Perfect (20 page)

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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse, #Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance, #Dating & Sex

BOOK: Perfect
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You
are
still a child, and it would
be good to remember that.…

I was pretty much boiling by then,

and Mom sitting there, blank faced,

only made me angrier still. “Not for

long. I’ll be eighteen next month.”
Then he nailed me good.
Right.
You mean after your plastic surgery.

It Was An Implied Threat

And the threat was, “Apologize right now

or consider keeping your big, ugly nose as is.”

Okay, he wouldn’t have put it so bluntly,

but that’s what he meant. Or something close.

I backed off. De-escalated. Couldn’t

risk calling his bluff, though I was pretty

sure that’s all it was. Swallowed

my anger. “I’m sorry I swore, okay?

But I had nothing to do with Dad

being there tonight. Cross my heart.”

As apologies go, it was snippy, but

the best I could do, and it seemed to
appease Patrick.
Apology accepted.
About that time Jenna came in, messy

hair and blurred makeup indicating

she’d had a little too much fun that night.

The attention shifted to her, so I made

my escape, still percolating a big pot of anger.
At my back, Patrick’s voice had risen
again, this time at my sister.
Where
have you been, and what have you
been doing?
Buzz buzz buzz.

I headed straight for my room, and

the little bottle of dysfunction stashed

in a sock in my dresser. And down

went one more Percocet. Two left. Minus

one, not quite a week later, after I found

out my dad is getting married again and wants

Jenna and me to be bridesmaids. We

don’t even know his girlfriend, something

my sister was very clear about. More

family drama to come on that front for sure.

I Popped The Last Percocet

Three days ago, when I was passed over for

a
Teen Vogue
fashion shoot. I had my heart

set on it. I figured they didn’t pick me

because I still can’t get into a size two. Close.

But not quite. But when I asked Maxine

if that was, in fact, the reason, she hung
her head and admitted,
That’s not why.
I’m sorry to say I dropped the ball.
It was a bad week—my daughter lost
her baby, and I had to help out with
her other kids. I just forgot to put things
in motion. But there will be other opportunities.

I almost lost it. But how could I without

coming off as totally heartless? So I nodded

and fumed and finally dug into my wallet

to find the business card of Xavier Winslow.

Xavier

Cool name for an awesome agent.

We agreed to meet over Starbucks

coffee, and though I felt a tiny bit like

a traitor, I had it in my mind from the start

that all he had to do was say the right

things and I’d flip reps without looking back.
He said all the right things.
You’ve got
the
look, that’s for sure.
His eyes crawled
all up and down my body.
If you want
to do runway, you could maybe lose
a couple of pounds, but I can help you
with that.
Then his creeping gaze stopped
unapologetically right beneath my clavicle.
And… have you considered implants?

He was so straightforward, I somehow

didn’t feel the slightest embarrassment.

“As a matter of fact, I have. But my parents

don’t want me to.” I went on to tell him

about my upcoming rhinoplasty, and

even asked what he thought about Botox.
He just kept nodding until I was through.
You are serious about this as a career,
then. I suspected as much. Here’s the deal.
I have the connections to take you to the top.
But you have to be willing to do things
my way. If you have an opt-out in your
contract with Maxine, jumping agencies
won’t be a problem. And I can be very
persuasive when it comes to reticent parents.
Give me fifteen minutes with your mom,
she’ll come around. Your stepdad may
be tougher. But that’s what moms are for.

Xavier Will Be Here Any Minute

I made sure his first meeting with Mom

would be when Patrick was busy adjusting

bands and wires on kids’ crooked teeth.

Mom wasn’t especially interested
in my changing agents.
Maxine has
been good to us, and good for you.…

“Mostly true. Except she just lost a huge

contract because of personal problems.

I need someone who will always be there.

Just listen to what he has to say, okay?”

She agreed, and when the bell rings now,

I let her answer the door. First impressions
and all. She hides her stutter fairly
well.
Uh… oh… please, come in.

In Mom’s world, Xavier Winslow

is soap-opera fine. And all charm.

Not To Mention A Natural Flirt

We sit around the kitchen table, and

though I am the topic of conversation,
Xavier is all about Mom.
I can see
where your daughter gets her beauty.
Did you ever model? No? What a shame.
You could have gone straight to the top.

Mom blushes and smiles and flirts

right back. This is a mother I’ve never

seen before, and it’s all because this

great-looking man is playing her so well.

It takes twenty minutes at least, but by

the time Xavier is finished, Mom is beeswax,

melting into his smile, and I have a new agent.

When I walk him to the door, he winks.
I’ll call you next week.
He slips a small
bottle into my hand. The label says Meridia.

Sean

My Hand

Has long been my dance
partner. I learned
the routine at eleven.

Early

to the game, I guess.
Fifth grade is much
too young to understand
the nature of uninvited

lust.

It didn’t even take visual
stimulation, just the raw
sensation of skin against
cotton, and the memory

is just

as vivid as the real thing.
Okay, maybe not quite.
But there was something
about the innocence—

confusing

as it was—that made
those first clumsy explorations
border on magical.

Used To Be

I’d wake up every morning

and have to spend several
minutes doing the hand jive.
It’s a guy thing, I know. But

not really sure if it’s because

of something that went on

in a dream, or just because
of the Boy rubbing nice
against those warm sheets.

Either way, it was a great way

to start the day. But now

I wake up limp as a worn
sock. I’ve been tempted
to test the Viagra solo, just

to see if things will still work.

But it seems like a waste

of a roaring boner if those
pills do what they promise.
So I’ve been saving them up

for a little (lot!) Cara action.

I’m Tired Of Saving Up

I really want to see her, want

to know what it’s like to make
love to a girl who I really love.
But lately I’m not sure what’s

going on with her. For the past

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