Second Helpings (24 page)

Pinevile Low.

What did it say?

Well, among other things, that Manda wants Marcus.

Manda wants you!

Lens voice crackled with fear. Of what? Manda ripping the band apart, just as things were getting good? Was Manda another Yoko?

Marcus shrugged.

Why would she. Um. Want you?

It happens, he replied lazily.

But she hated you.

It happens, he said again, only this time through a yawn.

Sure, it happens all the time, doesnt it? Girls hate you, then want you. No big deal. Yawn. Youve grown so weary of girls hating you, then wanting you, then maybe hating you again. Youre so tired of girls and their hating, wanting, hating that all you want to do is fall right into bed. And if Manda, or any one of the other girls who want you, just happen to be waiting, spread-eagled, under the sheets, well, its easier to fuck than it is to light, right? Get her in and out of your bed. Yawn. To make room for the next girl who wants you.

Christ. This journal is dangerously close to becoming barbecue fuel.

Quick change of subject: I was kind of surprised that my hook-up with Len didnt make it into the newsletter. But then I realized that the coupling of the Class Brainiacs isnt exactly whoop-de-doo news.

Whoever is doing this knows a lot about technology. I know this because I asked my dad about it, since hes about as wonky as they come. My curiosity was only half responsible for the attempt at communication. My mother had gotten on my case about us not talking, worried that this silly cross-country thing was going to cause irreparable damage to a father/daughter relationship that was already on shaky ground. Thus coerced:

Hey, Dad?

Grunt.

I have a technical question for you.

Grumble.

About computers.

What is it? he said, his voice bitter and his blue eyes dimmerever since that tragic day his daughter destroyed his track-and-field dreams.

I explained how Pinevile Low was sent anonymously from a public computer and the administration couldnt trace it back to the author blahdiddyblahblahblah.

My dad perked up a little bit, and used terms like compromised routes and free proxy and erased logs until my eyes glazed over.

Then I said thank you and walked out of the room not really understanding the situation any better than before I had asked. If from nothing other than the length of my dads explanation, I did glean that its fairly sophisticated stuff. Whoever is doing this has done his or her homework. Its probably the same person we have to thank for our messed-up schedules back in September, which resulted in an additional two weeks being tacked onto our school year in June.

Who could it be? Ive already ruled out the two people at PHS who are smart enough to pull this off. Len has the brains but would never jeopardize his acceptance to Cornell. And Marcus loves mischief, but hes about as anti-techie as I am. Quite frankly, Pinevile Low just isnt his style.

All I know is this: If Manda and Marcus get together, it proves that there is no rhyme, reason, or meaning in life.

Im exhausted, too. Between the possibility of Manda banging Marcus, the application crisis, Bubblegum Bimbos , and all the effort I have to put into being a good girlfriend, Im done.

he eighteenth

I wasnt going to read it. I wasnt going to give in. This lasted three days.

On day one, Bridget tried to respect my wishes by not saying anything much about it.

Jess, its not, like, that bad.

Stop! I dont want to hear anything about it!

Okay, she replied. But you have nothing to get upset about. Its actually kind of flattering.

Not another word!

Okay.

I knew this was a moot gesture, since no such command would shut Saras yap. Even she shocked me by saying how the characters in Bubble-gum Bimbos werent like real-life people at all.

Omigod! Quote Kara unquote is supposed to be fat. I am not fat! And my family has been loaded for more than three decades, so we are not quote white trash with new cheddar unquote .

Okay, I said, her arguments not entirely convincing me that Kara and Sara were unalike.

Quote Randa unquote cant get any guys to fall in love with her, which is the exact opposite of Manda.

Okay. This was closer to being inaccurate, but was, in essence, still pretty true. Manda doesnt get guys to fall in love. She gets them to fall in lust.

And quote Gidget unquote is really pretty, like Bridget, but shes a pathetic loser. Omigod! Everyone knows Bridget is the most sought-after piece of ass in school!

Knowing Bridget like I do, that sounded exactly like her. Bridget is the most sought-after piece of ass in school, but that hasnt done much to help her feel any less lonely.

