Hopelessly Imperfect (Imperfect #1) (8 page)

At lunch period, I met Farah at our special spot. We’d found it a few weeks ago. It was a large oak tree that offered us natural shade and was far from the cafeteria’s doors. That was a plus. We’d met there for the last week or so.

However, today she wasn’t alone. Chris, Nathan, and some other guy were there too. My steps faltered as I walked nearer, but I couldn’t turn back since they had already spotted me.

“Come on, Cass!” Farah gestured at me excitedly.

“Hi.” I waved at everyone without looking at Nathan. My feelings of awkwardness had increased with every passing hour. I just couldn’t get him out of my mind. It was unnerving, to say the least.

“I’m Jay,” said the brown-haired guy next to Chris. His skin was light brown, and he had eyes as dark as bittersweet chocolate. Not surprisingly, he was as built as his friends. He was probably a fighter too.

“Cassie,” I said awkwardly as I felt
Nathan
gazing at me.

Why is he always looking at me? Doesn’t he have anything else to do?

I’m not interesting. At all. Plus, it’s just weird.

Trying to ignore him,
I took out my lunch, a yogurt, and a ham-and-cheese bagel sandwich. I was kind of hungry since I had skipped dinner and breakfast. I started eating as I felt him sit beside me. “How was your weekend?” Nathan asked in a low voice, leaning closer to me.

It was unnerving how my heart started to race at his proximity. Yet it felt nice to be able to talk to someone. Especially him. We seemed to have a lot in common, which made it hard to ignore him. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my erratic heartbeat while willing my cheeks not to flush from how close he was. My hand holding my half-bagel was frozen in midair as I glanced at him. “Crappy. Yours?”

A soft smile crossed his face. “Same.”

A warm, awkward feeling ran through me. “How many noses did you break over the course of those two days?”

His lips tugged up into that crooked smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Two or three.” He shrugged. “Not too many.”

I smiled at that. My eyes traveled to Chris and Farah, who were teasing each other and laughing. Jay was playing a game on his phone, not paying attention to their bickering.

“Want to talk about it?” Nathan whispered by my left ear. Looking down, I shook my head. “No.”
Flashes of Marie and Dad played in my mind as I nibbled on the bagel.

“That bad, huh?” He bobbed his head as his hand played with the grass at our feet.

Not really hungry anymore, I packed away the rest of the bagel and found myself watching his fingers moving through the grass. Nathan didn’t say anything else. He just sat by my side in comfortable silence. That was one of the things I liked about him. His sole presence made me feel warm. But that was also one of the things that made me feel uncomfortable.

Yes. It was confusing as hell.

“So why aren’t you punching someone right now?” I asked casually as my eyes followed his hands.

“Maybe my interests are changing?”

I swallowed hard as I met his smoldering stare. The air felt heavy for a moment. My heart was thumping rapidly inside my rib cage. Suddenly, Chris pushed me into Nathan by accident as he tried to squirm away from Farah tickling him. Nathan’s strong arms encased me for a moment before he shoved Chris away and told him to be careful.

I tried to ignore the tingling sensation his hands had left on my arms, but it was as if a bolt of electricity had run through me.

The feeling was imprinted in my mind by the end of the day. Even when I stayed in the library to work on my homework after school. I tried to ignore those tingles and the butterflies in my stomach when he turned those gray eyes on me, but I couldn’t concentrate. I stared at the written pages, my mind blank.

Nathan Rivers was making me feel
things
. Things that maybe I wasn’t ready for. Or deserved.

Chapter Seven

The semi-darkness of the room combined with the smell of incense was starting to feel familiar. Absentmindedly, I traced my finger along the carved elephant as Amanda finished a phone call. My eyes roamed all over her office, from the statue to the window that overlooked the park where I first talked to Nathan.

My stomach churned uneasily at the mere thought of him.
Boy, I’m screwed up.

However, the spicy scent, the warmth of the room, and the teapot steaming on the hot plate on the table on the corner gave it all a sort of homey feeling. It felt more like visiting a friend than actual therapy. It was a nice change.

Amanda finished her call and placed a small plate filled with buttery treats in the middle of the table. “I hope you like green tea.” She smiled while she poured the tea into a bright yellow mug. Her smile didn’t falter as she added nonchalantly. “Your father called me.”

My heart felt heavy at her words. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

Ignoring my awkwardness, she eyed me softly. “He seemed concerned.”

Could he think I might want to hurt myself again?

Guilt and shame washed over me. Of course he did. I had done it once, and I could very well do it again, right?

Sighing, I followed her every move as she poured herself some tea. “I’m fine.” I hated how worried he always seemed to be over me. And I knew I had no one to blame but myself about it.

“Are you?” She placed the mug in front of me as she raised an eyebrow.

My shoulders slumped as my eyes followed the delicate pattern the steam was drawing over the mug. My brows creased as I murmured, “He’s dating Marie.” Amanda took a sip of her tea as I gazed at her. She wasn’t surprised or alarmed as I expected her to be. Her eyes were steady as she stared back at me. “But you already knew that, right?”

