Boy Meets Girl

by Meg Cabot

  My only complaint about Dale—as he seems to have told you—is about the commitment thing. I think if you’d been going out with someone as long as I ended up going out with Dale, and then had him turn around and say he had to take it one day at a time and wasn’t sure whether or not he could commit, you’d have moved out, too.

  But maybe that’s just me.

  And maybe things will be different for you and Dale. You sound like a very nice person—I saw you on the cover of this month’s Vogue, and you LOOK like a nice person, too. I sincerely hope things click with you and Dale.

  In the meantime, could you please tell him that if he’s planning on giving up the apartment early in order to leave for his tour, that I still expect my half of the security deposit back? I’m currently unemployed, as I think I mentioned, and could really use the money.

  Good luck,

  Kate

  * * *

  To: Kate Mackenzie

  Fr: Vivica

  Re: Dale

  Oh my God, thanks SO MUCH for your e-mail. You totally made my day. I’m SO glad Dale never tried to kill anyone (although what’s with the finger thing? Well, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready)!

  You sound like a really nice person, too. I’m sorry you have no job, boyfriend, or place to live. You may not believe this, but when I first came to New York, I was just like you. I mean, homeless and poor. Until I signed with my agency, and all.

  Hey, have you ever thought of being a model, like me? Dale showed me that picture of you two in front of the bagel shop, and you looked so cute! You’re too short to do runway work, of course, but you could totally do print work. Why don’t we get together for lunch sometime this week to talk about it? I found a new restaurant, and it is SO good. I don’t know how you feel about foreign food, though. It’s called the Olive Garden. It’s Italian . . . like Pizza Hut. Only no pizza.

  Anyway, let me know!!!! I would love to meet you!!!!!

  Love,

  Vivica

  * * *

  To: Sean

  Fr: Kate Mackenzie

  Re: You

  Thanks so much for your e-mail, but really, Sean, I didn’t do anything. You are the one who took the brave step of admitting your true feelings to your family and, more important, to yourself. While it’s unfortunate that certain members of your family weren’t thrilled by the news, at least you can be satisfied that you were as honest with them as you could be. I hope you’ll understand that their concern for you stems from their deep love, and maybe from a little bit of fear over something that might be foreign to them. It’s up to you to try to educate them, and let them know that the choices you’re making aren’t self-destructive at all, but choices based entirely on your love for them, yourself, and for Sarah.

  One thing Mitch mentioned that I almost forgot: Isn’t it true that your grandfather left each of his grandchildren two hundred thousand dollars, to be held in trust until they turn eighteen?

  Well, aren’t you nineteen?

  If your parents continue to refuse to pay for your schooling, couldn’t you use the money your grandfather left you to pay for it yourself?

  Just a thought.

  Hope to see you again soon.

  Kate

  * * *

  To: Jason Trent

  Fr: Stacy Trent

  Re: Janice

  Look, it would only be a couple of weeks. You know the kids love her. So what’s the big deal? I’ll ask her to wear headphones if she’s going to put on any Tori Amos. Don’t be so unreasonable. I put up with YOUR relatives all the time.

  Stacy

  P.S. We’re out of Honey Nut Cheerios.

  * * *

  To: Stacy Trent

  Fr: Jason Trent

  Re: Janice

  Excuse me, but none of MY relatives are likely to quote Ani Di Franco at the dinner table. All of MY relatives are in jail, where they belong.

  You’re asking too much, Stace. I mean, what are you going to do when Haley and Brittany want to start dyeing THEIR hair green, too?

  Jason

  P.S. We employ an au pair, a gardener, a housekeeper, a pool boy, and a cook. None of THEM can run out to the store to get Honey Nut Cheerios? I have to stop and get them on my way home? What do we pay THEM for?

  * * *

  To: Jason Trent

  Fr: Stacy Trent

  Re: Janice

  Excuse me, we entertain your brother and his wife and child nearly once a week. HE is not in jail.

  And if Haley or Brittany end up wanting to dye their hair green, we’ll tell them they can, when they are Janice’s age.

  Come on, Jason, this is important. Not just because I think Mom is going to pay somebody to kidnap Janice and have her sent to Utah for deprogramming, but because I think Mitch finally met a girl he really likes. He just needs some time alone with her to . . . you know.

  S

  P.S. God, it’s just a box of cereal, what is your problem?

  * * *

  To: Stacy Trent

  Fr: Jason Trent

  Re: Janice

  Oh, so now I’m supposed to let your sister live with us so your brother can get laid? I’ll tell you what, Janice can come to stay if you promise SHE’LL get the Cheerios. But she’s not driving the Range Rover!