But quote Jenn Sweet unquote is totally not you. She rocked her SATs, like you, but thats about it.

Oh. Okay, I replied.

So Sara said, dangling the hot-pink-covered book in front of my face. Dont you want to read it?

No, I replied, averting my eyes.

Okay, she said. Your loss.

On day two, I couldnt get those hot pink swirls out of my eyes. I asked for more info.

Whats Jenn Sweet like?

Omigod! Shes smart, but that doesnt stop her from partying and being the coolest girl in school. Quote Rose-slash-Hy unquote even kind of worships Jenn.

Really?

Yes! So shes NOT LIKE YOU AT ALL, Sara said, with pleasure. No offense.

Oh, none taken.

How could I take offense? She was right. Jenn Sweet didnt sound anything like me.

By day three, the neon blurs bouncing on my retinas had gotten too distracting. So I asked to borrow Saras copy.

Omigod! I knew you would give in and read it!

She handed it over. I glanced at the jacket copy:

Rose Karenna Williams was the undisputed don of the Madison Avenue Mob, the trendy trustafarians who tore through Manhattan nightlife the way that only pretty, unsupervised girls of privilege can. Rose is a Page Six favorite at thirteen. Illegal consort to underwear models at fourteen. Rehabbed at fifteen. Burned out by the whole scene at sixteen. The daughter of a billionaire banker father and a celebrated artist mother, she longs for the normal life she never had. She bravely goes undercover in the strip-mall wastelands of New Jersey to find out whether these simpleminded Bubblegum Bimbos and Assembly-Line Meatballers have it better than she does

That kind of says it all plotwise.

Surreal is the only word I can use to describe the sensation of reading her fictionalized take on my world. I must have put the book down a bizillion times, not in anger, but in squirmy discomfort. How does one draw a line between fact and fictionalized? Even when Hy, the author, did make things up completely, her imagination seemed more true to life than the reality.

Despite the throw-down interruptions, I read BGB in three hours. I wouldve read it in half that time if I hadnt stumbled over Hys pseudo-ghetto patois. Wheres my Russell Simmons Def-Jam Dictionary when I need it?

I learned a lot about denial by reading this book. Hys descriptions of Bridget/Gidget, Manda/Randa, and Sara/Kara could not have been more accurate. But they didnt recognize the truth when they read it.

Why? Because she exposed aspects of their personalities that they try to keep even from themselves.

Sara/Kara: Fatty chickenhead who catches the vapors and cant stop cluck cluck cluckin. (Bubblegum Bimbos , p. 22)

Translation: Overweight, ignorant gossipmonger who gets caught up in everyone elses business and cant stop babbling about unimportant nonissues.

Manda/Randa: Siamese boo-boo head who will push up on your man before you can say punany. (BGB, p. 43)

Translation: Two-faced whore who will try to have sex with your boyfriend before you can say vagina.

Bridget/Gidget: Wack for thinking her golden grill is why she gets jerked. (BGB , p. 18)

Translation: Crazy for thinking her beauty is the source of all her problems.

So you think Hy wouldve gone off on me, right? My neuroses could provide enough material for a trilogy, at least. Maybe even a Harry Potter-style octet.

But Hy didnt exploit my angsty annoyingness. No. She did something far worse than presenting the real me, flaws and all.

Take this passage, for example: jenns got mad wisdom and steelo. her beans bouncin, so she never lets triflin shorty bullshit get her off the hizzy. shes pimped the system and her name to become the sweetest female in school. but shes the only girl whos too flex to care. (bubble-gum bimbos, p. 89)

Translation: jenns really smart and stylish, shes so brainy that she never gets unnerved by trivial high-school nonsense. shes used the system to her advantage by exploiting her name and has become the most envied girl in school. but shes too cool to care.

No wonder no one would mistake Jenn Sweet for me. Jenn Sweet is the Jessica Darling I want to be. The me I could be if I only had the

cojones . Maybe from now on, when faced with a dilemma, I should ask myself WWJD? What Would Jenn Do?

the twenty-third

Hys book has made me even more introspective than usual, if thats even possible.

