Sloppy Firsts_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [86]
That’s how it happened this year in my house, anyway.
I woke up from my food coma at eight P.M.There was nothing to do. It was too early to call Marcus. I always called him at midnight. That was our schedule. That’s how we did it. However, I thought maybe everything was happening earlier for him, too. So I picked up the phone and dialed his digits.
One ring. Two ring. Three rings.
Then an unfamiliar click, kicking me into voice mail. "Marcus here, but I’m not really here …"
I panicked and hung up before he finished. I couldn’t bring myself to leave a message. Leaving him a message was so … desperate or something.
At midnight, as was our custom, I called again.
No answer again.
This was the first time Marcus had not been there for me and I was really rattled by it. I almost had to tape my hands together to stop myself from calling every five minutes until he picked up. The only reason I didn’t do it is because I don’t know if he has caller ID. I didn’t want him to see my number backlogged a bizillion times. That’s psycho stuff.
I was kind of glad this happened because it helped me to come to my senses: I will not call him anymore. I’m giving this whatever relationship way too much power. Yes, he helps me sleep through the night. Yes, he makes me feel like a better person when I wake up. But if I continue using Marcus as my Tylenol PM, I might get addicted to him. And no twelve-step program has a cure for that.
Besides, it’s not like I’m his girlfriend or anything. Then it would be different. Then I’d have a right to be upset by his absence. But I’m not. So I’ve got to get a grip. Or rather, I’ve got to loosen it. As part of that, I will make a point not to even think of him and Mia at the homecoming dance tomorrow night.
I just can’t believe it, though. It’s harder than I thought.
the twenty-fourth
Black Friday.
How appropriate, I thought, when I woke up after a restless, Marcus-less night. Why did I ever take it upon myself to brighten my mother’s birthday? Where did I get off improving anyone else’s mood?
She was already dressed and ready to go when I went down for breakfast.
"Happy birthday, Mom."
"I thought you were never going to get up!" she said. "I was going to wake you but I know how cranky you get!"
It’s her birthday, I said to myself. Don’t be a bitch.
"It’s already ten-thirty!" she said, pointing to her watch. "We’ve got to get out there if we’re going to find anything! I’m sure the stores have already been ransacked by now!"
It’s her birthday. It’s her birthday. It’s her birthday. Don’t be a bitch. Don’t be a bitch. Don’t be a bitch.
I shoved a fistful of dry Cap’n Crunch in my mouth and headed back upstairs to get dressed. I spent five minutes standing in front of my closet in my underwear, contemplating the outfit that would be least likely to offend. I settled on a pair of tan cords and a beige hoodie. Neutrals. Neutrality. Peace.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face, stuck a barrette in my hair, and spread Carmex on my lips. Seven minutes after I’d gone up, I was back down in the kitchen.
"Let’s go."
My mother popped out of her seat with surprise. "Already?"
"This is as good as it gets, Mom."
"You know," she said, grabbing her camel coat, "that’s the advantage of going out with you instead of Bethany. I don’t have to wait forever for you to get ready."
Well, I was certainly glad there was any advantage. That’s one more than I’d thought there was.
The mall put up its Christmas decorations before Halloween. So the red and green jingle-bellsy atmosphere might have gotten me in a holiday spirit, but who the hell knows which one.
"Isn’t this fun?" my mom said, cutting off the circulation in my arm with