  Jason

  * * *

  To: Katydid

  Fr: Jen Sadler

  Re: You

  Haven’t heard from you in a while. What are you doing? Has he called yet?

  The T.O.D. is on a full-scale rampage today. She’s already made the receptionists cry. She told them they couldn’t do the filing anymore for overtime, they have to file during office hours. They want to know how they are supposed to be in the file room AND answer the phones at the desk, and the T.O.D. just said, “Work it out,” and slammed her office door.

  If she doesn’t watch it, people are going to start burning her in effigy.

  Where are you, anyway? I called and got no answer.

  J

  * * *

  To: Jen Sadler

  Fr: Katydid

  Re: Me

  I just went out to grab the paper. You know. That whole job thing?

  Is Steph

  Oh, crap, the doorman’s buzzing, hold on.

  East Side Floral Company

  “Say it with Flowers”

  1125 York Avenue • New York New York, 10028.

  To: Kate Mackenzie care of Dolly Vargas. 610 East End Avenue, Penthouse A.

  Thanks for everything the other night. You were great with Janice. Can we try dinner again sometime? Soon?

  signed, Mitch

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Whadja get?

  Katydid: Are you crazy? Don’t IM me. You’re at work, you’re going to get fired, just like me.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Are you kidding? With you gone, Amy’s having to take on the L­Zs until we find a replacement. She’s got so many PAFs to get through, she can’t even find a spare moment to plan her reception. It’s killing her. I’ve never been more assured of my job security. Now spill. Whadja get????

  Katydid: Oh. Flowers.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: FROM HIM??????

  Katydid: Yes.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Describe.

  Katydid: Yellow roses this time. Two dozen.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Um, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.

  Katydid: Back off! You’re married.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Trade?

  Katydid: Um, no, thank you.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Bitch. So now what are you going to do?

  Katydid: I don’t know. Look f
or a job?

  Sleaterkinneyfan: I MEAN ABOUT THE BOY!!!!!!!!

  Katydid: Remember Professor Wingblade?

  Sleaterkinneyfan: How could I forget? You only quote him every five minutes.

  Katydid: Well, remember how he said before you can learn to love someone else, you have to learn to love yourself?

  Sleaterkinneyfan: No. I never went to his stupid class. You didn’t have to. All the test questions were multiple choice and were straight out of the back of the book.

  Katydid: Well, he used to say that. And the thing is . . . I think he’s right.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: God, eat some chocolate and get over it.

  Katydid: I’m serious! I know it’s wrong to define yourself by your job, but, Jen, I kind of did, and now, without it . . . I just don’t know why I’m even here. On this planet, I mean.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Oh my God. You SO need chocolate.

  Katydid: I’m serious. I don’t want to make another mistake about a guy. Not after what happened with Dale. I mean, I really thought the two of us were going to get married.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Okay, okay. I’m not saying you should move in with the guy. But you could call him, at least. And thank him for the flowers.

  Katydid: I guess.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: And ask him over. And take a bubble bath with him in Dolly’s Jacuzzi.

  Katydid: JEN!!!!!!!! I’m SERIOUS!!!!!!!!! Meet me at Lupe’s after work so we can talk about it?

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Uh. Can’t.

  Katydid: Why?

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Previous engagement. Sorry. Take a rain check?

  Katydid: Oh my God. You’ve found a new best friend. I’m out of the office for a few days, and you’ve gone and found a new best friend!

  Sleaterkinneyfan: Yeah, that’s it, all right. I’m going out with my new best friend. God, get a grip. Look, I have to go, my 4:30’s here. Talk to you later.

  Sleaterkinneyfan: logged off

  * * *

  To: Orin Wingblade

  Fr: Kate Mackenzie

  Re: Life

  Dear Professor Wingblade,

  You probably don’t remember me. My name is Kate Mackenzie. I was in your Soc 101 and 102 class several years ago.

  I just wanted you to know that I did graduate and went on to a career in social work. I wanted to “make a difference,” the way you urged us all to. I was employed by the city (of New York) social work department for a year before I realized that it wasn’t working out.

  Professor Wingblade, it pains me to say this, but I really don’t think that one person CAN make a difference. I’ve tried and tried. Back when I worked for Child Protective Services, I tried, and more recently, when I worked for the HR department of a major New York newspaper, I tried.

  But both times, Professor, it was as if I were beating my head against a brick wall. Little kids still went to bed hungry while their parents watched DVDs on their wide-screen TVs, and good people—people I really, really liked—got fired for no good reason. In addition, the people I worked for LIED about firing someone—and then I got fired.