Other significant descriptions of Jenn Sweet, the girl Id like to be:

goes balls-out in everything she does. (BGB , p. 57)

her eye is on success, the platinum ring, the only bling she needs. (BGB, p. 93)

wont let anyone jerk her. (BGB, p. 198)

The realization that I am not any of these thingssuperconfident, clearly focused on my goals, or unaffected by the actions of otherscoupled with the fact that the Columbia application clock is quickly winding down has made me more freaked out than ever about my future.

In search of an answer, I dug through all my stuff from SPECIAL to find that unopened envelope from Mac, my Columbia-only letter of recommendation. And this is what it said:

To Whom It May Concern:

As Jessica Darlings writing instructor at the Summer Pre-College Enrichment Curriculum in Artistic Learning, I read her work with pleasure, exhilaration, and even envy. Her journals vibrated with the verve, energy, and life that can only be found in the young. Having her in class made me long to go back to that time myself, when I was emboldened by the unawareness of my own naivete.

Jessica is one of the most gifted young women I have ever met. As Im sure you are aware, there are many gifted high-school students vying for admission to Columbia University. I imagine few who would so greatly benefit from the education your university can provide, both in and out of the classroom. Jessicas shining intelligence is in danger of being dimmed by lackluster life experience. Having read her most intimate writings, I can vouch that even her deepest observationsthough funny, vivid, telling, and trueare appallingly shallow.

Jessica is obsessed with the petty banalities that are the hallmark of high-school life, simply because she hasnt been exposed to anything else. She needs an eye-popping, high-voltage shock to her system, which she would no doubt get if she could plug into the eclectic electricity of Columbia and New York City. This intellectual and emotional jolt is the life force she needs to make her mark on the world. Without it, Im afraid shell never get beyond suburbia.

As Confucius says, Real knowledge is to know the extent of ones ignorance. The best thing that could happen to Jessica is for her to learn just how much she doesnt know. And the best place I can think of for such an education is at one of the greatest institutions located in the most indefinable city in the world.

Sincerely,

Samuel MacDougall

So I was right all along. Mac did think I was superficial. Ah, but with potential.

You might think Id be offended by this. Im not. Backhanded compliments are definitely the way to my heart. The fact that he was so honest about my intellectual shortcomings it makes his praise all the more believable. Hes right. I am superficial with potential. Is it me, or did Mac make it sound like going to Columbia could turn me into the person Im supposed to be? Aka Jenn Sweet? Does it make sense to find my life force in a place where Im likely to be murdered live on television? Or am I just being melodramatic? I mean, do the next four years of my life really merit so much deliberation? Will choosing the wrong school really have that much of an impact on the rest of my life? Especially when the odds are 1600 to 1 that I will choose the wrong school?

But what if Columbia is the right one? The 1 of 1600 to 1.

WWJD? What Would Jenn Do? I know damn well what she would do. Butas has been gleefully pointed out by anyone who has cracked the spine of Bubblegum Bimbos she is not me. I dont know who the hell I am. Im definitely not the Jessica Darling I used to be. I mean, who is Jessica Darling if she doesnt run on the track team and doesnt write for the school paper anymore? Werent those my defining traits? Who am I now without them?

Hope thinks Im putting too much pressure on myself, because Ill thrive academically wherever I go. Shes completely overlooking the social variables, but its not her fault. It doesnt matter whether she gets into Parsons or the Rhode Island School of Design (her top two choices) because she can find ways to be happy anywhere . Shes very much like Gladdie in that way.

With all this weighing on my brain, I consulted Len. You know, my boyfriend, the person Ive been sucking face with on a semi-regular basis, the person Im supposed to turn to in times of personal crisis.

I told him all about how I visited the Columbia campus last summer and just felt like I belonged there, for reasons I cant quite explain. How after 9/11 I got freaked out by the idea of going away to a primary terrorist target, and how my parents hate all cities, even before the WTC gave them a legitimate reason, and probably wouldnt let me go to Columbia even if I get in.

Yet despite all this, I said, wrapping up, Im thinking that going to any of the other schools Ive applied to would be a mistake.