Her lips set in a straight line. “Yes. Your father called me last week. He was worried about your reaction and wanted to let me know in advance.”
How thoughtful of him
, I sourly thought.

She grabbed the plate of cookies and took one before placing it closer to me on the table. “Want to talk about it?” she asked before bringing the small cookie to her mouth.

No.

My eyes turned to the large window once again. Resentment boiled inside me. It felt like Dad was being reckless, like he was replacing Mom. It angered me to see him with another woman so soon. And her best friend, no less.

Of course my reaction concerned him. I was shocked and completely outraged at the whole situation. It felt unfair that I was sitting in the therapist’s office when it was clear he needed therapy as well.

Silence reigned over the room as I glared outside. My eyes turned to the clock next to the incense, and I grimaced as less than fifteen minutes had passed. Time seemed to be too slow. The annoyance I felt over the whole situation started to dissipate as my right hand touched my scar.

Had I been so absorbed in my pain that I never saw this coming? Was I being selfish? Did I have any right to be angry at him?

After all, I’d been in my own little world, and it never occurred to me once that anything like this could ever happen. But that was it. I was always concerned about myself.

I gnawed on my lip. The minutes passed as Amanda patiently waited for me to say something while she drank her tea.

Feeling guilty about it all, I took a deep breath while my hand kept tracing the scar. The sight of Dad’s sad eyes encased in dark gray circles as he visited me in the hospital played through my mind. Part of his anguish and sorrow had been my doing. Maybe Marie had helped him cope through it all. She was a good woman. Her only fault was that she was taking Mom’s place. And that hurt beyond anything.

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I swallowed hard. “I’m angry and disappointed—” I cast my eyes down to my fidgeting hands, “—and I feel worse because I know I don’t have the right to feel that way.”

Amanda blew across her tea before taking a sip. “Talk to me, Cassie. Let it all out.”

A shaky breath left my lips. “It’s not that I don’t like her. Marie is okay, I guess. I just don’t like how my dad is cutting flowers,
Mom’s flowers
, for her.” My voice was soft as I glanced at Amanda for a moment. “Or her food. I don’t like it. It’s
different
.”

Even though the words were coming out of my mouth, I couldn’t help but notice how childish I sounded.

Setting my lips in a straight line, I clenched my hands in tight fists. “I know I’m being selfish.” My brows were furrowed as I gazed at the window once again. “But it’s just that Mom isn’t here.” My voice cracked as the last words left my mouth.

I breathed out and rubbed the tears away with the back of my palm. “It’s like we’re replacing her. And I don’t want to do that.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “Not now,
not ever
. I can’t let her go. I want to hug her and I want to kiss her cheek, and I want to hear her laugh. Even her absolutely horrid sneeze.” I snorted at that as a tear rolled down my cheek. “I want her back.” My chest tightened as all the pain and sorrow from the night she passed away crashed down on me once again. “I can’t replace her. I need her. I need her back.” I choked on a sob as I finished talking. “I miss Mom,” I whispered as the tears rolled down. “I miss her so fucking much.”

Amanda stood up and walked to me, a tissue box in her hands. She gave one to me. Her eyes were sad and somewhat understanding. “I know it hurts, Cassie. But this—” she rubbed the back of her hand on my right cheek, “—this is what you need to do. You need to say it all, and you need to cry and mourn. Don’t keep it to yourself.”

“I hate crying,” I said between sobs.

“Me too. But it’s part of who I am, and I have to accept it,” she added softly while sitting next to me.

This sucks. This seriously sucks.

“Shouldn’t I feel better by now? Why do I cry so much? It’s been a while, and I still do it all the freaking time.”

Amanda grabbed my hand and looked straight at me. “You miss your Mom, Cass. That’s a huge deal. You’re going to cry the rest of your life for her; there are times where you’ll remember her and smile at the happy memories, but there are going to be times you’re going to miss her so much that you’re going to find yourself crying over her. Even years after. Something can trigger a memory of her for no discernable reason.” She handed me my mug.

Complying, I took a small sip as she eyed me softly. “The thing is, the more you love someone, the more you hurt when they’re gone. And that’s great. That means you loved her, and that you still do. That even though she’s not physically with you, she was so important that her loss is causing chaos inside you. That she left with a piece of you and you feel empty.” Her hazel eyes looked sad as she added, “That’s the way people should love all the time. With all their heart.”

Sniffing, I averted my teary eyes. “It hurts so bad.”

“So it should.” She patted my leg with empathy. “The deeper the scar, the greater the love.” I knew very well that she was talking about a scar within me, because that’s exactly what I felt was missing, a part of my soul. However, I couldn’t help but look at both my wrists for a moment, at the dark slashes on both of them.

