Sloppy Firsts_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [67]
What always pissed me off about her whole perspective spiel was that she was writing off my feelings at that moment. If something crappy happens—say, when someone I thought was a friend betrays me for a book deal—my negative emotions are legit, right? It may not be as vivid as the crappiness one feels after contracting the Ebola virus, but it’s just as valid. It’s not my fault that these are the problems I’ve been put on this earth to deal with, right? They’re petty, they piss me off, and they’re all mine.
Besides, I’ve got perspective o’plenty. And to prove it, here are a few heretofore undocumented events that—in a less agitated stage of my life—inspired pages and pages worth of angst:
UNDOCUMENTED EVENT #1
"Bonjour, mademoiselle!"
It was the first day of school. The voice was unfamiliar. A baritone instead of a castrato. I turned to see who it was.
This wasn’t Pepe Le Pew. No, this was a different guy altogether. One who had grown four inches and gained twenty-five pounds of muscle in less than three months.
This was Pepe Le Puberty.
"Pep—I mean, Pierre!" I gasped. "You grew up!"
He puffed up with pride.
"Thanks."
"En français, s’il vous plaît," singsonged Madame Rogan. She didn’t care if we talked before class started, as long as it was in French.
"Comment était votre été?" ("How was your summer?")
"Eh. J’ai travaillé sur le boardwalk." ("Eh. I worked on the boardwalk.")
"Moi aussi." ("Me too.")
"Vraiment? Où? ("Really? Where?")
"J’étais … Le Geek." ("I was … The Geek.")
Jésus le Christ!
Pepe Le Puberty (né Le Pew) a.k.a. Pierre a.k.a. Percy Floyd a.k.a. The Black Elvis … was The Geek! The one who singlehandedly made the boardwalk’s most degrading job into the coolest position ever! My appreciation of Pepe had reached a whole new level.
Our conversation was cut short by Madame Rogan’s ramblings about her Francophilic summer vacation.
When the bell rang, I wanted to give Pepe props for being the best Geek of all time. Plus, I wanted to ask why he let himself get pulverized by paintballs that one depressing night. What had gotten him so down? I really wanted to know. He seemed invulnerable to that kind of sad resignation.
But I didn’t get the chance. Pepe bolted from his seat, sped out the door—and into the arms of a tiny, freckle-faced freshman gymnast named Drea something-or-other. The only reason I know her first name is because I overheard Burke and P.J. pointing her out and calling her a "spinner," as in, Sit on my dick and spin. Ack.
Just then I realized that Pepe’s voice and his bod weren’t the only things that had changed. Pepe hadn’t called me "ma belle." And that’s because I wasn’t anymore.
Undocumented Event #2
Bridget doesn’t know about Burke and Manda’s S.O.S. and therefore, when she gets all mushy-gushy, she’s totally unaware of how ridiculous she sounds.
"Going to L.A. didn’t get me any closer to being an actress, but it was like, the best thing that ever happened to my relationship with Burke," she says. "Like, he’s so much sweeter now."
Manda doesn’t know that I know about the S.O.S. Thus, when she gets all booey-hooey (whenever Bridget is out of earshot), she’s totally unaware of how transparent she sounds.
"Burke needs a strong woman," she says. "Bridget has been so clingy since she came back from L.A. Puh-leeze."
Sara doesn’t want Bridget to know that she and I both know about the S.O.S. Hence, when she gets all friends-to-the-endly, she is totally unaware of how on-the-brink-of-spilling-her-guts she sounds.
"Omigod! Let’s make sure junior year rocks," she says. "Let’s make more time for each other. Friends are forever!"
I don’t want anything to do with Bridget, Manda, Sara, and the S.O.S. So I say even less at lunch than usual, totally aware of how alone I am.
Undocumented Event #3
Scotty dumped his summer chauffeur and is now dating a cheesy freshman