Urn. Well. Of course it is. No, our boyfriend/girlfriend relationship has done little to relax his verbal skills. He coughed, then cleared his throat. Of course going to those other schools is a mistake, because Columbia outranks all of them on all of the most important lists Petersons, U.S. News and World Report , Princeton Review, to name a few. And going to an Ivy League school, like Columbia, or in my case, Cornell, will be an invaluable asset when its time to enter the job market, as recruiters are always impressed with

This is exactly what he said the first time I consulted him.

I dont know, Len, I said, interrupting him. Im kind of afraid of New York.

Marcus tapped me on the shoulder. I was expecting him to admonish me about Gladdie again, but he didnt.

Not going to New York wont protect you from harm, he said. You can die at any time.

Thats. Um. Morbid.

Not really, Marcus replied. The way I see it, if youre going to die, and you will eventually, you might as well die happy.

Is that would Gladdie would say? I asked. A valid question, considering her choose to be happy philosophy.

Probably, he said. Then he turned back around in his seat.

So there it is. The argument that convinced me to apply to Columbia. Yet another example of how Im not good at being a girlfriend.

the thirtieth

I DID IT! I APPLIED TO COLUMBIA! This application required a lot more effort than all the others com-bined, since I actually cared about it. Im so paranoid that I sent an on-line and snail-mail, postmarked, and insured hard-copy version, just in case.

Theres no going back. I did it. Now its just up to the admissions office to do their duty. Wont it be funnynot ha-ha funny but funny like a swift kick in the groinif after all this Columbia is my destiny talk, I DONT GET IN? Like, theyve already filled their quota of white, Anglo-Saxon, Catholic, Merit Scholar, wanna-be psychology majors from New Jersey who are superficial, ah, but with potential.

I e-mailed my homosexual Manhattan mentors to thank them for helping me see the light. Neither has responded, which kind of surprises me. Unless Maybe Paul Parlipiano and Mac already know something I dont! Maybe they have gaydar of an entirely different sort. The kind that intuits whether someone is Ivy material or not.

Oh, God. I am going to be in full-on freak-out mode until I get accepted. This sucks. Suckity, suck, sucks. Lets face it. I could have gotten a perfect score on my SATs and Id still be in a panic about getting accepted to Ocean County Community College if it were my number-one choice. When I really want something, I mean, really, really want something, I just cant believe that Ill ever actually get it. I think thats why I so rarely really, really want something. I try not to address my desires. If I deny, deny, deny, then I have no reason to be disappointed when I dont get it. Right.

I dont know how I got this way. I highly doubt Jenn Sweet would react like this.

In other un-Jenn-like behavior, I ended up not telling my parents about the application. It was probably Lens positive influence that had me even considering it. The other day, when I was taking a TV break from my application, I was given an indisputable sign from MTV to keep my mouth shut: Mom walked into the room while I was watching The Real World .

As you know, the show returned to none other than New York City for its tenth season. As Mom and I were watching, the Real World group was getting smacked at a bar called the West End, which just happens to be located at 114th and Broadway practically on Columbias campus . I

couldnt believe it. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for her response.

I cant believe their parents let them do that, she said.

Too vague. She couldve been referring to (a) living in New York, (b) appearing on the show, (c) underage drinking, or (d) all of the above.

Do what? I asked innocently.

Leave home to live in the most dangerous city on earth!

Whammo! Weve got a winner!

Mom, the show was taped way before 9/11.

Even still, she said. I wouldnt want any child of mine living there. Ever!

Could you get any more clear than that? I think not.

Knowing that Ive just done something that will take decades off my parents lives with worry, youll excuse me for not getting into the fa-la-la-la-la Yuletide spirit this year. There really isnt much to tell. The only difference between Christmas 2001 and Christmas 2000 is that I dont have a visit from Hope to look forward to. And Bethany has already packed on some major fetal flab. Oh, and now Gladdie doesnt need to ask a bizillion questions about my boyfriend, because shes already gotten the dirt from you know who.

Tutti Flutie says you and this Len character are getting serious!

He does, does he?

Tutti Flutie says that you two make him want to be with someone he loves.