“Wear those scars proudly,” Amanda added as she glanced at them too. “Because they mean you’re fighting, that you’re not giving up, and even though you may feel distraught most of the time, you’re making an effort. You’re here, talking to me, reaching out.” Her eyes were sincere as she looked me straight in my eyes. “You’re a fighter.” I bit my lip as she added, “And you’re right, Cass, nobody will ever replace her.” Despair swept through me as I swallowed the lump in my throat. Softly, she asked, “Have you talked to your father about how you feel?”

I shook my head. “We don’t talk about Mom.
Ever
.” I really hadn’t noticed that until now. We talked about ourselves and everyday things, but we never mentioned Mom. Whether it was too hard or too sad, I didn’t know.

Disappointment flashed through her face. “You have to. You two are dealing with pain, and you’re both trying to work things out by yourselves, but you have to team up, work together.”

Peeved, I bit my lip before adding, “I’m so mad at him, and that makes me feel so guilty at the same time.” I rolled my eyes.

Amanda’s lips formed a sad smile. “Why do you think he’s dating Marie?”

Just hearing those words made my stomach clench. “Mom talked to us about it. She said she didn’t want him to end up alone, that he had to move on and such.”

Bullshit, if you ask me.

“You still disapprove, right?”

My head was hanging low as I nodded. “I shouldn’t have a say in it, though.”

She took a deep breath. “Think about it, Cassie. Why is your father doing this? Just because your mom told him to? Or could there be another reason?” I let her words sink in for a moment.

My stomach churned uneasily as I remembered him crying when he told me Mom had passed away. I remembered him grabbing her cold hand and kissing her on the forehead as her body lay on her bed minutes later after she died.

I teared up as I remembered his sad, glazed eyes when we returned from Mom’s funeral. The despair and the pain in them as we walked inside the house knowing she wasn’t there anymore.

I hadn’t seen him cry since then. Nonetheless, I hadn’t been there, either. Marie probably had.

She was a good person.
She just isn’t Mom.

“I’m trying to understand him. I’m just being selfish, I know.”

Amanda squeezed my hand. “Everyone is selfish. It’s human nature. Don’t feel bad about it. You’re hurting because you’re still processing your mom’s death. On the other hand, you feel like your dad is just replacing her.” Her eyes were soft and understanding as she added, “But he isn’t.” My heart felt tight at her words. “No one will replace her, Cassie.
No one.
”

Frowning, I whispered, “So, why is he doing this?”

She pulled her hand away and stood up, then sat on her couch. “What if he feels so sad that he might need someone to help him go on? Someone close to your mom? Someone that is hurting as much as him? Someone that misses her too?”

My right hand traced the scar on my other wrist as I thought about it. Marie had always been Mom’s best friend. They were as close as sisters. They had grown up together, and they had supported each other throughout their lives.

Marie was hurting from Mom’s death as much as Dad. They had
her
in common.

As that thought popped into my head, I couldn’t help but think about Nathan too. How I felt drawn to him because he seemed to understand me. He didn’t judge me; he didn’t pity me. He was there for me, but at the same time, he let me be.

I looked up at Amanda. “What if he’s just trying to survive?” I stuttered. She smiled reassuringly while I stood up and slowly started to pace the room as I added, “They have Mom in common. And probably me too. Marie found me the night I—” I cringed while raising my wrist for a second, “—and she probably helped Dad while I was away.”

“I think so too. He’s with someone who understands his pain since she’s aching too.”

A shaky breath left my lips as I stared at my shoes. “She’s still not my mom.”

“No. She isn’t.” My eyes cut to her as she took her mug in her hands once again. “But she can be your friend if you let her.”

What if I don’t? What if I feel like this is still too soon?

What if I’m just a selfish bitch who doesn’t care about anyone but herself?

As if she sensed my thoughts, her lips set in a straight line. “You are still processing your mother’s death, Cassie. Give it time.” Silence reigned over me. “Try not to be so harsh with yourself.”

I didn’t know if I was being harsh or not. I just knew it hurt.
So fucking much.

My heart was heavy as I fidgeted with my fingers. “You know? The last time I talked to Mom, I was getting ready to go to a party. I remember her sitting on my bed as I tried to choose whatever I was going to wear, and she asked me how I was feeling, what was new in my life and I—” I swallowed hard, “—I blew her off because it was getting late and Tom was picking me up. I remember telling her that, thinking I would talk to her the next day.” Tears pooled in my eyes once again. “She smiled and simply told me that she loved me.” My voice broke at the end. I gazed outside as I sat defeated on the sofa. “What if she knew she wasn’t going to make it through another day? And I just blew her off?” I would never get to talk to her again.
Ever.

“She knows you love her.”

Does she?

The only comfort I had was when I dreamed of her; the warm feeling she gave off and the way she looked younger and happier. I told Amanda about my dreams, explaining every detail about them. Just as I finished retelling the dreams, I added, “But at the end, it’s not real. It’s just a dream.”

“Grab on to that, Cassie. She loves you, no matter what. She always will, and I’m pretty sure she knew you loved her in your own way.”