I Love You, Stupid! by Mazer Harry;

Author:Mazer, Harry;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Teen & Tween

13

“This came in yesterday’s mail,” Sally said, handing him a manila envelope. She was in her robe. It was Sunday morning. The envelope was creased in the middle, and Marcus saw at once that it was the same self-addressed envelope he’d sent Playboy with his story. Did it have an acceptance? Or was his story inside, rejected, come back to him? He went weak with fear and couldn’t open it. Oh, god, he prayed, let it be something good.

Dear Mr. Rosenbloom. Dear Mr. Genius. Dear Incredible New Writing Discovery. And there would be a check. Usually we pay $500, but since your story was so outstanding we enclose a check for $5000.

In his room he threw the envelope on the bed. Too fat to be just a letter and a check. The manuscript was inside. Open it! In the mirror he looked himself bravely in the face. Open the envelope. If you’re going to be killed, face it.

He tore open the flap. There was a brief printed note attached to his manuscript. “Thank you for submitting your manuscript to us, but at this time …” Blah, blah blah. He crumpled the note, then kicked it under the bed.

That night Marcus had his mother’s car. He wore a fawn-colored turtleneck and his old tweed jacket. He had pushed the rejection of his story out of his mind. Well, not completely, but he wasn’t going to think about it or talk about it either.

Wendy sneezed when she met him at the door of her aunt’s house. She wore a skirt and heels and carried a leather pocketbook. “It’s my aunt’s and it’s full of tissues,” she said hoarsely. She sneezed again. “I woke up with this cold this morning.” Her nose was red. “Let me say good-bye to my aunt and uncle.”

Aunt Ginny and Uncle Doug were in the living room playing backgammon. “Hello, Marcus,” Aunt Ginny said. “You look nice.”

Uncle Doug, still in the white coveralls of the laundry company he drove for, gave Marcus an unenthusiastic look. “You go to that play tonight, Wen, and you’re really going to get sick.”

“I have to go, Uncle Doug.” She sneezed again, then kissed her aunt and uncle. “Don’t you guys wait up for me.”

In the car she kept the tissues in her lap. “How do I look, Marcus?”

“You want the truth, or a nice lie?”

“Forget it.” She reached for a fresh tissue and blew, then for another one to wipe her dripping eyes.

“Maybe you should stay home?”

“No. Alec called to see if I was coming, and I promised. What will he think if I don’t show up?”

“Probably won’t notice the difference.”

“Thanks a lot. You are a grump.”

He grunted.

Wendy reached for a tissue. “Well, how’s the fair Karen?”

“No comment.”

“Okay, how’s the writing going?”

“I don’t want to talk about that either.”

Wendy sniffled. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

Marcus maintained a rude silence, remembering the rejection of his story. Every time he thought of it, it made him feel sick. “Playboy rejected my story,” he said at last.

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