Caprice Crane - Stupid and Contagious

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are products of the authors imagination and any resemblance to events or to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Although some celebrities names are mentioned, they are all used fictitiously.

Copyright 2006 by Caprice Crane

All rights reserved.

5 Spot

Warner Books

Hachette Book Group

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New York, NY 1017

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First eBook Edition: May 2006

ISBN: 978-0-446-55104-5

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Baileyd

Contents

ACCLAIM FOR STUPID AND CONTAGIOUS

STUPID AND CONTAGIOUS is anything but stupid and completely contagious. Infectious, riotous, and hip beyond belief, its a great read.

Isabel Rose, author of The J.A.P. Chronicles

A witty romantic comedy debut.

Kirkus Reviews

Smart and feisty! Milk-snorting funny and playfully intriguing! Love it!

Karen Salmansohn, author of How to Be Happy, Dammit

Insanely funny and outrageous, STUPID AND CONTAGIOUS effortlessly captures the glorious awkwardness of becoming who you are, finding that special someone who drives you crazy, and ultimately following your dreams wherever they may take you.

Erica Kennedy, author of Bling

Caprice Crane rocks! This is the best book Ive read in a long, long time. Sharp, original, and wickedly funny, this is a must-read. I absolutely loved it.

Johanna Edwards, bestselling author of The Next Big Thing and Your Big Break

Caprice Cranes writing is so cool I feel like the geek girl stalking her locker, trying to slide a mix CD through the slats before she spots me. STUPID AND CONTAGIOUS is hilarious and insightful. A book with its own soundtrack, this is one not to miss.

Pamela Ribon, author of Why Girls Are Weird

Caprice Crane brings her respect for music and all of its universal sentiment into her stylish, page-turning, sharp-tongued debut novel.

Liza Palmer, author of Conversations with the Fat Girl

For my beautiful mother, Tina Louise, the eternal optimist... whose outer beauty is eclipsed only by her exquisite inner... whos been my biggest fan and cheerleader for my entire life. Your belief in me and unconditional support have inspired me, kept me going, and taught me faith. I love you with all of my heart.

Mom (Tina Louise), Dad (Les Crane), Stepmom (Ginger Crane), Grandma (Betty Yaeger), my dogs (Chelsea and Max), Jennie Abrams-Trager, Walter Afanasieff, Jeremy Armstrong, Jenny Bent, Cristina Brascia, Danielle Brisebois, Allison Burnett, Stephen Cabot, Adam Carl, Michelle Chydzik, Dahlia Cohen, Alex Coletti, Robert Cort, Jim Cotter, Tajma Davis, Denise Diforio, Steve Dirado, Amy Einhorn, Endeavor Agency, Ellen and Irwin Frankel, Glen E. Friedman, Jonathan Fuhrman, Gillian Garrett, D. B. Gilles, Jeff Goodman, Emily Griffin, Gary Helsinger, Kevin Hershey, Andy Kaplan, Devon Kellgren, Scarlett Lacey, Erik Lautier, Adam Levine, Brian Lipson, Melissa Lipton, David List, K. E. Macey, Nez Mandel, Nathalie Marciano, Cade McNown, Tracey Mikolas, Jill Morris, John Nutcher, Brigid Pearson, Dizzy Reed, Joel Rice, Kevin Roentgen, Amanda Rouse, Penina Sacks, James Schiff, Lisa Singer, Lou Stalsworth, Jason Steinberg, Makyla Stone, Sky Stone, Sarah Tomkins, Trident Media, Robert Trujillo, David Vanker, David Veloz, Joe Vernon, Amanda Voelker, Fran Warner, Warner Books, Elly Weisenberg, Andrea Wells (my third-grade teacher), and Harley Zinker

This song explains why Im leaving home to become a stewardess.

Anita Miller, Almost Famous

Yeah, well, sometimes nothin can be a real cool hand.

Luke, Cool Hand Luke

My name is Heaven Albright and my husband of two years is cheating on me. Im only twenty-five and you can argue that getting married at twenty-three is young, but Ill argue right back that people marry out of college and even high school, so considering that, its not so young. Anyway, young or not... the bastard is cheating on me. After I gave him the best years of my life.

Hes cheating on me with someone he works with. A girl from his office who he didnt even think was cute at first, but after months of working long hours together and cultivating inside jokes, and commiserating over bad cafeteria food... theyre bumping uglies. It sickens me to even think about it. Hed always be so happy when he came home late from work, and youd think I would have caught on because nobodys happy when they have to stay late at work. But I thought he just really enjoyed his job. Or maybe he was pissed off, but the minute he walked through the door and saw me, his bride of two years whom he loved and adored, all the days annoyances would disappear. Poof.

But no. He would come home all smiles because hed just gotten his rocks off with some little skank who probably wore twinsets and laughed like a hyena at their stupid inside jokes. I hate twinsets, with their matching fabric and color coordination and phony reserve. Its a known fact that twinsets are one of the most easily removed garments there is. Her name is probably Megan or Jessie, and shes probably a couple years younger than me. Shes like me two years ago, but in a twinset. Hes re-creating me even before Ive had a chance to become the tired, old, sexually reluctant ball and chain. I resent that. Im not old.

Marriage sucks. People who tell you that you stop having sex after you get married are right. You just dont have it anymore. Its not like you say your I-dos and immediately stop. It takes a little time. Of course theres the honeymoon, and the first few months of playing horny housewife and helpful handyman, or slave girl and surprisingly warmhearted barbarian, or Winnie the Pooh and the Magical Honeypot. But after a while you stop shaving your legs, and he stops noticing, and it seems more practical to try to get a good nights sleep.

My name is Brady Gilbert, and I hate the window seat. Airplanes in general are a pain in the ass, and when I clearly stipulate that I want to sit on the aisle, a window seat is a personal affront that my secretary will be hearing about. If I had a secretary.

Ill just sit here and will nobody to sit in the aisle seat. That way Ill not only have the aisle seat, but Ill be able to achieve that almost-but-not-quite-comfortable sleeping position that inevitably ends up with a dead arm, stiff legs, and dried drool at the outer corner of my mouth. In front of complete strangers, no less.

Dont get me wrong... sure, its nice to look out a window. But at what price? Do I want to have to ask permission every time I need to take a piss? Its like needing a hall pass in school, but worse. These are strangers. And when I got a hall pass, I didnt inconvenience anyone. But to go to the bathroom on an airplane, I have to make awkward small talk and offer the obligatory apologetic shrug to a guy whos been hogging my armrest. Then he gets up just enough to let me squeeze by. Hell sigh as he gets up, not trying to make me feel guilty per se, but more like Oh, these old bones of mine, which is crap unless hes over eighty. And hes not, hes just annoyed.

Then to add insult to injury, as I maneuver out of the now more room than ever before four inches of space, I hold on to the tacky fabric headrest of the seat in front of me and get a glance from that person, too. Im making enemies left and right. Flight attendants hate me, too. Me and my devil-may-care bladder. Then when I come back, I have to do the dance all over again. Heaven help me if its a three-seater with a middle seat. Not to mention the etiquette question of which way to pass my neighborscrotch first or ass first?