Perfect You (10 page)

"Hey, I tried. You're the one who called me an illiterate jackass and then practically spit on me if I so much as looked at you after that. And if you don't like me, how come we're here?"

"I--well, everything's just sort of . . . happened. And anyway, it's not like you like me, either." At least I hadn't made it a question. At least I wasn't asking him if he liked me.

Not really, anyway.

He looked at me for a moment, a strange, almost hurt look flashing across his eyes, and then he kissed me again.

I hadn't asked the question, but I had my answer anyway, didn't I? It was there, in his silence.

And it hurt. Stupid, I know, but it did.

Stupider still? I kept making out with him.

Not just that night, either. I started meeting Will

every night at work. Sometimes we met by the trash bins. Sometimes we met by Dad's storage space. One night, we made out inside a closed store. The back door had been propped open a little, probably so the empty racks and pulled-down lights could be taken away, and in that small, shadowed space, it was like the whole world faded away.

All I could think about on the ride home that night was how soft the skin on Will's back was, and how it had felt to touch it. To be able to touch him.

We'd been meeting every night, and we never talked about it. But the morning after I'd spent the whole ride home thinking about the two of us in the dark of that closed store, in our own little world, he said, "Kate," in the hall after first period, and used the voice. The voice was how he talked to girls. Other girls. He'd never used it on me.

I'd thought about hearing the voice before, back when I didn't know what it was like to kiss the skin behind his ear. I'd thought about him saying my name like that back when the pressure of his mouth against mine was a dream.

I didn't want him to say it now.

I didn't want to hear the voice because if I did, what happened between us would be out there, in the open. Real. And I didn't have a good track record with that. Real life had me friendless and selling vitamins at the mall. Real life had me sharing a bathroom with my brother and grandmother.

So I definitely wasn't all that interested in dealing with Will and reality, especially not at school, in front of everyone. "Forget it, I'm not going to tell you what we're supposed to study for the test. No one held a gun to your head and made you fall asleep in class."

"I--" he said, and touched my shoulder, stopping me. "Look, not that I don't appreciate your complete lack of interest in whether or not I pass biology, but--"

He was interrupted by Sarah, who cheered with Anna, and who was cute in the I-know-it way only girls as cute as she was could get away with. "Hey, Will, why didn't you get back to me about coming to last night's game?"

That, right there, was reality smacking me in the face. Hard.

"I had to work," Will said. "I should have called you back. Sorry."

"Oh, no, don't worry about it," Sarah said, and leaned in, pressing her breasts against his arm. "Just don't forget you owe me now" She shimmied off, hips swinging and twitching her little cheerleader flip skirt.

"Why doesn't she just do a super deluxe cartwheel backflip and flash you already?" I muttered, and then glanced at Will.

He was looking at me, and it was a strange, intense look, like he was trying to see inside me.

"Quit giving me the death stare," I said. "I'm not telling you what's going to be on the test. Besides, you've got bigger problems than that. I mean, you owe Sarah, and we all know cheerleaders are the mafia of high school. Who else can get people to pay ten bucks for a crappy car wash?"

His lips twitched. "She's not that bad. And look, I was just supposed to help out with this thing at the game last night. It wasn't a big deal or--"

"Spare me any stories about you and the creation of school spirit through dance routines and 'JHS Rules!' painted on your bony chest."

That night, at the mall, pressed up against the wall by Dad's storage space, Will laughed when my hands slid under his shirt, my thumbs rubbing over the skin below his ribs.

"Not too bony?" he said.

"What can I say, I'm a giver," I told him, and felt something inside me go weak when he laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I--" he said, but I kissed him before he could say anything else.

And before I could think of him shirtless. With Sarah.

On the way home, Dad said, "You've been really eager to take out the trash or put extra products back in storage recently. I'd love to give you a raise or, well, pay you, but--"

"Dad, I'm just trying to help." I didn't want him to keep talking. It felt strange to take praise for stuff I was doing to have frequent makeout sessions. Plus, I wanted to think about Will, not Perfect You's craptastic vitamins.

