Faking Perfect (11 page)

“Hi, Mom,” I said in a much perkier voice than I usually used, causing her eyes to narrow even farther. My right hand, clutching the computer mouse, refused to obey my brain’s directive to
move
. “We were just researching, um . . . ”

“Magnets,” Nolan said, furtively hitting a button on the keyboard and making my father’s website disappear. “Electromagnetism. For our physics homework.”

My mother shot him her special look, the one she held in reserve just for him. A look of pure contempt. A look that said,
You’re one of
them
, one of those meddlesome Bruces, and I don’t like you.
Guilt by association. That look was the reason why Nolan had only been in my house a handful of times in the past five years.

“Well, how about you research somewhere else,” Mom said, her wary gaze on me now. “I need to catch up on some emails.”

And some bills too, I hope
. I stood up and ushered Nolan and Amber from the room. Hopefully, my mother wasn’t aware that she could track my online activities by hitting Ctrl+H. I highly doubted it; she wasn’t the computer savvy type. Note to self: delete browsing history later.

“Want to come over?” Nolan asked when we reached the top of the stairs. “We’re doing burgers on the grill later.”

“Please come,” Amber begged. “It’s always good to have an even male to female ratio.”

I did want to go over and eat burgers with them, very much, but after last week I wondered if I’d even be welcome.

Nolan saw the hesitation on my face. “Mom would love to see you.” He lowered his voice, in case my mother was listening. “You really should talk to her, Lex. She has herself convinced you hate her and won’t ever speak to her again, like your mother.”

Damn it, he always knew precisely how to get to me. I sighed. “Fine. Just give me a few minutes. I have to return some calls first.”

He nodded and swung open the front door. Sunshine poured into the entryway, along with the unseasonably warm breeze. All the slush and ice and leftover snow from last week had dissolved into water, trickling from rooftops and saturating the dead, parched grass.

“Hey, Nolan?” I said as he and Amber stepped outside.

They paused to look at me.

“Let your mom know I’m coming. And that I don’t hate her. Okay?”

For the first time since he’d arrived at my house today, he smiled at me. “Okay.”

In one way, at least, I wouldn’t be like my mother.

Chapter Ten

B
efore school the next morning, it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to not smoke a cigarette. My nerves jangled just thinking about climbing into the backseat of Ben’s car when he came to pick me up for school. When I’d returned Emily’s call the day before, she’d sort of brushed off the whole party incident, even though I could tell she was disappointed in me for losing control of myself like that. But she’d said nothing about Ben’s thoughts on the matter, and I couldn’t ask. She
did
assure me that I hadn’t said anything embarrassing, which eased my mind somewhat.

To offset my disgrace, I wore my best outfit, spent a half hour on my makeup, and styled my hair to perfection. I looked normal. Strong. In control. Too bad I didn’t feel it, too.

Ben’s Acura slid into place against my curb a few minutes later than usual. With my breakfast in my throat, I took my spot next to Emily in the backseat.

“Good morning,” she said, leaning into me as if she was checking for the aroma of nicotine. Or alcohol. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I glanced at Ben, who was fiddling with the vents. Once they were all adjusted to his liking, he turned and flashed me a small, tight-lipped smile. My muscles relaxed, but not all the way. Tori, sitting in the passenger seat, didn’t turn around or say anything to me at all. In fact, the vibe I was getting from her was quite frosty.
Crap
. I guess she didn’t take too kindly to her boyfriend playing Knight in Shining Armor for another girl.

The atmosphere was even frostier in first period math. Throughout the entire class, I was hyper-aware of Tyler’s presence behind me, sensed him watching me, hating me. I hadn’t heard from him since he’d stormed away from me on Friday night. Three days of no contact wasn’t unusual, but his behavior was. What had gotten into him lately? It wasn’t like either of us stopped seeing other people once we’d started sleeping together. I knew he saw other girls, probably had sex with them even, and he knew I went out on the occasional date. Nothing serious, of course, because I would never become involved with one guy while sleeping with another. I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t a cheater.

