Second Helpings (23 page)

Ive realized that all that stuff about seeing Fourth of July fireworks is bullshit, propaganda promoted by the people responsible for Meg Ryan movies and the Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus books. I havent seen so much as a lit match.

That doesnt mean that I dont like kissing Len, because I do. Id say on the scale of guys Ive kissed, he comes way ahead of Scotty, and pulls a squeaker against Cal (though Cal got points taken off by assuming our one and only kiss meant that he could jump my bones right there on the golf course during my sisters wedding reception). Lens lips are soft and pleasant. He pays attention to what my mouth, lips, and tongue are doing to him, and responds in kind with an almost technical precision. Ill bet Len takes the same approach to fooling around as he does to academics. He studies hard, applies himself, and eventually masters the material. Its a good thing hes a quick learner. And when it comes down to it, kissing him is more enjoyable than not kissing anyone.

Its also a good way to get my mind off my Columbia dilemma.

Ever since I saw Paul Parlipiano at the Anti-Homecoming, I cant get Columbia off my mind. I see a future for me there. Whenever Ive tried to superimpose Amherst, Piedmont, Swarthmore, or Williams in the visual, it never works. Then again, when I try to picture myself as Lens girlfriendwhich I am I have trouble doing that, too. My minds imaginings obviously have little do to with reality.

the eleventh

This is how Bridget greeted me this morning:

AAAIIIEEEEEEH!

I didnt even have to look at the magazine to know what had inspired this kamikaze outburst, but I did anyway. Miss Hyacinth Anasta-sia Wallace was in Harpers Bazaar , clicked at some fashion designers thirtieth birthday party, wearing what appeared to be a red leather Band-Aid.

Wild-child turned writer/actress Cinthia Wallace flaunts her less cerebral assets in Gucci. Filming is about to begin on the celluloid adaptation of her soon-to-be-released novel, Bubblegum Bimbos . Both the book and the movie are inspired by the six months the Princess of the Park Avenue Posse went undercover at a New Jersey high school.

AAAIIIEEE! Bridget shrieked again. I am, like, so sick of seeing that fat, ugly moonface!

With the release of Bubblegum Bimbos just days away, Hy had been popping up all over newspapers and magazines in full-on promo mode. Bridgets sanity was tested with each additional photo and caption. Shes pre-ordered a copy of the book, so shell be nice and nutty on the fifteenth. Oh, joy. I myself refuse to read it and Ive warned Bridget not to say one word about it when she does.

I took the magazine out of her hand, rolled it up, and thwacked her over the head.

Ow! Why did you do that?

Im trying to knock some sense into you!

Her people called my people! she said, repeating the line Ive heard a bizillion times. She, like, totally wanted me! Not vice versa!

I told you not to audition, I said. I warned you.

But Bridget hadnt heeded my advice. Nope, she let it all go straight to that bubblegum, bimbocious, blond head of hers.

It all started last June, when Bridgets agent informed her that she had gotten a call from the agency that represented Cinthia Wallace. After seeing her work in the Hum-V video, Hy had specifically requested that Bridget Milhokovich audition for a very specific role: Gidget Popovich.

Isnt that, like, so cool of her?

Bridget Milhokovich. Gidget Popovich. I had paused, hoping it would be easier to get through to her. It wasnt. Doesnt this sound the least bit weird to you?

What?

Shes asking you to audition for the role of you!

Shes not me.

The scary thing about Bridgets inability to lie is that it means that she actually believes every idiotic word that comes out of her mouth.

Describe her, then.

Bridget instinctively picked her ponytail off her shoulder and started chewing on it, a sure sign of guilt.

Okay. Like, Gidget is really beautiful on the outside but super-insecure on the inside.

And?

And, like, her parents are divorced.

And?

And She continued gnawing. Like, shes got this boyfriend who cheats on her.

Oh no, Bridget. Gidget doesnt sound like you at all.

She spit out the ponytail. Okay, she admitted. She is kinda, like, inspired by me.

Inspired? She is you! Dont you think thats messed up?

Why should I? Like, Hy is playing the role of debutante-turned-reporter Rose Karenna Williams.

Thats when I started to lose it. Hyacinth Anastasia Wallace is portraying Rose Karenna Williams?

Bridget continued, unfazed. My agent said its, like, the next step of this whole reality-entertainment trend. Its all about getting the real-life people who, like, inspired the characters to play the characters in the movie.

I let this comment dangle in the air for a moment before cutting it loose.

If thats true, why hasnt anyone called Sara to play the role of Tara, the, uh, gossipmongering rich girl with severe body-image issues? Why havent they called Manda for the role of, uh, Panda, a big-boobed feminist who thinks promiscuity is the best way to battle the patriarchy?

Actually, the characters are named Kara and Randa, corrected Bridget, totally missing the point as usual.

Why havent they called me to play the role of my alter ego?

Bridget looked away.

Whats her name, by the way?

Whose name?

My alter egos name. There is a character inspired by me, right?

By then, Bridget must have trimmed an inch off her ponytail, so thorough was her chewing.

Bridget! Im going to find out eventually, I said. You might as well tell me now.

Bridget sighed. There is a character named She paused. Jenn Sweet.

Jess Darling equals Jenn Sweet. My God. That was all I needed to hear. There was no escaping it: Hy had turned my life into a bad low-budget indie flick. Though Im sure her crafty lawyers advised her to disguise me enough that a defamation of character suit would never hold up in court. (Kind of like the person behind Pinevile Low.) Still, anyone who knows me will know. Ill know, and thats one person too many. This is why I refuse to read it. No way will I contribute to her royalties.

