Meg Cabot - Every Boy’s Got One

Wundercat Lives—4eva!

Peter

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To: Mark Levine <mark.levine@thenyjournal.com >

Fr: Customer Service New York Journal Travel Privileges  <TravelPrivcustser@thenyjournal.com>

Re: Car Rental

Dear Sir,

Our great apologies for the misunderstanding concerning your vehicle. Our offices, as you discovered, are not open on Sundays. However, if you return the automobile you were assigned to the car rental agency in Ancona on Monday, we will happily allow you to exchange it for the four-door sedan you mentioned.

Sally Marx

New York Journal Travel Specialist

Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine

Jane Harris

OK, everything I wrote in here last night about hating Italy and wishing I were home watching ER? Strike that.

I LOVE Italy. I LOVE it here.

Just now when I woke up, I pushed back the heavy curtains from my window, expecting to see more of the hard cold rain from yesterday….

Gone. No more rain.

Instead, there was a cloudless blue sky. And a distant, green, castle-topped hillside straight out of a fairy tale. And a crystal pool sparkling below me. And the scent of freshly cut hay. And the sun-washed stone walls of the terrazza dripping with the thick green leaves and fire pink blossoms of bougainvillea, and birds singing in the treetops—

Well, what else could I do but slap on my swimsuit and hit the water?

And it was so very, very…

COLD!!!!

OK? The water is REALLY cold. Like ice-cube-tray cold. I’m writing this half-shivering to death on one of the lounge chairs, completely draped in towels.

But even though it’s only like nine in the morning, or something, the sun is already beating down. Steam is coming up from the damp towels on my legs. Soon I should be toasty….

YES. Now THIS is how I’ve always pictured a European vacation. Just me, the water, clear blue sky, bright hot sun, and a bottle of acqua con gas (sparkling water, which I found in the fridge). It’s SO quiet here. No car alarms. No sirens. No neighbors squabbling over possession of the remote control next door. Just birds tweeting, and horses neighing, and the wind rustling through palm fronds and the leaves of the olive tree beside me, its branches heavy with little round balls deepening from a pretty pale green to a deep brown color… totally bitter and indigestible (yes, I tasted one. Who knew they had to be marinated or whatever? The pomegranates from the tree at the other end of the pool are MUCH better).

In the air is the crisp, clean smell of chlorine from the pool, the scent of freshly cut hay from the field beyond the hedge, and… OK, well, the smell of horse manure drifting over from the Centro Ippico, but it’s very faint.

And off in the distance, atop a deep green rise that seems to come from the middle of the hay field, sits another fortified city, topped by a castle… Castelfidardo, where we’re going to go today to apply for Mark and Holly’s marriage license. If they can pry me from this spot. Which I sincerely doubt. Because the only way I’m moving is if—

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

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To: Listserv <Wundercat@wundercatlives.com>

Fr: Peter Schumacher <webmaster@wundercatlives.com>

Re: JANE HARRIS

Greetings! I have served breakfast to JANE HARRIS! I surprise her very much with the brotchen and hot coffee! She had just had her morning swimming when I come into yard with tray prepared by my grandmother! She scream very big!

But then she sees it is only me, and I put down tray beside her pool couch, and we have the coffee and brotchen. I bring also the Nutella, and JANE HARRIS likes this very much! We have nice chat, and I find out IMPORTANT NEWS FLASH:

JANE HARRIS HAS DEVELOPMENT DEAL WITH CARTOON NETWORK FOR WUNDERCAT ANIMATED SERIES!!!!!!!!!!

Yes!!! Perhaps we will be seeing Wundercat on television soon!

I am very interested as JANE HARRIS is telling this to me, but then one of the mans she is traveling with (don’t worry, boys, he is NOT her boyfriend. In the words of JANE HARRIS: “HIM? MY BOYFRIEND? NO WAY!”) Cal Longdon comes out of the house and says he wants to speak alone with JANE HARRIS.

So I start to go, but JANE HARRIS says “No, Peter, you stay.” And so I give Cal Longdon some brotchen and coffee too and we three sit and talk about politics for very long time before daughter of the sister of the man who owns the villa where JANE HARRIS is staying comes out and says they must go to Castelfidardo.

I am thinking I will ride on my motorino to Castelfidardo also today to see if JANE HARRIS needs anything more.

That is the report from WUNDERCAT CENTRAL! More news as it is received!

Over and out,

Peter, #1 Wundercat Fan Of All Time

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To: Peter Schumacher <webmaster@wundercatlives.com>

Fr: Martin Schneck < m.schneck@comixunderground.com>

Re: JANE HARRIS

How is JANE HARRIS looking in a bathing suit? You did not tell!

Martin Schneck

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To: Claire Harris <charris2004@freemail.com>

Fr: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Re: Hi!

Right now we’re in the car on the way to Castelfidardo to apply for Mark and Holly’s marriage license!

It’s so exciting!

It’s also sooooooooooo beautiful here. Even the BILLBOARDS seem more attractive than they do back home. They’re definitely more interesting… even though I can’t read them.

And the food! I just had the best breakfast of my LIFE… something called Nutella on this freshly baked— still warm from the oven— bread. Oh my God, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

Anyway, hope you and Dad are well!

Ciao for now!

J

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To: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Fr: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Re: Time to talk

Since you seem so reticent to discuss this face-to-face, I see no alternative other than to continue our eversation. I believe you were saying something to the effect that I ought to mind my own business where matters of Mark’s heart were concerned, and I was busy maintaining that I felt it my duty as a loyal friend to warn him of the emotional and financial jeopardy in which he is placing himself. Have you given the matter more thought, or are you still blinded by the romance of the thing?

Cal

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To: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Fr: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Re: Time to talk

Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re e-ing me from the front seat AGAIN. CUT IT OUT!

J

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To: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Fr: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Re: Time to talk

What other choice do you leave me when you won’t speak to me in person? I haven’t budged from my position that these two are making an enormous mistake. Have you, perhaps, come around to my way of thinking? I notice you seemed reluctant to leave the pool today when your friend Holly was urging us to get ready for the trip to Castelfidardo….

Cal

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To: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Fr: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Re: Time to talk

Because I was having a nice time at the pool! At least until YOU showed up there.

And no, I haven’t changed my mind. Holly and Mark belong together, and I don’t understand why

anyone would think otherwise.

And I’m not “blinded by the romance of the thing,” as you put it. It’s sweet, that’s all. And if you do anything to try to ruin it, you’re a creep!

J

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To: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Fr: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Re: Time to talk

A creep?

Cal

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To: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Fr: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Re: Time to talk

You heard me. Or read me. A CREEP. Only a creep would try to talk his best friend out of marrying the girl of his dreams. Don’t even tell me that isn’t what you were up all night doing down there on the terrazza.

J

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To: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>

Fr: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Re: Time to talk

How do you know what I was up all night doing? You went to bed at ten.

Cal

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To: Cal Langdon <cal.langdon@thenyjournal.com>

Fr: Jane Harris <jane@wondercat.com>