Waiting for Perfect (4 page)

NICK

Lunch sucked.
 
I didn’t feel like watching Sebastian be
the center of attention at the lunch tables, so I hung out with my friends Dylan
and Raj in the music room.
 
After
Physics, Kendra made no move to block my exit.
 
Thank God.
 
I
don’t think I could’ve handled her get-to-know-the-new-kid routine again
without being an even bigger asshole than yesterday.

I don’t know why it
makes me so mad that she doesn’t know who I am.
 
It’s not like I still like her.
 
All I know about her is that she’s a spoiled rich kid, like
most of the kids at this school.
 
She’s cute, but she hangs out with that bitch Megan, so she’s probably a
bitch too – like she was when she laughed at me in front of everyone in
seventh grade.

Sixth period
Spanish is a breeze.
 
Since mom
speaks to me in Spanish half the time, I figure this class will be an easy A.
 
When I walk out to Sebastian’s Mustang
in the senior lot, he’s leaning back against it, talking on his cell
phone.
 
When he sees me coming, he
hangs up and slips his phone in his pocket.
 

“Hey cuz,” he
says.
 

I don’t know why he
insists on calling me that.

“Hey,” I respond.
 
I walk around the car to the passenger
side.
 
“Hey, when are you going to
let me drive this thing?”
 
Not that
I actually care to drive the Mustang, but I do want to learn to drive.
 
Mom says she’ll teach me, but with
working two jobs, she’s never home long enough.

Sebastian climbs in
and starts the car.
 
As he revs the
engine, he states, “Nobody touches my baby.
 
Besides, you don’t even have your license.”

As he starts out of
the parking lot, I say, “I was kind of hoping you’d teach me.”

This seems to shock
Sebastian for some reason.
 
“Is
that why you don’t have your license yet?
 
No one ever taught you?”
 
He
throws his head back and laughs.

In between gasping
for breath, he says, “I thought it was because you wanted to demonstrate some
kind of rebellion against social conformity or something, not that you didn’t
know how.”
 
He continues to laugh.

“I don’t know why
you find this so funny,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed ahead.

Sebastian wipes his
eyes with the back of his hand.
 
The guy is actually crying from laughing so hard.
 
At me.
 
Jerk.
 

“I’m sorry.
 
It’s just that you’re turning seventeen
- when?
 
November?”
 
I nod, and he continues.
 
“Dude, you’ve been sixteen for almost a
year now.
 
I moved here in
June.
 
Why the hell did you wait so
long to ask me?”

“I don’t know!
 
And why do you find this so funny?
 
Just forget I said anything.”
 
I pull my phone from my pocket, slip the
earbuds into my ears, and turn up the volume.
 

From the corner of
my eye, I see Sebastian blabbing something at me.
 
I don’t give a shit.
 
I don’t even look at him.
 
He leaves me alone until we get home.
 

I still don’t know
why it amuses him so much that I never learned to drive.
 
Half my friends don’t drive yet.
 
What the hell is the big deal?

When we pull up to
the driveway, I get out of the car and hurry into the house and up the stairs
to our room.
 
Our
room.
 
It used to
be
my
room.
 
I close the door and hope Sebastian gets the hint that I
want to be alone.

Two hours later, he
knocks on the door and pushes it open.
 
I’m sitting on my bed with my sketchpad in my lap and my earphones
blasting.
 
I glance up at him, and
he gives me an apologetic smile.
 
It looks like he has something to say, so I pull my earphones out of my
ears and wait.

“I’m sorry I
laughed at you earlier.
 
Are we
cool?”
 
He cocks his head to the
side and holds his fist out to me.

Reluctantly, I
punch his fist with mine.
 
“Yeah,
we’re cool.”

“Good.
 
I’m going to the game.
 
Are you sure you don’t want to
come?”
 
He turns toward the closet
and pulls out a blue t-shirt.
 
Half
of his wardrobe is blue.

“Yeah, dude.
 
I’m sure.”

He’s spiking up his
black hair effortlessly and looking at me through the closet mirror.
 
“You still wanna go to Jeff’s
party?
 
I can pick you up before I
head over there.”

I have no idea why
I agreed to go to this party, but I feel like I should be there.
 
Hopefully, Sebastian doesn’t ditch me
the second we walk through the door.
 
“Yeah, pick me up after the game.”

Sebastian smiles
proudly.
 
“Cool.
 
I’m glad you’re coming.”
 
He turns from the mirror to look at
me.
 
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
 
His smile is too perfect, resting on
his perfectly thick jawline.
 
He
drives me crazy.

I nod and slip in
my earbuds as he’s closing the door.
 
Sebastian’s cologne fills the room, making me wish again for my own
space so I can draw in peace.
 
I
stare down at the sketch in my lap to see a woman’s face partially covered with
her long hair.
 
