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第21部分（第3页）

Whoops。

It　was　all　Mystery？s　fault。　With　her　see…through　slip　and　crooked　yellow　teeth　she？d　made　him

feel　like　he　was　living　inside　of　one　of　his　poems；　kissing　a　beguilingly　odd　girl　he？d　created　at　a

raucous；　screwball　party　he？d　invented。　He　hadn？t　been　able　to　help　but　let　his　imagination　run

amok；　sending　him　stumbling　across　the　snowy　landscape　to　her　ramshackle　Chinatown　studio

apartment　and　making　love　to　her　in　all　sorts　of　odd　yogalike　positions　on　her　unfortable　futon

bed　as　the　sun　was　rising　over　the　bleak；　snow…covered　city。　It　was　almost　as　if　none　of　it　had

actuallyhappened　。　It　wasfiction　。

Except　it　wasn？t　fiction。　He？d　cheated。

Dan　had　been　dreadfully　hungover　for　the　remainder　of　the　weekend　and　too　deeply　mired　in

existential　guilt　and　self…loathing　to　answer　Vanessa？s　countless　messages　on　his　cell　phone。

He　flipped　to　the　back　of　his　history　notebook。　What　if　he　wrote　Vanessa　a　poem　and　e…mailed　it

to　her　during　lunch　next　period？　That　would　be　more　meaningful　than　flowers　or　chocolate　or　a

cheesy　Valentine？s　Day　card。　The　best　thing　about　it　was　that　he　wouldn？t　have　to　talk　to　her　and

possibly　admit　that　he？d　cheated　on　her；　because　he？d　never　been　any　good　at　telling　lies。

Mr。　Dube　was　writing　on　the　board　now。　Dan　pretended　to　makes　notes　in　his　notebook。

Chalk　angels；he　wrote。Making　meaning。

Then　he　thought　about　something　Mystery　had　said　when　they　were　drinking　their　fourth　or　fifth

Red　Bull　cocktails。　Something　about　how　she　was　tired　of　writing　obscure　poems　that　skirted

around　what　she　was　really　trying　to　say。　Subtle　was　out。　Direct　was　in。

Kiss　me。　Be　mine。Dan　wrote；　imitating　the　little　slogans　on　those　candy　hearts　girls　were　always

passing　around　on　Valentine？s　Day。Hot　stuff！

He　reread　the　words　without　really　seeing　them。　His　mind　was　still　too　full　of　his　night　with

Mystery　to　process　anything　else。　Her　stringy　dirty　blond　hair　had　smelled　like　toast　and　when

she？d　touched　his　bare　stomach　with　her　cold；　clammy　hands；　his　whole　body　had　rippled。　He？d

never　even　asked　her　what　she　meant　by　premature　death　or　how　his　poem　？Sluts？　had　saved　her

life；　but　he？d　been　so　intoxicated　by　the　taurine　in　the　Red　Bull　and　by　her　appallingly　yellow

teeth；　he　probably　wouldn？t　have　remembered　anyway。

Lost　my　virginity　again；Dan　wrote；　which　was　the　truth。　Doing　it　with　Mystery　was　like　losing　it

again。　Was　it　possible　that　every　time　he　made　love　to　a　new　woman　it　would　feel　that　way？

Before　he　could　imagine　who　the　next　lucky　girl　would　be；　the　bell　rang　and　Dan　snapped　out　of

his　reverie；　slapping　the　notebook　closed　and　tucking　it　under　his　arm。　？Hey；？　he　called　to

Zeke。　？I？ll　buy　you　some　sushi　for　lunch　if　you　wait　for　me　to　whip　off　an　e…mail　in　the　lab。？

？Okay。？　Zeke　shrugged；　trying　not　to　look　too　excited　that　his　old　friend　was　actually　deigning　to

pay　attention　to　him　again。　Since　when　did　Dan　Humphrey；　king　of　cheap　egg　rolls　and　bad　coffee；

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