For some reason, seeing me with Dustin had offended him, even though I hadn’t kissed Dustin and didn’t plan to. This new possessive side of Tyler made me uneasy. The reason I’d picked him in the first place was because of his carefree, no-strings-attached reputation. Our casual relationship had always been enough for him. Or at least it used to be.

Whatever was eating at him, I wished he’d get over it. We’d only been apart for a few days, but already I missed him in a purely physical way. My body craved his body, just like my heart longed for Ben.

It would be nice if my heart and my body formed an alliance someday and started working together.

At lunch, I met up with Shelby and Emily in Ms. Hollis’s classroom.

“Hey, everyone, it’s the Tequila Queen,” Shelby announced, applauding as I entered the room.

Being a good sport, I took my requisite bow and said, “I’m here all week.”

“God, I hope not,” Emily retorted. “Get buzzed, fine, but blacking out is just trashy.”

I laughed, which wasn’t easy, and sat down in a desk with my lunch. “Don’t worry. I’m never drinking that much again.”

“Why did you?” Shelby asked as she settled into the teacher’s desk chair. Her stomach looked like it had ballooned another few inches over the weekend. “You never get smashed like that.”

“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “You were a little off all night. Upset about something.”

I concentrated on picking a green pepper off my cold pizza slice.
If only they knew the truth,
I thought. If only I could tell them about my father without the fear of being judged or pitied. If only I could share with them my feelings of confusion and rejection and the tiny spark of excitement that sometimes popped up when I thought of that email address, neatly copied onto the paper in my snake book. For the past two years, I thought my father was gone, dead. Admitting that he’d abandoned me would make me look even worse than I had on Friday night. I could never let myself come across as vulnerable. Not around them. The only person I trusted with the real, raw part of me was Nolan, and only because we’d grown up together, constant bystanders in each other’s lives. He had seen every side of me—the good, the bad, the authentic, the fake, and everything in between—and I’d never once feared losing him as my friend.

I’d also never feared losing Teresa. Even after a week of stubborn silence on my part, she’d welcomed me back with open arms—literally—when I arrived at her house yesterday afternoon. She had my forgiveness immediately, especially after I found out she’d called Josie back during the week to gather more intel on my father. Just in case I ever wanted to know more, she’d said.

I’d been surprised to discover that I did want to know more. Curiosity chipped away at my denial, making way for a torrent of questions. Most had to do with my mysterious half-siblings, whose existence fascinated me. After gobbling down burgers, Teresa and I had sat alone together on the back deck while she told me what she knew about them. My mind drifted back to our conversation.

“
Josie wasn’t sure about their names,” Teresa said. “But she said they were young, preteen age. A girl and a boy. She also mentioned that the girl looked just like the mother.”

The mother. My stepmother. “What’s she like? His . . . wife.”

“Josie said she seems friendly. Her name is Renee. She works at the backhoe company, too, doing the books.”

“And my father’s father . . . my, um, grandfather.” It felt weird, assigning these familiar titles to people I didn’t know at all. “You said he died. How . . . ?”

“A heart attack. It was really bad.”

“And his wife? My grandmother?”

Teresa reached down to stroke Gus, who’d stretched out in the sun beside her patio chair. “She died years ago. Breast cancer.”

I thought of the quilt she’d made for me, its colorful squares of fabric so carefully sewn together. The quilt’s presence in my room now suggested that I must have been attached to it even at age four, when my mother or I packed it away in a suitcase and carried it three thousand miles from Alton to Oakfield.

I waited until Teresa stopped petting Gus and then looked her square in the eye. “Do you think my mother knows any of this?”