She’s looking off
to her left and wearing an amused expression.

After another hour
of drawing and listening to music, I walk downstairs for something to eat.
 
Just as I’m warming up my Hot Pocket,
my mom comes through the door.

“Nicolás!
 
Hola, mijo.
 
Que pasa?
 
Did
you have a good day?”
 
Her arms are
filled with grocery bags, and I rush to meet her at the door to relieve her of
them.
 
She gives me an appreciative
smile.
 
“Gracias, mijo.”

I set the bags on
the counter and start putting items in the refrigerator while mom unloads her
purse and slips off her shoes.
 
“Yeah, mom.
 
It was
good.
 
Not much happened.
 
Sebastian is at the football game.
 
He’s picking me up after, and we’re
going to a party.”

She crinkles up her
eyebrows.
 
“Really?
 
You don’t usually go to parties,
honey.”
 
Leave it to my mom to
state the obvious.
 
I shrug.
 
A bright smile grows over her face, and
she claps her hands together.
 
“This is great!
 
Maybe
you’ll get to know more kids this year, Nicolás.”

Is this her way of
telling me I should have more friends?
 
That I should be more social?
 
More like my extroverted cousin?
 
I try to smile, but her words sting, and I’m left with an awkward curve
of my lips that feels plastic.
 
“Uh, yeah.
 
Maybe.”

After putting the
groceries away, I grab my Hot Pocket and walk toward the family room to watch
TV.
 
My mom carries her shoes in
one hand and her oversized purse in the other and makes her way to her bedroom,
saying she’s going to shower off all the cooties she caught today at the
daycare.
 

I hate that my mom
has to work two jobs.
 
Being a
nurse and a daycare worker is exhausting, and she frequently comes home and
retreats to her bed immediately.
 
She is too skinny, and I worry that she isn’t eating enough.
 
I tried to get a job over the summer to
help with the bills, but she told me not to.
 
She wants me to focus only on school.
 
I think she’s hoping I’ll get a
scholarship for college.
 
There’s
no way we could afford it otherwise.

I don’t see my mom
again and assume she fell asleep after her shower.
 
I spend the night watching a
Criminal Minds
marathon on A&E.
 
At one point, Raj calls to tell me he and Dylan are going to
see the new horror flick, and he wants me to come.
 
He seems disappointed and shocked when I tell him I’m going
to Jeff Weaver’s party.
 
We usually
don’t do parties.

It’s almost ten
o’clock, so I expect Sebastian will be home soon.
 
I decide to head upstairs to brush my teeth and change my
shirt.
 
Only a few minutes pass
before I hear the front door slam and heavy steps coming up the staircase.

Sebastian barges
through the bedroom door.
 
“We
won!
 
Suck that, San Clemente!
 
42 to 6.
 
It was a slaughter!
 
You totally missed it.”

His excitement,
though exuding from his very core, lands flatly on me.
 
I really couldn’t care less about our
football team.
 
“Bummer,” I say
sarcastically.

Because he’s used
to my sarcasm, he’s not offended.
 
He flashes a smile and says, “Let’s go.
 
The football team won’t be there yet, but everyone else was
heading over.
 
I guess Jeff’s
brother is at the house to let us all in.”

The realization of
actually going to this party hits me, and I find myself having second
thoughts.
 
I think Sebastian sees
it on my face because suddenly he’s pulling me by the arm and leading me
downstairs before I can change my mind.

“It’ll be fun,” he
says.
 
“Maybe someone will get
really wasted and start a fight.
 
Or maybe some drunk chick will think you’re hot and try to get in your
pants.”
 
He takes his car key from
the kitchen table, and we walk out the door toward the Mustang.
 
“The night is full of possibilities,
Nick.”
 
He raises an eyebrow at me
from across the roof of the car before ducking under to the driver’s seat.

I follow suit and
climb in the passenger side.
 
Full
of possibilities.
 
Yeah, I’ll
probably be walking home tonight.

SEBASTIAN

Expensive cars line
Jeff’s street.
 
Nick was quiet on
the five-minute drive.
 
I can tell
he doesn’t want to be here, which makes me wonder why he agreed to come in the
first place.
 
I hope he’s not a
downer all night and wants to drag me home early.

I love my cousin
and all, but seriously, his moodiness kills me sometimes.
 
I never make a big deal about it
though.
 
I know that’s just how he
is.
 
I kind of feel sorry for him
– like he’s missing out on some good things in life, hiding under his
earphones and sketchpad and long-ass hair.

 
Jeff’s place looks more like a resort
than a house.
 
It towers over the
cul-de-sac and is surrounded by palm trees.
 
The entrance is a high stucco archway illuminated from up-lights
recessed in the perfectly landscaped grass.
 
It looks like something out of a magazine.

