The Boy Next Door

by Meg Cabot

Subject: S.O.S.

  LENORE!

  IT’S ME AGAIN. VIVICA.

  THANKS FOR THE WALLET. I GOT IT. I DECIDED NOT TO LEAVE RIGHT AWAY. I WANTED TO GIVE MAX ANOTHER CHANCE, YOU KNOW. I THOUGHT MAYBE HE WOULD APOLOGIZE. BECAUSE I KNOW HE IS REALLY VERY DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH ME.

  BUT HE TOTALLY DIDN’T! APOLOGIZE, I MEAN. IN FACT, IF ANYTHING, NOW HE HAS GOTTEN MEANER. YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE SAID LAST NIGHT. HE SAID HE DOES NOT WANT TO MARRY ME, AND THAT HE NEVER DID. HE SAYS HE DOES NOT WANT TO HAVE BABIES WITH ME, OR EVEN SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH ME!!!

  LENORE, WHAT SHOULD I DO? I JUST KEEP CRYING AND CRYING. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WOULD DO THIS TO ME. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WOULD SPEND THREE MONTHS WITH ME IN KEY WEST, AND THEN TURN AROUND AND SAY HE DOESN’T WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME. I HAVE NEVER FELT SO USED.

  LENORE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP ME. I KNOW YOU HAVE HAD LOTS OF EXPERIENCE WITH MEN. AFTER ALL, YOU ARE SO OLD—ALMOST 30. YOU MUST KNOW OF SOME WAY I CAN GET HIM TO LOVE ME.

  PLEASE HELP.

  VIVICA

  To: Nadine Wilcock

  From: Mel Fuller

  Subject: I don’t know about you,

  but I had a fabulous time last night. Didn’t you have fun? I mean, everything was so perfect: the squid ink pasta was delicious, and the boys seemed to get along so well—didn’t you think they got along? Not that I know anything about college basketball, but that discussion they had about it seemed pretty lively.

  Don’t you see how wrong you were about him now? About John, I mean. I haven’t exactly brought up the iced nipple thing with him, but don’t you think that’s just what readers of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition expect? I mean, it seems like that’s just part of his job.

  All I’m saying is, we should definitely do it again, and soon. But not this weekend, because this is the weekend we’re spending at that ski cabin John’s friend is lending him.

  And, I don’t want to jinx anything, but last night I offered to feed Tweedledum and Mr. Peepers while John was walking Paco, and I just happened to spot a Tiffany’s bag peeking out from John’s overnight bag. You know, the one he’s taking for the weekend.

  That’s right. A Tiffany’s bag.

  I know. I know. I am not getting excited. It could be anything. It could be the bag he carries his socks in when he travels. Who knows?

  But what if it’s…you know?

  It could be. It really could be.

  That’s all I’m going to say.

  Mel

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Nadine Wilcock

  Subject: Are you serious?

  You seriously think he’s going to propose? Melissa, the two of you have only been going out for a couple of months. Less, even. I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but I really don’t think you should get your hopes up. I bet anything if you’d looked in that bag you’d have seen socks. Men are weird that way.

  Nad

  To: Nadine Wilcock

  From: Mel Fuller

  Subject: I should have looked, shouldn’t I?

  I just couldn’t. It just seemed so…wrong. To look, I mean.

  Not that I think that’s what’s in the bag. A ring, I mean. I totally don’t. I’m sure it’s just socks.

  But what if it isn’t?

  That’s all I’m saying. A girl can dream, can’t she?

  Mel

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Nadine Wilcock

  Subject: So I take it that if it is a ring,

  you intend to say yes? Is that it?

  Not that I think you shouldn’t. Only…

  Only there’s nothing wrong with waiting. Really. I mean, you should at least, out of common decency, wait until his aunt is out of her coma, or dead. Whichever comes first.

  Don’t you think?

  Nad

  To: Nadine Wilcock

  From: Mel Fuller

  Subject: I guess

  you’re right. About waiting to see what happens with Mrs. Friedlander. That would be pretty cold, to go around announcing our engagement, when she’s still in a coma.