"It's just that you haven't shown much interest before, so I thought maybe--well, I know your friends must come to the mall, and I thought that maybe working with me was embarrassing and you were hiding."

I looked over at him. He was clutching the steering wheel and smiling his stupid, fake grin. I sighed. "It's not that bad. Working with you, I mean."

"Really?"

"Really, Dad," I said. "But I still won't wear a carrot hat tomorrow."

"But it's a great promotion. I know you weren't that impressed when I read you the leaflet about the new All-Vegetable Tablets, but people like vegetables."

"Dad."

"Well, they should."

"You don't even like vegetables."

"I like some vegetables," Dad said. "And you know, you really are a good daughter, Kate."

"I'm still not wearing the hat," I said, and then we pulled into our driveway and both let out a groan. Grandma had just gotten home. She'd started going shopping during the day, driving all the way down to the big mall in Faron. It was a long drive, a couple of hours each way and she always got back around the time Dad and I got home, and then asked us to help carry her bags in.

Dad didn't bring up the carrot hat plan again, not that he'd have been able to get a word in anyway. Grandma had started talking before I'd even gotten out of the car, apparently not noticing that I couldn't hear her.

"There's one truly wonderful thing about shopping here," she said as I was struggling under an armful of slippery dress bags. "No one has the foggiest clue about fashion, and so you get treated like royalty if you're willing to spend more than twenty dollars for an outfit."

Dad coughed behind the armful of bags he was carrying, the closest he'd ever get to telling Grandma to shut up.

"That's not true," I said to her. "It's at least thirty dollars. Maybe even thirty-two."

As usual, Grandma was completely oblivious to all sarcasm and said, "Well, darling, thirty-two dollars is hardly an improvement, is it? Careful with that top bag. It has presents inside." She said the last bit like it was something to look forward to.

It wasn't.

Grandma mostly bought stuff for herself, but sometimes she came back with presents for me or Todd or Mom. Tonight Todd got a suit, which he refused to try on and held like it might bite him before he put it on the floor.

Mom got a long red evening dress. The bottom fanned out into a curve that trailed across our living room floor, the tiny beads that had been sewn onto it sparkling in the light.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she said to Grandma.

Dad turned up the video game he and Todd were playing. He was fake smiling, but not very well. He knew a fight was coming, and Dad hated fighting. I figured he'd get up and

"go for a walk" in about thirty seconds.

Grandma cleared her throat. "Darling, surely you must have an occasion to dress up for sometime, and red is a wonderful color on you."

Mom looked at the dress, and then held the price tag out toward Grandma. "So you'll spend this kind of money on a stupid dress but you won't--" She broke off, clenching the tag in one fist.

"I spend my money how I see fit."

Mom frowned, then looked at Dad. "Steve, turn that damn game down."

Dad looked at her, shocked like she'd slapped him. Mom's mouth quivered, and she turned back to Grandma and deliberately dropped the dress on the floor. "I don't want this. In fact, you can take it and--"

"Mom, can I have a sandwich?" Todd had abandoned the game and was leaning back on his elbows, looking at Mom upside down.

"Sure," Mom said, visibly relaxing a little, though her voice was still tight. "Steve, honey, did you get anything to eat tonight?"

Grandma glanced at Dad and Todd, and then back at Mom. The sadness on her face surprised me.

"No," Dad said. "I got so busy working on sketches for the ad that I forgot." "An ad?" Grandma said, actually talking to Dad for once.

"Mother, come help me in the kitchen," Mom said.

Grandma ignored her. "Steve, tell me about this ad."

Dad looked anxiously around the room. Mom clenched her hands into fists by her sides.

Todd shot me a look, a panicked, this-isn't-good look.

I glanced around the room, desperate, and then saw Todd's suit on the floor.

"I want a present," I said, inwardly bracing myself. "Grandma, did you get me something?"

Todd rolled his eyes at me but turned back around, satisfied that Grandma would forget about Dad and his ad in order to get the "Oh, Grandma, thank you" speech I was going to have to give.