She blinked a few times, but held my gaze. “I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe. Josie hasn’t spoken to her, but I’m sure there are people in Alton who do.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“
For the same reason I didn’t, I imagine. She wants to protect you and she thinks you’re probably better off not knowing him. He was such a mess back then, Lexi. The drugs . . . “ She trailed off, shaking her head. “But hey, maybe he’s a different man now. People change. ”

That, I doubted. If he’d changed, become a better man, why hadn’t he contacted me even once in thirteen years? Why didn’t he want me back in his life, now that he’d presumably gotten his shit together? Was it because he had a new family now, one that wouldn’t up and leave him one day, so he’d decided to just cut his losses and forget me? It was what I believed, but all I said to Teresa was, “Yeah. Sometimes. ”

As I sat in Ms. Hollis’s room picking the mushy toppings off my lunch, I felt my friends watching me, waiting for me to open myself up and give them a glimpse inside. Instead, I gave them my stock response to pretty much any inquiry on my life or current mindset. “Everything’s fine.”

If only.

The warm weather continued for the rest of the week. On Thursday evening, I went to Grace’s. We were going to the playground while her parents labored over their taxes at the kitchen table.

“Mommy and Daddy have to finish the taxis before the deadwine,” Grace informed me when I dropped by to pick her up.

“You’re a godsend, Lexi,” Rachel said, securing a pint-size Barbie backpack on Grace’s shoulders. “If you can keep her out for about an hour, that would be great.”

“No problem.”

The park and playground were a ten minute walk away. The whole way there, Grace prattled on about what she wanted to do first when we got there. By the time we arrived, she’d settled on swings first, then slide, then “rock climbing,” which was just a six-foot-tall, plastic structure with footholds.

“Push me, Wexi,” Grace said, running ahead to the swings. I quickened my pace and followed her.

Only a handful of people were there, two parents sitting on a bench and three little kids racing each other down the biggest slide. When I reached Grace, she handed me her backpack and scrambled into one of the saucer-shaped swings, the kind you can lie down on if you’re small enough. Grace leaned back, her sneakered feet hanging off one end, and ordered me again to push her, adding, “Pwease.”

I pushed her, slow at first and then high enough to make her grab onto the edges of the swing and shriek. “Higher!” she shouted. Little adrenaline junkie.

“It doesn’t go any higher, Gracie.”

After a few minutes of this, she got bored and bolted over to the slides. The family was packing up to leave, the mom securing the smallest kid in a stroller and the dad seizing the hand of the slightly bigger kid, who was wailing. I sat down on the bench they’d just vacated and pulled out my cell phone, scanning it quickly for messages. None. Ten days. It had been
ten days
since Tyler last climbed through my window. Sure, I’d told him a million times in the past seven months that we should stop seeing each other, but I was obviously bluffing. He’d never taken the suggestion to heart before. We rarely went this long without having sex and it was starting to really get to me. Why wasn’t he answering my texts and calls? How mad
was
he, exactly? Mad enough to get back at me somehow? His silence made me nervous.

“Wexi!” Grace called from the top of the twisty slide. “Watch me!”

I stuffed my phone into my pocket and watched her spiral down the slide and pop out the other end, landing on her butt in the gravel. “You okay?”

“Yep.” She got to her feet, brushed off the back of her pants, and headed for the ladder again. Not much discouraged Grace.

Forty-five minutes later, after she’d gone on every piece of equipment at least five times, had a drink of water and a pack of Goldfish, and chased a squirrel through the trees near the soccer field, I figured it was safe to head back. When I called to Grace that we needed to leave, her lip quivered for a second and then she shuffled, ever so slowly, over to me. I took her hand and we trekked up the grassy incline to the sidewalk. Disappointment swiftly forgotten, she started belting out the chorus of what sounded like a Disney movie song.

When we rounded the corner onto Sprucewood Drive, Grace suddenly stopped singing. “Who’s that man?”

Instinctively, I pulled her closer to my side, peering across the street and then behind us. “What man?”

She pointed straight ahead. “That one, at the store.”

I looked in the direction of the convenience store a few yards ahead of us and saw Tyler out front in the tiny parking lot, standing beside his car. His right hand rested on the driver’s side door handle while his left clutched an unopened pack of cigarettes. He was looking right at us. Even from several feet away, I could see surprise with a hint of panic flash across his face. My first thought was
When did he get his car back and how?
Followed quickly by
Oh God, we have to walk past him to get home.
Hopefully he wouldn’t get into his car, shift into reverse, and run me over. Grace would be traumatized for life.