  God, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. There’s no ring in that bag. I’m sure it’s socks. It has to be socks.

  Right?

  Mel

  To: Tony Salerno

  From: Nadine Wilcock

  Subject: Mel

  Well, it’s all over. He’s proposing. This weekend, it looks like, in the romantic ski cabin he’s borrowing for the occasion.

  I’m not saying I disapprove. I mean, I like the guy. I really do. It’s just that…I don’t know. I can’t shake this bad feeling I have about all this. What’s wrong with me?

  Nad

  To: Nadine Wilcock

  From: Tony Salerno

  Subject: What’s wrong with you

  Nothing’s wrong with you. You just want your friend to be happy.

  And I don’t blame you. I want Mel to be happy, too. She deserves to be happy, and not just because Freddie Prinze Jr. is going out with Sarah Michelle Gellar, or whatever else it is she writes about.

  But in order for people to be happy, sometimes they have to take risks. It’s true those risks can put them in danger of being hurt. I think that’s what’s freaking you out about Mel. She just met this guy. He’s got an iffy rep in the ’hood. Hooking up with him is a major risk.

  But I think to her it’s worth it. So you just have to stand back and let her make her own decisions and stop being such a freaking psycho about it. I mean, who do you think is good enough for her, anyway? Me? Well, I happen to be taken.

  And you know what happened when we tried fixing Mel up with my brother Sal….

  Hey, if the two of them do work it out and decide to get hitched, we could have a double wedding. What do you think about that?

  Just kidding.

  Tony

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: jerrylives@freemail.com

  Subject: Vermont

  Okay, so have you got your long underwear? I hear it can get cold at night up there.

  I’m going to pick up the car at seven, so we can be on the road by eight. Think you can be up and around by then? I know it will be a challenge to you. Fortunately, I, unlike some people, will never hold your perpetual tardiness against you.

  I’m renting a full-size vehicle in the hopes that Paco will fit into the backseat. What do you think the chances are that he won’t insist on sticking his head out the window and drooling on anyone we pass? And do you think they ticket for that kind of thing? Flinging dog drool on innocent passersby?

  John

  To: jerrylives@freemail.com

  From: Mel Fuller

  Subject: Vermont

  I can be ready by eight. What do you think I am, some kind of sloth?

  I think Paco will be fine in the backseat. It’s Tweedledum and Mr. Peepers I’m worried about. I know Ralph said he’d feed them, but I highly doubt he’ll stay to pet them or anything. I mean, he’s totally afraid of getting animal hair on his doorman uniform. Maybe we should offer to have it dry-cleaned for him when we get back.

  You’re kidding about the long underwear, right?

  Mel

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Dolly Vargas

  Subject: Vermont

  Darling, I hear you’re going up north with him for the weekend. That is just so St. Elmo’s Fire. Are you going to wear Love’s Baby Soft and a big turtleneck sweater?

  Seriously, I just wanted to give you a few e
ensy-weensy tips before you go, because you’re such a little innocent about these kinds of things.

  1. DO NOT allow him to put your name down on the rental agreement. Then you will have no choice but to drive should he ask you to. And nothing looks tackier than a woman driving with a man in the passenger seat. Membership in the feminist movement = lifelong spinsterhood.

  2. DO NOT offer to go out to get a log for the fire from the woodpile. I have found that spiders often live in woodpiles. Let him do the wood gathering, for God’s sake.

  3. DO offer to cook breakfast, and make it a hearty one, preferably with sausages. For some reason, men seem to love to ingest foods soaked in saturated fats when they are in the woods. He will show his appreciation for you in all the right ways.

  4. DO bring your own CDs. If you don’t, you’ll be listening to the Grateful Dead and War all weekend long—not to mention, I shudder to write it, Blood, Sweat, and Tears.

  5. DO bring earplugs. Men who ordinarily don’t snore are prone to do so in the woods, due to various allergens that don’t exist in the city.

  6. DO NOT let him shower first. Cabins have notoriously little hot water, and he will use it all up, leaving you none. Insist on being the first to bathe.

  7. DO NOT forget to bring edible body oils with you. They simply do not sell such things in these backwater towns, so if you forget them, it’s all over.