  The reason I’m writing to you is . . . Professor Wingblade, what am I supposed to do now?

  I went out into the world and tried to make a difference, but nobody’s life is improved because of me, and my own life is, frankly, in shambles. I broke off a relationship because the man I was involved with made me feel like I wasn’t worth much to him.

  So now I have no boyfriend, no job, and no permanent place to live.

  I don’t want to burden my friends with my problems anymore—they have their own problems. My best friend wants a baby more than anything, so she’s on fertility drugs, and I don’t want to stay at her place—not while she and her husband are trying to make a new life.

  Meanwhile, you know, high-school girls are getting pregnant right and left, and don’t even WANT the responsibilities of parenting.

  I want kids someday, too, but I can’t seem to find a guy who will commit to tomorrow, let alone stay around long enough to fertilize an egg or see the egg become a baby and the baby become a college grad. I did meet a new guy, but—well, he’s somewhat responsible for getting me fired in the first place, and may be interested in me out of sympathy. We’re certainly attracted to each other sexually and he seems to really like me . . . only how can he, really, when I don’t even like myself?

  I should tell you that he’s a lawyer. I know you said all people have worth and dignity. But are you sure that includes lawyers?

  How can I open myself up to a new relationship—I’m already completely incapable of getting this guy out of my head and it’s driving me CRAZY—with someone who not only got me fired, but is also a public defender turned high-powered corporate lawyer?

  The other thing: I’ve met two members of his immediate family. One was very nice, but the other— Oh my God! What an ass! And things have gotten complicated. And not just because I let him put his hand up my shirt.

  Oh my God. I can’t send this to you now.

  Well, yes, I probably can, because I feel you’ll understand, on account of how your sharing with us about your wife grabbing the car keys and leaving without telling you where she was going. I sincerely hope that everything has worked out well for you and your wife.

  Well, Professor, I have to go, Dolly’s housekeeper is here to change the sheets of the bed I’m lying on.

  Please, though, if you get a chance, I’d really appreciate it if you’d drop me a line. I have no one else to turn to.

  Thank you,

  Kate Mackenzie

  * * *

  To: Jen Sadler Tim Grabowksi

  Fr: Mitchell Hertzog

  Re: Tonight

  You guys ready?

  Mitch

  * * *

  To: Mitchell Hertzog

  Fr: Tim Grabowksi

  Re: Tonight

  Thunderbirds are go.

  Tim

  * * *

  To: Mitchell Hertzog

  Fr: Jen Sadler

  Re: Tonight

  Are you kidding? I can hardly wait.

  J

  Dear Katie,

  I hear from my lawyer that you are fired, too! And because of me! I am very sorry to hear this. And so I brought you some of the cookies you like so much. I hope they will make you feel better. Also I am taking some to the lawyer man who made you fired. The ugly one’s brother. He is a good man, this brother, in spite of getting you fired. I think he’d be nice to you . . . not like that no-good other boyfriend I see you with.

  Here is the recipe for my cookies, so you can make them for this man, and he will love you.

  Ida

  Ida Lopez’s Gingersnaps

  1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter (softened)

  1 1/3 cups sugar

  1 egg

  1/4 cup molasses

  2 cups flour

  2 tsp ground ginger

  1 tsp baking soda

  1 tsp cinnamon

  1/4 tsp ground cloves

  1/4 tsp salt

  Preheat oven to 350šF. Beat butter and 1 cup sugar on medium until well blended. Beat in egg and molasses until fluffy.

  Whisk ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and salt into flour. Add flour mixture into butter/sugar mixture with mixer on low.

  Using 1/2 teaspoon, form dough into balls. Roll balls into remaining 1/3 cup sugar. Place two inches apart on greased cookie sheets. Using fingertip, place a drop of water on top of each cookie. Do not press down on dough.

  Bake 12­15 minutes or until cookies are flattened or crinkled. Cool for two minutes on sheets, then place on racks.

  Note: 12 minutes for chewy cookies, 15 for crispy.

  Hi, you’ve reached Jen—and Craig! We
can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, we’ll get right back to you! Promise.

  (Tone)

  Hey, it’s me. Kate. Where are you guys? Oh, right, it’s Uno night. Well, that explains where Craig is. But where are you, Jen? Anyway, you’re totally missing out. Mrs. Lopez dropped off a basket of cookies for me, on account of she heard I was fired. I must have five dozen cookies here. Ida Lopez’s famous gingersnap cookies. But I guess you’re not going to get any. Well, too bad, so sad. I’m going to eat them ALL.

  (Click)

  THE NEW YORK JOURNAL