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Authors: E. Lockhart
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feel sorry for me. Mailbox doesn’t feel sorry for me. Mailbox admires my ambulatory legs and opposable thumbs. Mailbox worships me and will lay down her life for me.”
“Roo.”
“Mailbox wants you to know that I’m so sorry I left you with the check.”
“Oh, shut up!” cried Meghan. “I put it on the credit card. You know my mom pays it for me every month.
She never even looks at the bill.”
“Seriously? I did not know that, actually.”
“Can we have this conversation in the car?
Please?”
I sniffed. “Where’s Noel?”
“Driving Hutch home.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
“He asked if you were okay.”
“What did you say?”
“I said obviously you were not okay and he should go after you.”
“And he said?”
“Will you get in the car, Roo?”
“Do you think he’s turned into a pod-robot like Jackson did?”
“No.”
“He seemed like a pod-robot. He didn’t even hug me.”
“Will you just get in the car already?”
“I love you, mailbox. You have been very, very good to me,” I said, patting it. “I will come back and visit you often, even if it means I have to hide from the staff of Snappy Dragon, who will probably pour soup on my head if I ever set foot near their restaurant again.”
“Get in!” barked Meghan. “You have ceased to be amusing.”
I got in.
The girl had my house keys.
Meghan pulled into traffic and said: “So Noel was all, ‘I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.’ ”
“What?”
“He sat down at the table and ate a fortune cookie and said he didn’t know what to do. Then even Hutch said he should go after you, and Noel put his head down on the table.”
“Why?”
“He said, ‘I can’t deal right now.’ ” Meghan shrugged. “So I got the check.”
Ag.
“I don’t know what his problem is,” Meghan went on.
“He needs to go to boyfriend school.”
I sniffed again. “Maybe. But I can’t expect him to go running after me when he just got into town and I’m crying like an infant and my parents hate me and I made a scene in the restaurant.”
“You can too. He’s supposed to go after you if you’re upset. Finn would never leave me crying on the street talking to a mailbox.”
No. None of Meghan’s boyfriends would ever have done that.
“You have bad luck with guys, Roo,” Meghan went on. “It’s like, you pick ones who have zero talent at being boyfriends.”
“Jackson was a good boyfriend.”
“Jackson? Please.”
“He was a good boyfriend to Kim, at least,” I said,
“if not to me. He was capable of being a good boyfriend.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Meghan sarcastically. “He cheated on her and then dumped her at school. Roo, hello?”
“Whatever. The problem is obviously me. Guys don’t want mental-patient girlfriends. Except in the movies.”2
Meghan pulled the Jeep into her driveway. “Noel should have gone after you. Even if he wants to break up, he should still have gone after you.”
“Maybe,” I said, looking at beautiful Meghan in the setting sunlight.
Her reddish brown curls hung across her shoulders.
She wore a pair of Finn’s old jeans and a Tate Prep tank top. Even though I knew most of the girls at school hated her, even though I knew she had lost her dad and saw a shrink, even though she couldn’t really be as oblivious to pain and weirdness in her heart as she seemed on a day-to-day basis—sometimes I wished I were Meghan instead of me.
Because she never seemed to second-guess her thoughts.
Me, I second-guess everything.
1 This is precisely the kind of behavior that makes girls generally hate Meghan. Like: Why does she need to be rubbing her sexy body up against my boyfriend’s torso?
Why?
But I have learned to ignore this aspect of her because she is so freaking nice to me—and in this case, I was grateful. There I was, red-faced with embarrassment, anger and tears, and she was able to act like nothing tragic had happened .
2 Movies where a
“Roo.”
“Mailbox wants you to know that I’m so sorry I left you with the check.”
“Oh, shut up!” cried Meghan. “I put it on the credit card. You know my mom pays it for me every month.
She never even looks at the bill.”
“Seriously? I did not know that, actually.”
“Can we have this conversation in the car?
Please?”
I sniffed. “Where’s Noel?”
“Driving Hutch home.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
“He asked if you were okay.”
“What did you say?”
“I said obviously you were not okay and he should go after you.”
“And he said?”
“Will you get in the car, Roo?”
“Do you think he’s turned into a pod-robot like Jackson did?”
“No.”
“He seemed like a pod-robot. He didn’t even hug me.”
“Will you just get in the car already?”
“I love you, mailbox. You have been very, very good to me,” I said, patting it. “I will come back and visit you often, even if it means I have to hide from the staff of Snappy Dragon, who will probably pour soup on my head if I ever set foot near their restaurant again.”
“Get in!” barked Meghan. “You have ceased to be amusing.”
I got in.
The girl had my house keys.
Meghan pulled into traffic and said: “So Noel was all, ‘I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.’ ”
“What?”
“He sat down at the table and ate a fortune cookie and said he didn’t know what to do. Then even Hutch said he should go after you, and Noel put his head down on the table.”
“Why?”
“He said, ‘I can’t deal right now.’ ” Meghan shrugged. “So I got the check.”
Ag.
“I don’t know what his problem is,” Meghan went on.
“He needs to go to boyfriend school.”
I sniffed again. “Maybe. But I can’t expect him to go running after me when he just got into town and I’m crying like an infant and my parents hate me and I made a scene in the restaurant.”
“You can too. He’s supposed to go after you if you’re upset. Finn would never leave me crying on the street talking to a mailbox.”
No. None of Meghan’s boyfriends would ever have done that.
“You have bad luck with guys, Roo,” Meghan went on. “It’s like, you pick ones who have zero talent at being boyfriends.”
“Jackson was a good boyfriend.”
“Jackson? Please.”
“He was a good boyfriend to Kim, at least,” I said,
“if not to me. He was capable of being a good boyfriend.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Meghan sarcastically. “He cheated on her and then dumped her at school. Roo, hello?”
“Whatever. The problem is obviously me. Guys don’t want mental-patient girlfriends. Except in the movies.”2
Meghan pulled the Jeep into her driveway. “Noel should have gone after you. Even if he wants to break up, he should still have gone after you.”
“Maybe,” I said, looking at beautiful Meghan in the setting sunlight.
Her reddish brown curls hung across her shoulders.
She wore a pair of Finn’s old jeans and a Tate Prep tank top. Even though I knew most of the girls at school hated her, even though I knew she had lost her dad and saw a shrink, even though she couldn’t really be as oblivious to pain and weirdness in her heart as she seemed on a day-to-day basis—sometimes I wished I were Meghan instead of me.
Because she never seemed to second-guess her thoughts.
Me, I second-guess everything.
1 This is precisely the kind of behavior that makes girls generally hate Meghan. Like: Why does she need to be rubbing her sexy body up against my boyfriend’s torso?
Why?
But I have learned to ignore this aspect of her because she is so freaking nice to me—and in this case, I was grateful. There I was, red-faced with embarrassment, anger and tears, and she was able to act like nothing tragic had happened .
2 Movies where a
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