  I hope this helps, sweetie. And don’t forget: Have fun!

  XXXOOO

  Dolly

  To: Nadine Wilcock ; Tim Grabowski

  From: Mel Fuller

  Subject: All right…

  Who told Dolly I was going away with John? You guys have GOT to stop. I cannot stand this anymore. STOP TELLING DOLLY THINGS ABOUT JOHN AND ME.

  It is seriously not funny. I do not need her knowing my business. At least, not the stuff I haven’t told her myself.

  Mel

  To: Jason Trent

  From: John Trent

  Subject: Well, this is it

  We’re leaving in the morning. And I’m going to do it. I swear I’m going to do it. I called Chuck up at the lodge and had him go over to the cabin and make sure the hot tub was good and ready, stick a few bottles of champagne in the fridge, and start defrosting some of those venison steaks.

  I think I’m ready.

  Wish me luck.

  John

  To: John Trent

  From: Jason Trent

  Subject: You really are

  a moron, you know that, don’t you? How you could have let yourself get into this situation in the first place—or let it go on for so long—I do not know.

  But I will wish you luck, because, buddy, you are going to need it.

  Jason

  To: Lenore Fleming

  From: Max Friedlander

  Subject: S.O.S

  LENORE!!!

  IT’S OVER. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE IT. I CAN BARELY TYPE ON ACCOUNT OF CRYING SO HARD.

  TODAY I CAME HOME FROM THE POOL, AND WHAT DO YOU THINK I FOUND?

  HE WAS WITH ANOTHER WOMAN, LENORE! IN OUR BED. WITH THE MAID!!! THE MAID!!!

  SHE’S NOT EVEN THAT PRETTY!! SHE USES LIQUID EYE-LINER, AND HAD ON LAST SEASON’S MANOLO BLAHNIK MULES. NOT EVEN REAL ONES, EITHER. CHEAP KNOCK-OFFS!!!

  WELL, THAT IS IT. IT IS SO OVER. YOU HAVE TO GET ME ON THE NEXT FLIGHT BACK TO NEW YORK.

  I KNOW. I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO SAY: I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING TO GET BACK AT HIM OR I WILL NEVER HAVE CLOSURE.

  BUT WHAT CAN I DO? I CAN’T SEND HIM A BUNCH OF DEAD ROSES, LIKE GUYS ARE ALWAYS SENDING TO ME WHEN I DUMP THEM. THAT’S, YOU KNOW, A GUY THING. I THOUGHT ABOUT SENDING HIM A METAL JOCKSTRAP, LIKE NAOMI SENT BOBBY. BUT THEY DON’T EVEN SELL METAL JOCKSTRAPS HERE.

  I HAVE TO GET BACK AT HIM SOMEHOW, I KNOW. I HAVE TO HIT HIM WHERE IT HURTS THE MOST.

  OH. WAIT A MINUTE. I HAVE AN IDEA.

  WISH ME LUCK.

  VIVICA

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Max Friedlander

  Subject: HELLO

  YOU DON’T KNOW ME, BUT MY NAME IS VIVICA, AND I THINK YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THAT GUY WHO HAS BEEN WALKING MAX’S AUNT’S DOG ISN’T MAX AT ALL, BUT HIS FRIEND JOHN, WHO OWED MAX A FAVOR ON ACCOUNT OF MAX HELPING JOHN OUT OF A JAM BACK IN VEGAS WHEN HE ALMOST MARRIED A REDHEADED SHOWGIRL NAMED HEIDI. JOHN IS JUST PRETENDING TO BE MAX ON ACCOUNT OF MAX NOT BEING ABLE TO COME BACK TO NEW YORK TO WALK HIS AUNT’S DOG BECAUSE HE IS HERE IN KEY WEST WITH ME. BUT HE DIDN’T WANT HIS AUNT TO THINK HE DIDN’T CARE, SO HE HAD JOHN DO IT FOR HIM.

  AND I THINK IF MAX’S AUNT EVER WAKES UP, YOU SHOULD TELL HER WHAT MAX DID. SHE SHOULD DEFINITELY WRITE HIM OUT OF HER WILL BECAUSE HE DOESN’T DESERVE ANY OF HER MONEY.

