Perfect (22 page)

“Anything else? I want to call

Cara.” Jeff shakes his head, says

he’ll see me at home. When I try

Cara’s cell, she picks up right

away. “Can we get together later?”

For some reason, I’m a little

surprised when she says okay.

Andre

For Some Reason

More and more, day

by day, my life feels

like an ultimate

rush

thrill ride. One minute

I’m in the air, soaring

to unimaginable heights.

Close my eyes, I

plunge

toward the earth,

breath caught within

the fear, then inches

from the crash, I

find

my wings again.

And it’s all because

of her. She is madness,

sanity. She is hell, and

paradise.

I Can’t Believe

The things I’ll do for Jenna. I mean, thrill

rides are only the start.

Today I am going to watch a cheerleading

competition that her sister is in. No way

to spend a Saturday, but

Jenna is very good at getting what she wants.

Usually when I pick her up, she’s outside,

waiting. Not this time.

I sit at the curb for a few minutes, finally

dial her cell phone, which goes straight

to voice mail. Guess that

leaves going up to the door, and as I make

the long walk, it comes to me that I might

actually meet her family.

Part of it, anyway. I ring the doorbell. Wait.

Finally I hear footsteps. A fortyish woman

opens the door. She is

taller than Jenna, more slender. But they share

the same platinum beauty. “Mrs.…” No,

Mathieson isn’t right.

That would be Jenna’s dad’s last name.

I realize I don’t know her last name. “Uh,

I’m Andre. Jenna’s…”

God, does she even know we’re going out?

Her expression says maybe not. “Uh, is Jenna

here?” I am a total clod.

Of course she’s here. If not, I should run.

Despite her obvious shock, she says,

Jenna will be ready

in a minute. Come on in.
She moves

away from the door, and I feel like I really

need to apologize.

“I’m sorry I don’t know your name. Jenna

calls you ‘Mom and Patrick.’ I mean, you and

your husband…” I need

to shut up now. Thank God she’s smiling.

Before She Can Enlighten Me

Jenna stomps into the hallway, eyes

sharp with anger.

I hate him. He can’t be serious, right?

The question is directed at her mother,

who answers with a shrug.

I know I shouldn’t ask, but I do. “Who?”

My poor excuse for a father. Can you

believe he’s getting

married, and he wants Ken and me to

be in the wedding party? Bridesmaids?

I wouldn’t even do

that for someone I liked. What a joke.

Arguing with her is not a wise thing to do.

So why do I let words fall

out of my mouth? “But wouldn’t you feel

bad if he got married without you there?”

At her evil expression,

I joke, “Anyway, you know you’d look amazing

in one of those beautiful bridesmaid dresses.

Maybe amethyst or fuchsia

or something?” My grin is met with bitter stares.

Both from Jenna and from her mom. I don’t think

I’m making much

of an impression on Mrs.… whatever her name is.

“Okay, maybe not. Well then, are you ready to go?

Does your sister need a ride?”

I haven’t yet met the infamous Kendra, either.

She
drives,
you know. And she left hours ago.

They have to warm up, not

to mention all that makeup and hair stuff.

Jenna is more the natural type. She’s pretty

without makeup, and all

her waist-length hair needs is brushing.

Standing here is getting uncomfortable, though.

“It was very nice to meet

you,” I tell Jenna’s mom. All she does is nod.

We Are Halfway There

And neither of us has said a word. I know

Jenna is stressing out

about her dad’s wedding, but I’m stressed

about something totally different. “Did you

ever tell your parents about

me? I thought your mom’s jaw was going to

stick in the open position when she saw me.

Didn’t help things when

I didn’t know her name. What
is
it, anyway?”

Jenna pulls herself out of the trance she’s

been under.
What? Mom’s

name is Caroline. Why do you want to know?

“Not her first name. Her last name. You

never told me, and it

was rather embarrassing not to know it.”

I did tell—I never told you? Her—

Patrick’s—last name is

Carruthers. Sorry. I could have sworn…

Funny, no matter what she does or doesn’t

do, all she has to do is say

“I’m sorry,” and my anger just melts away.

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter now. I was a shock,

obviously. Don’t you

talk to your mom about who you’re dating?”