Maybe Hy had originally intended to get metafictional, then changed her mind after seeing Bridgets lackluster audition. Or perhaps Hy planned all along to humiliate Bridget by telling her she wasnt talented enough to play herself. All I do know is that as bad is it will be in four days when the book hits stores, the movie is going to be even worse. I dont look forward to the day that Bridget innocently heads to the multiplex to see the new Julia Roberts romantic comedy and is driven to public suicide when the trailer for BGB seizes the screen.

There was no need to encourage Bridgets Hysteria today. I tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, the only place my mind has been since the Anti-Homecoming. Just as Bridgets insanity has intensified with every day it got closer to BGB arriving in bookstores, my own mental stability gets shakier as the deadline for Columbia draws near. January first is not that far away. Ive got to make up my mind.

So Taryn actually talked to me yesterday, I said.

Really? I thought she was, like, a mute or something.

She usually is, but she went out of her way to tell me that Paul was very disappointed that I decided not to apply to Columbia.

Why are you, like, bringing this up ?

I dont know

She looked at me seriously. Its like youre looking for, like, permission or approval or something.

My argument got stuck on the tip of my tongue. She was right. I have been looking to other people to tell me that I should apply and accept admission. Ive been looking for as many people as possible to assure me that if I decide to attend a school in New York City, I wont die, because at this point in history, anyones opinion is as valid as anyone elses. Since 9/11, no one knows anything about anything . All bets are off. Pundits can talk and talk and talk, using this piece of data and that bit of evidence to assure the American public that this is all going to play out in our favor. But when it comes down to it, theyve got about as much credibility as Miss Cleo.

I wasand still amcompletely unprepared for true tragedy. I dont think any of us can be ready for it, and those who say otherwise are lying. I didnt know what to say on that infamous day because I couldnt wrap my head around the enormity of it all. I knew life would never be the same again, but I didnt know how. So I did what I always do when I cant handle something: I made it manageable by being petty and small. Im not proud of how superficial I sounded in the days after 9/11, but I wont destroy the evidence. Ill hold on to it because it was real. Flawed and fucked up, but real.

Kind of like this journal as a whole.

Anyway, now that things are eerily back to normal, I have even less of an idea of what the future will be like, which is why I have no idea what to do about Columbia.

Well, like, Percy and I both think you should go for it, Bridget continued. Whats the harm in applying? If you get in, you, like, dont have to go.

See, thats where shes wrong. If I get in, Ill have to go. If only to fulfill my fate. But if I dont apply, I dont have to worry about getting in, going, and dying. She and Pepe just couldnt convince me to apply, but I thanked her for her opinion, anyway.

Later, when I brought it up to Len before Health and Human Sexuality, he told me I should definitely apply to Columbia because its ahead of Amherst, Piedmont, Swarthrnore, and Williams in the latest U.S. News and World Report rankings, plus its Ivy League cred will go very far with recruiters in whichever field I wish to pursue after I graduate.

That wasnt enough, either, which is why I am not a good girlfriend.

When Len was talking, Marcus shifted in his seat, as if he was about to say something to me. I really wanted to hear what he had to say. Another reason Im not a good girlfriend.

Marcus, I boldly ventured. Do you have something to contribute to this conversation?

This was a big deal. It was the first time either one of us had gone out of our way to get the others attention since Len and I started going out. Wed even stopped our daily parody of a conversation.

Marcus turned halfway around.

I dont, he said.

Oh, I said, more defeated than I had wanted to sound.

But, he surprised me by continuing, Gladdie might. You should talk to her about this. She gives good advice.

Ill take that under advisement, I replied flatly.

You know, you really should visit her more, he said, fully rotating so I could look him in the face.

How do you know? I could be there every day youre not, I replied. Linda, at my request, had provided me with his work schedule so I would know when it would be safe to visit.

Because I know youre not.

Hed called my bluff. Id only visited Gladdie once since Thanksgiving.

Gladdie tells me, he said. She tells me lots of things.

Before he could elaborate, Brandi held up this thing that looked like a sandwich Baggie.

What is this? she called out. No one answered, but that didnt stop her. Right! A bit of Reality! Reality female condom, that is!

While Brandi sang the praises of alternative forms of contraception, I tried to imagine what Gladdie and Marcus talk about. Clearly, Marcuss persuasive appeal spans the generations and Gladdie cant stop herself from telling Marcus things the way that I cant stop myself from telling Marcus things. Or used to, that is. Before I knew better. But Gladdie? Shes defenseless. I can only hope that Marcus doesnt take the senile ramblings of a ninety-year-old stroke victim too seriously. And vice versa.

the fifteenth

To steal Hys gossipy thunder

What buxom cheerleaders affections have turned away from her baller boyfriend, and toward a recently reformed guitar god?

MANDA!!! And Marcus!!!

Are you gonna drop me for that fucking Dreg? yelled Scotty before Health and Human Sexuality.

Scotty! Stop being such an alpha male! I will not tolerate this mental or physical abuse!

Are you !

Puh-leeze.

ARE YOU ? he said, grabbing her arm.

Well, if I did drop you, it would be for someone with more feminine sensitivity! Then she bit his hand until he let go, and ran to the classroom.

I guess listening to Brandi talk about fallopian tubes and foreskin for forty minutes made Scotty and Manda sufficiently hot and bothered for a reconciliation. As soon as class ended, they dry-humped and made up. They spent the rest of the day walking hand-in-bandaged-hand.

Still, Im certainly not convinced that Manda is uninterested in Marcus. I couldnt help but ask Marcus what he thought of the item.

I didnt get the e-mail, Marcus said. I guess Im not part of the inner circle.

Um. What e-mail? Len had overheard me.

Len hadnt gotten Pinevile Low this time either, and it hadnt even crossed my mind to tell him about it. Im such a sucky girlfriend.