The meeting is just about to get under way when Scotty comes up to me all outraged and yells, "Jess! Why are you showing everyone your tits? Today isn’t Whip ’Em Out Wednesday!"
And then Bridget says, "And it’s not like she has much to show off."
And then Marcus Flutie says, "But she has a lot to hide on the inside."
Then I announce to them and everyone at the student council meeting that I’m conducting an experiment. I’m testing how comfortable everyone is with the sight of my breasts. The auditorium, which is now standing-room-only because the entire student body is there, bursts into applause.
Then Paul Parlipiano whispers in my ear, "I thought you were being a tease. But now that I know it was an experiment, I admire you."
I could lie and say that’s when we have hot-buttered sex right there on the stage in front of 800 screaming students. But unfortunately for me, that’s when I woke up. Christ, I can’t even touch him in my dreams.
Dreams are so weird, aren’t they? I mean, you can’t control who shows up in them. Like when I saw Marcus Flutie in homeroom today, my stomach bungeed down to my toes, then sprang up into to my throat. I was actually worried that he somehow knew that he was in my dream last night. Of course, he didn’t even look up from the notebook he’s always scribbling in. He’ll never know. But it makes me wonder if I was in anyone’s dreams last night.
(No, Scotty’s masturbation fantasies don’t count.)
February 1st
Hope,
Okay. My Bitter Sixteen is officially over. I’ve opened up all my birthday presents and your mosaic is still by far the best one. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.
My love for your present above all others isn’t a coincidence. Did you ever notice that how much you dig a gift all depends on the giver? For example, Paul Parlipiano could’ve given me a filthy wad of gum scraped off the bottom of his shoe and it would’ve rocked my world. OH MY GOD! YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE TO ALL THIS TROUBLE FOR LITTLE OL’ ME. DID THIS GUM COME FROM YOUR VERY OWN MOUTH?
On the other end of the spectrum is Scotty. He gave me a rose before homeroom. Though this was a nice gesture, I didn’t feel like carrying it around all day. But I couldn’t just stuff it in my locker, so I was forced to field questions from the Clueless Crew all damn day. Who bought you the flower? Why would he buy you a flower if he didn’t want to go out? Are you going out? Why aren’t you going out?
Maybe I’d be more psyched about the flower if Scotty weren’t currently going by the name "Mike Ockenballz." Referring to each other with double-entendred nicknames has replaced Purple Nurple Pursuit as the latest diversion of choice for Scotty and his friends.
Burke Roy is now "Hugh G. Reckshun."
Rob Driscoll is now "Heywood Jablomie."
P. J. Carvello is now "Adolf Oliver Bush."
I’m the only girl who doesn’t think this is the cutest thing ever.
As for the rest of my birthday, it came and went, and Paul Parlipiano did not come within 100 yards, let alone share a sweaty 5x5 closet with me. And there was nary a sign of the Breast Fairy. Maybe she’s holding out for next year, when the combo of mondo boobage and a driver’s license will make me a major man-killer. Figuratively speaking.
No party, either, which was only slightly less depressing than having one would’ve been. My mom bought a carrot cake from a bakery that made the criminal mistake of using plain-vanilla frosting instead of the cream-cheese kind. I wanted to go off on how it would be nice if even the smallest thing went right for me. Cream-cheese frosting could have easily met that need. That isn’t too much to ask for, is it?
But then I saw the way my mom was looking at me. She was feeling sorry for me. I was her lame-ass, loser daughter, whose birthday would never be as sweet as her own sixteenth, or Bethany’s—both of which were celebrated with a huge catered party for a few dozen of their nearest and dearest friends. What can be more pathetic than that?
I lost the nerve to say something snotty. She and my dad sang "Happy Birthday" and I blew out my candles. I opened