Seriously? Of course not. We’re not, like,

best friends or anything.

God, I barely talk to Kendra about stuff.

“Why not? I thought sisters told each other

everything.” Not that I’d know

anything about it, except what I’ve seen on TV.

You don’t believe everything you see on

Lifetime, right? Wait. Do

you watch Lifetime? Because that’s weird.

“Lifetime? Wha…?” And now we’re both

laughing. Jenna has the rare

talent to be able to turn anything into a joke.

The Carson High Parking Lot

Is overflowing cars, and a steady line of people

heads toward the gym. “Wow.

How many teams compete in these things?”

Jenna shrugs.
Pretty much every northern

Nevada high school will

be here. Even some from the rural counties.

Which makes it dozens. We squirm our way

through the door, look for

a couple of empty spaces in the packed bleachers.

The competition is well under way. We watch

a team from Reno High

complete a complicated routine. I’m not a huge

sports fan, so rarely watch cheerleaders. But

after witnessing three

or four squads do their thing, I have to admit

I’m impressed. They could be really great

dancers, not to mention

gymnasts. “They’re really athletic, aren’t they?”

Jenna snorts and elbows me in the ribs.
Well,

duh. What did you

think this was? Third-grade gymnastics? It takes

years of practice to reach this level. And that

takes real dedication,

which explains why you’ll never see me cheer.

“Is there anything you
are
totally committed

to?” I guess I’m hoping

she’ll say me. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

Her fingers knit with mine, and my heart

tries to convince my brain

that she’s going to say the words I want to hear.

My brain is not surprised when she whispers,

Commitment means

losing yourself to gain something temporary.

Nothing lasts. Not looks. Not love. I’m living

large and living for

today because there might not be a tomorrow.

Her Admission

Stated so matter-of-factly is like a slap

to my cheek. I suck in

breath. How did she become so world-weary?

I want to argue. But she’s right about looks

not lasting. Even my mom,

who is beautiful for her age and knows every

skin care secret, is starting to look middle-aged.

Love? Well, it seems to

fade for everyone eventually. And tomorrow?

Okay, fine. I kiss her gently on the cheek, softly

exhale into her ear. “If all

you can promise me is today, I’ll take it and hope

for tomorrow. And just so you know, today

I love you, Jenna.” Her face

swivels toward me, and her eyes bore into mine.

If she’s looking for lies, she can’t find them

there. But though she

blushes pleasure, all she says is,
Thank you.

More Than Anything

I want to take her out of here, find a warm

hideaway to show her

exactly how much I love her. But just now

the announcer tells us the Grizzly Girls are making

their way to the floor.

No need to ask which one is Kendra. She’s her

mother’s daughter. Except she’s rice-paper thin.

“Does your sister eat?” I ask,

half expecting a rebuke. Instead, Jenna answers,

Only when she absolutely has to. She’s doing

the heroin chic thing.

You’d think Mom would do something, huh?

Actually, yes. But Kendra seems to be strong

enough. She’s tall, so is on

the bottom rung of all their pyramid stacks, along

with a muscular girl with toffee hair and a chubby

redhead. A girl on the middle

tier draws my eye. She is compact. Round. And black.

The Grizzly Girls

Are a formidable team, and they place well

ahead of the rest. After

they collect their trophy, Kendra waves

toward Jenna.
Guess we should go say

hi.
She gloms onto

my hand, holds tight, leads me down

the bleacher stairs like I’m a little kid who

can’t handle it on his own.

But that’s okay. I like the possessiveness.

All eyes are on me, and each pair seems

to hold a different

opinion. Jenna makes the introductions.

This is my sister, Kendra.
The toffee-haired

girl is
Cara;
the redhead,

Aubree.
And the black girl is named
Shantell.

It is she who gives the most scathing look.

And when I say, “Pleased

to meet you,” she turns around, stalks away.

Cara

Turned Around

I can’t see the hurt in Sean’s

eyes. Blinders on, I can pretend

he
wants
me to run from him.

I

have opened the flood-

gates, am helpless against

the furious flow. I

don’t

have the strength to fight,

can barely keep my head

above water, and I don’t

know

where I’ll wash up if I just

let go. Does it hurt to drown?

No one teaches you

how to

walk away from someone

who you know loves you.