"Of course, darling," Grandma said, and handed me a box. Mom looked at Grandma, then Dad, and then went into the kitchen. I opened the box.

I got a pair of suede boots. Bright purple suede boots.

"I thought you needed something fun," Grandma said.

"Thank you," I said, and wondered what kind of person would look at me and decide I needed neon purple boots.

"Of course. You're a pleasure to shop for, darling," Grandma said. "Imagine how nice it is to give someone something they don't leave on the floor." She glanced at Todd's suit, and then picked up the red dress, smoothing the fabric across her lap. Her hands were shaking.

"Mother," Mom said from the kitchen, her voice low and furious, and I bolted to my room, saying, "I should really go do my homework." I worked on my English paper some more, finishing as Grandma completed her endless nighttime bathroom routine. With the coast clear, I snuck out to the kitchen to get something to eat.

Mom and Dad were still up, and they were talking in the dining room. They never did that unless they were discussing something really awful, like how they were going to pay for Todd's braces. They'd closed the door most, but not all, of the way, and I could hear and see them from where I stood.

"You said you liked the idea I came up with for the ad," Dad said.

"It's not that, Steve. How are we going to pay for it? And the house? And our cars? And everything else?"

"I know we don't have a lot of money right now, but things will pick up and get better, and the ad can only help. I know it."

"Well, things certainly can't get much worse," Mom said. Silence fell then--too much silence--and I could practically hear Dad's mouth curl up in a too-bright smile.

"Honey, don't--please don't look at me like that," Mom said. "It's not that I don't believe in you. You know I do. I just think that now isn't the right time to take money we don't have and use it for an ad."

"But I already paid for it," Dad said. "I had to split it between the last two credit cards because it wouldn't fit on one. I . . I thought it would be okay."

"No, you knew it wouldn't. You just went ahead and did what you wanted, just like always, you selfish--" Mom broke off and pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, then touched Dad's

arm. "I'm sorry. I was channeling my mother there, wasn't I? Oh, Steve, having her here is making me crazy. I'm acting like I'm Kate's age again and I--well, we don't need that, do we?"

I stood there for a second, stunned and so mad I wanted to scream. Acting my age?

Mom had no idea! If she was my age, she'd be stuck going to school and doing homework and working a crappy job and dealing with a slug of a brother and knowing her family had no money and having no best friend and getting ugly purple boots from the world's worst grandmother.

There was no way Mom could handle my life. None. She couldn't even handle her own.

Her life, which was two jobs, a husband who'd decided selling vitamins was his life's dream and who didn't care that we were running out of money to pay for it, a son who got a college degree and then came home to pursue a career in couch surfing, and a mother who drove everyone crazy.

I went back to my room. I was still mad at Mom for what she'd said, but I also saw that someone actually had a life worse than mine.

Mom.

The next day, Anna smiled at me before last period.

I was going to class, and saw Sarah walk up to Will and do that thing only girls like her can do, the one where they grin and toss their hair and manage to somehow stand like there's a spotlight shining on them, showing off how perfect they are. I hate girls who can do that.

I also wish I could do it.

Anyway, the important thing is that I wasn't jealous. I thought I might be, because of the making out, but I felt fine. Not fine as in "Oh, I hope Will and Sarah get together and come make out by me at work" fine, because that would be insane. But fine as in "I knew he'd end up with someone like her." "Ow," someone said, and I looked away from Will and Sarah and realized I'd walked right into Jennifer S.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay," Jennifer said. "It's my fault for stopping like that, but these shoes are killing me."

I looked at her a little more closely and realized she was limping when she walked, like she had blisters. "Are they new?"

"Yeah. I got them the other day with Jennifer T., and we thought it would be fun to wear them today, only she didn't wear hers. But she told me they looked cute. What do you think?"

"Very cute," I said, even though they looked like regular shoes to me. I felt bad for Jennifer S., who was clearly the non-best-friend in the Jennifer M., T., and S. friendship, the one who got left out, behind, and ignored. I knew what that felt like, and for a second I could picture me and Jennifer S. becoming friends. Real friends, even.