Kids are pouring in
through the front door, most of them jabbering about the football game and how
we smashed San Clemente.
 
I blend
right in as I come through the doorway, high-fiving Ryan Morgan and recapping
the details of the game.
 
It takes
me a minute to realize that Nick is standing silent next to me.

“Ryan, this is my
cousin, Nick,” I say.

Ryan is a stocky
guy, built like a football player, but not one.
 
He looks Nick up and down and says, “What’s up, man?”

“Hey.”
 
Nick nods once, and his long hair dips
over his pierced eyebrow.
 

He looks totally
out of place in a house full of jocks.
 
The guy’s got balls to even show up here.
 
I wonder again why he decided to come.

“Well,” Ryan says,
eyeing a group of girls at the pool table.
 
“I’ll see you guys around.”
 
He walks toward the girls in a cool swagger that I’m sure is
meant to impress them.

We’re just walking
out the huge French doors into what I can see is an amazing backyard, when I
hear, “Sebastian!”

I cringe,
recognizing Emma’s voice.
 
I
hesitate a moment before I turn around to face her.
 
She’s skipping – literally skipping – up to Nick
and me from the kitchen.
 
She’s got
a red, plastic Solo cup in her hand, and from the glazed look in her eye, I can
see whatever she’s drinking has taken the desired effect.

When she reaches
us, she drapes an arm over my neck and presses her amazing tits against my
chest.
 
In a slurred half-whine,
she says, “Sebastian!
 
I’m so glad
you came.”
 
She releases her grip
on me and turns inquisitively toward Nick.
 
“Who are you?”

It amazes me that
my cousin has been at this school for two years and no one seems to know who he
is.
 
“Hey, Emma.
 
This is my cousin Nick.”

Nick smiles
awkwardly.
 
“It’s nice to meet
you.”

She moves away from
me and takes a step closer to Nick, who seems petrified of her.
 
The look on his face is classic, and a part
of me wants to pull out my cell phone to record this interaction, but I
refrain.

She smiles broadly
and hollers, “Cousin!” She throws both arms around Nick’s neck.
 
He flinches, twisting to break free of
her.

At first I think
he’s just freaking out because a female is touching him, but then I realize
that in her swift motion to embrace Nick, she has spilled half her drink down
his back.

“Shit!” he
screeches.
 
The confusion on Emma’s
face tells me she doesn’t even know what happened, which makes the whole thing
even more hysterical.
 
I’m almost
doubled over from laughing so hard.
 
The regret over not pulling my cell phone out to record this is almost
painful.

Nick curses
again.
 
Emma pulls away from his
grip and, in the process, spills the other half of her drink on Jeff’s shiny
travertine floor.
 
I slap Nick on
the shoulder, trying to contain my amusement.
 
“Oh shit! That’s funny!”

Nick grimaces and
pulls his shirt around so he can assess the damage.
 
“Yeah, real funny, asshole.”

There’s a red
stripe down his back from her drink.
 
I’ve seen him wear that Dexter t-shirt a hundred times, and because I
hate that TV show, I don’t mind that it’s now ruined.

Emma looks at his
drenched shirt and then to her empty cup, realization finally dawning.
 

“Oops!” she
announces.
 
“Did I do that?”
 
She starts laughing and tries to
comfort my cousin with another hug.

Nick deflects and
backs away with his hands held out in front of him to ward her off.
 
“Uh, it’s okay.
 
Just…stay back.”
 
I try not to chuckle at his attempt to be
cool about the whole situation.
 
He
looks like he’ll spontaneously combust at any moment.

One of Emma’s
friends comes to retrieve her, and they retreat again to the kitchen, probably
to refill Emma’s drink – like she needs it.

After a weak
attempt to wring out the drenched shirt, Nick grunts and succumbs to his
fate.
 
“Hell, whatever.
 
These people already think I’m a
freak.
 
Who cares if my back is
bright red?”

I smile
encouragingly.
 
“That’s the right
attitude, man.
 
Just rock it.
 
Maybe you’ll start a trend.”
 
He is laughing now too, which makes me
feel good.
 
For a minute there, I
thought he’d want to leave.

There are dozens of
people in the backyard and even a few splashing around in the swimming pool,
which looks more like a Hawaiian lagoon than any backyard pool I’ve ever
seen.
 
A line trailing out from the
white lattice gazebo signals that’s where I go for beer, so I head that
way.
 
Nick follows me.
 
I’m starting to think he doesn’t know any
of the people at this party, or none of them know him.
 
If he wants to stay close, that’s fine
with me.
 
I wouldn’t ditch my
cousin.

As we wait in the
short line near the keg, I observe kids in the yard.
 
Some are dancing to the hip-hop music blaring from the
outdoor speakers.
 
It’s great dance
music, and I plan to find a hottie to dance with later tonight.