  ALSO, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT MAX FRIEDLANDER IS A HORRIBLE PERSON AND ANYONE WHO IS FRIENDS WITH HIM PROBABLY IS, TOO.

  ALL MEN ARE PIGS AND I HOPE THEY DIE AND MONKEYS TAKE OVER LIKE ON PLANET OF THE APES BECAUSE THEN THINGS WOULD BE WAY BETTER.

  THAT’S ALL.

  VIVICA

  To: Mel Fuller ; Nadine Wilcock ; Dolly Vargas

  From: George Sanchez

  Subject: Would anyone care to tell me

  what all that screaming was about a little while ago? And why aren’t any of you at your desks? I swear to God, if you’re all in the ladies’ room again, I am going in there and dragging you out. I don’t care. YOU CAN’T ALL HAVE TO GO AT THE SAME TIME. This isn’t cheerleader camp. What do you think I am, stupid?

  Can’t any of you comprehend the fact that there is a time for gabbing and a time for working, and that when there’s a paper to put to bed, that means it’s time for WORKING???

  GET BACK TO YOUR DESKS AND STAY THERE! George

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Nadine Wilcock

  Subject: Mel, just call

  him. Just call and ask him. I’m sure it’s just some kind of sick joke from an ex-girlfriend or something. You can straighten it all out with one phone call.

  Just call him. There’s probably a very rational explanation for all of this.

  Nad

  To: Nadine Wilcock

  From: Mel Fuller

  Subject: No

  You don’t understand. I just went through the e-mails I’ve gotten over the past few months, because I thought the return address to this one looked familiar, but I knew it wasn’t John’s, because his is jerrylives@freemail.com. And look. Look what I found. His first letter ever to me. Check out the return address:

  >To: Mel Fuller

  >From: Max Friedlander

  >Subject: My aunt

  >

  >Dear Ms. Fuller,

  >

  >I am shocked. Deeply shocked and appalled to hear what has happened to my Aunt Helen. She is, as I’m sure you know, my only living relative. I cannot thank you enough for the efforts you’ve gone to in order to contact me and let me know about this tragedy.

  >

  >Although I am currently on assignment in Africa—perhaps you’ve heard of the drought here in Ethiopia? I am doing a photo shoot for the Save the Children fund—I will begin making preparations to return to New York at once. If my aunt should wake before I get there, please assure her that I am on my way.

  >

  >And thank you again, Ms. Fuller. Everything they say about cold and unfeeling New Yorkers is obviously untrue in your case. God bless you.

  >
>
  >Sincerely,

  >

  >Maxwell Friedlander

  It’s the same return address as that one I just got from this Vivica. And read it. It doesn’t even SOUND like John. John didn’t write this. Nadine, I think this Vivica person might be telling the truth!

  Oh, my God, what do I do? I can’t just call him. What am I going to say?

  Mel

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Nadine Wilcock

  Subject: What are you going to say?

  I can’t believe you are asking me this. You’re going to say, “Hey, buster, what the hell is going on here? If you think I’m going to Vermont with you after this, you’ve got another think coming, let me tell you. Now who the hell is Vivica?”

  God, Mel, you are not a wuss, so why are you acting like this? CALL HIM!!!

  Nad

  To: Mel Fuller

  From: Dolly Vargas

  Subject: Darling

  I know how upset you must be, and I just want to assure you that I am behind you 150 percent. Men can be such children, can’t they?

  And because I feel so deeply for you in your hour of need, I have done a little calling around, and finally managed to track down Max Friedlander’s agent.

  Sweetie, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Sebastian says Max has been in Key West the past few months with the supermodel Vivica!

  I of course said, “But Sebastian, darling, that’s impossible, Max has been here walking his aunt’s dog and courting my little friend Melissa,” to which Sebastian, who is just a sweetheart, replied, “Dolly, honey, this isn’t the nineties anymore, put down the crack pipe. I’m getting calls from Max three times a day demanding to know when I’m going to find him work since Vivica is draining him dry.”