“Look at those
girls over there,” I say to Nick, nodding in the direction of two girls
grinding on each other.

“Sluts,” is Nick’s
response.

“Yeah,
probably.
 
But it’s still
hot.”
 
I nudge Nick’s arm with my
elbow.

He smiles and
wiggles his piercing up and down.
 
“Definitely.”

His answer makes me
happy.
 
I’ve never seen him with a
girlfriend, and I’d be lying if I said I never suspected him to swing the other
way – not that I would mind or anything.
  
I’ve got a couple of gay friends.
 
But the fact that Nick is into chicks
means we can hopefully share some cousin bonding time talking about them.

I don’t have any
siblings, so Nick is it for me.
 
We
grew up together until we were about ten.
 
That’s when my aunt and uncle moved to Orange County.
 
He visited me in Texas two years after
his dad died.
 
I guess he thought I
would understand because of what happened to me.
 

My friend Ricky and
I got him drunk for the first time.
 
Ricky gave him a couple of tattoos with a homemade gun.
 
It felt good to have family around
me.
 
I thought that maybe we could
be like brothers again, as we were back then.
 
That he’s even at this party with me is a step in the right
direction.

When I’m filling my
plastic cup, I hear a commotion from inside the house.
 
Everyone starts cheering as the
football team arrives.
 
They’re
receiving a hero’s welcome, which is pretty cool since they absolutely crushed
the other team.
 
I guess they
deserve it.

I offer a cup to
Nick.
 
“You want a beer?”

Nick shakes his
head and turns his attention back to the football players as they come out onto
the patio.
 
A new round of applause
erupts from the outside crowd, and the guys on the team yell obscenities about
San Clemente, to which everyone’s cheers grow louder.

Jeff Weaver slaps
high-fives through a sea of people and ambles over to the keg near Nick and me.

“Veneto!
 
Glad you could make it.”
 
He grabs a cup from the table.

“’Sup Jeff?
 
Nice game.
 
You guys killed ‘em.”

He beams.
 
“Yeah, man.
 
They had it coming.”
 
He starts filling his cup under the keg spout and eyes Nick.
 
“Who’s your friend?”

“Another Veneto
actually.
 
This is my cousin,
Nick.”

He slaps hands with
Nick.
 
“What’s up, man?”

“Hey.
 
Your house is great.
 
Nice party.”

Jeff looks between
the two of us.
 
“Two Venetos.
 
Well, I’m glad you both could make
it.
 
Have fun.
 
Just don’t break anything.”
 
He takes a big gulp of his beer and
then walks off with his buddies.

As I watch him head
back inside, my eyes catch a girl’s slight frame through the window by the pool
table.
 
A blue mini skirt hugs her
perfect hips.
 
Blue.
 
My favorite color.
 
Ryan Morgan’s got his hands all over
her, which tells me she’s taken, but I can still look.
 
That body deserves to be
appreciated.
 
She looks familiar,
but I don’t remember where I’ve seen her.
 
Maybe she’s in one of my classes.

“Wanna play pool?”
I suggest to Nick, hoping to meet the svelte figure behind the glass.

“Sure.”
 
Nick shrugs.
 
“I suck though – just saying.”

“So do I, but we
can fake it.
 
Let’s go.”

We nudge our way
back through the house and over to the pool table.
 
When we get close enough, I recognize the girls.
 
They’re the ones I sat with at lunch
today – well, tried to sit with anyway.
 
The girl in the miniskirt is the one that fled the lunch
table earlier, saying she had to pee.
 
Brilliant.
 
I definitely haven’t
heard that one before.
 
I must say it
hurt a little.
 
I usually attract
girls, not run them off.
 
Maybe she
sensed what kind of guy I am – the kind that will never get close to
anybody.
 
Some girls know it before
they even meet me.

The blonde one’s
eyes light up when she sees us coming.
 
She either has no idea about the kind of guy I am, or doesn’t care.
 
I sense that she’s a lot like me.
 
She stands a little straighter and
sticks her chest out like some jungle bird doing a mating dance.
 

“Sebastian,” she
calls as we approach.

I bump fists with
Ryan and try to discreetly check out his girlfriend in the miniskirt.
 
Then I turn toward the blonde and say
sweetly, “Megan, right?”

She’s gleaming,
probably ecstatic that I remembered her name.
 
But then again, I’d bet everyone at this school knows her
name.

She slides to my
side and regards Nick next to me.
 
“Who’s this?”

“Nicolás!” a voice calls.
 
It’s Ryan’s girl, the angel in the blue
skirt, the one that wanted nothing to do with me at lunch today.

She scoots up
beside Nick.
 
Her light brown hair hangs
in long waves over a top that is cut high enough to leave something to the
imagination.
 
My mind instantly
starts imagining.
 
And how the hell
does she know Nick?
 
It seems she’s
the only one at this party who does.