Almost Perfect (17 page)

“Mom, this is Sage.”

Sage held out her large, soft hand. “Hello, Ms. Wither-spoon.”

“Nice to meet you, Sage. Would you like to come in and have a soda?”

Far down the road I could hear the squealing of tires and the blast of a horn.

“Thanks, but I think my ride’s here.”

Rob very nearly took out our mailbox, but Sage got in the car anyway. As soon as they peeled out, Mom winked at me.

“So tell me about your friend,” she prodded as we went inside.

“That’s all she is, Mom. A friend.”

Mom removed her name tag and kicked off her shoes. “An awfully cute friend.”

Two weeks ago, I would have violently disagreed. Instead, I tried to feel Mom out about Sage’s sex. “You don’t think she’s kind of, you know, burly?”

Mom glared at me. “That’s rude, Logan. She’s a little tall, but she’s very pretty. Don’t be so judgmental.”

“Yeah.” I poured myself a soda.
Don’t be judgmental
. Sage’s family certainly judged her. I wasn’t going to add to that. Her own parents didn’t accept her. Society didn’t accept her. It had almost driven her to suicide. But now she had me. I wouldn’t judge her. Not anymore.

W
INTER WAS OVER
. The last of the snow was gone, turning half the roads in Boyer into muddy, impassable swamps. The county ambulance district stopped pulling burn victims out of meth labs and started scraping them off the highway again. The girls at my school, and the middle-aged women who dressed like teenagers, would break out the halter tops and Daisy Dukes before too long.

Now that football season was over, the track team enjoyed a few months of unrestricted use of the field. Coach Garrison had us running laps. Garrison also coached wrestling, softball, and JV basketball, so we didn’t get much direction from him. “Run! Faster!”

The first track meet was in two weeks. Boyer would have its chance to square off against such mighty opponents as Moberly, Higbee, Centralia, Sturgeon, and a half-dozen other hick towns. The next few meets would be my last chance to compete. I felt foolish for thinking it, but I
wanted to go out with an impressive record. Mom even said she’d come to most of my meets. Her manager had recently hired some new waitresses, and, as a senior employee, she finally was able to get a stable schedule. No more nights, and only two weekends a month.

Jack sprinted up beside me, moving easily. He sweated more than any human being I knew. Running near him was like passing through a car wash.

“Dude,” he wheezed. “Three o’clock.”

I looked over at the aluminum bleachers. Even from the other side of the field, it was impossible not to recognize the tallest “girl” in school. Though there was still a bite of cold in the March air, Sage was wearing shorts. Her long, long legs stretched down across two rows of bleachers.

I waved as I passed, and she smiled. She must have been there to watch me. Just like Brenda used to. It wasn’t the same, of course, but it was kind of nice having a friend who’d sit out here in the chilly weather, just to see me run.

My next round, I made it a point to pass Jack and a couple of other guys. You know, just so Sage wouldn’t be disappointed. But the round after that, I realized she was no longer watching me. She wasn’t alone.

Phillip Myers. He was a junior, and that was about all I could tell you about him. He had spiky hair, had a wispy mustache, and had worn the same Members Only jacket since the fifth grade. He was sitting next to Sage, talking to her.

Sage was talking back. And laughing. I was watching them so intently I nearly missed my turn and ran into the fence.

The next go-round Sage and Phil were still chatting. What did I care? Why shouldn’t Sage have other friends? I sure as hell wasn’t jealous. It’s not like I assumed I was the only guy in all of Boyer Sage would want to hang around with. But guys only started conversations with random girls for one reason. Sage needed to be careful.

On the following lap I tried to make myself not look in their direction, but failed. Phillip sat alone, staring at his feet. I glanced around, trying to locate Sage. I finally saw her trotting to the parking lot. Where was she going in such a hurry?

I nearly knocked Jack over in my rush to follow her. Through the gate, around the teachers’ parking area, and right up to her truck.

She knew I was following her, or at least didn’t show surprise when I collapsed at the driver’s door. She had a grim look on her face, as if she’d just been unexpectedly insulted.

“Back off, Logan.”

“Hey, I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
What did Phillip say? Did he suspect the truth?

She opened the door. “I’m serious, Logan. You smell like a jockstrap.”

That would have been funny, except she still wasn’t smiling. Finally, she rolled her eyes.

“Get in.”

I sat, gasping for air, as Sage toyed with the radio. Though I tried to avoid looking at her legs, I couldn’t help myself. They were long and shapeless, with freckles on the knees, large (though not huge) feet, and a couple of shaving nicks.

“Catch your breath, Logan, then leave me alone.”

After what she’d put me through recently, I was starting to get pissed at this attitude. What had happened to the girl who’d said she needed my friendship more than anything?

“Just checking on you,” I said, failing in my attempt not to sound pissy. “You ran off in a hurry.”

She turned to me with a haughty smirk. “You know what that guy Phillip asked me to do? Right there? Right where anyone could hear him?”

I was afraid to ask. “What?”

“He asked me if I wanted to
go for a walk
.”

My calf muscles were beginning to seize up from stopping so abruptly. I waited for Sage to finish, then realized there wasn’t any more to her story.

“Go for a walk? That’s all?”

She shook her head, disgusted with me for some reason. “Logan, do you know how many guys have asked me out since I came here?”

“Two?”

Her frown deepened. I think I was supposed to guess a much higher number.

“Yes, two. But this is a small school.”

My sweat was soaking into the upholstery. “What’s your point?”

“Nothing. Forget it,” she huffed. Apparently, I was supposed to be clueing in to something.

“Sage …”

Sage placed her head on the steering wheel as if she was cuddling a pillow. “Logan, I just realized. I’m never going to have a date. Ever. In my entire life.”

“What are you talking about?”

And then it hit me. She would never be able to date. Not me, not Phil, no one. She wasn’t a woman. And she wasn’t a man, either. Too masculine for a straight guy, far too feminine for a gay one. She was stuck between two worlds. I began to understand why she so desperately wanted that operation.

Sage roughly ran her fingers across her eyes, attempting to stop the tears before they started. “You showed me I can’t lie to guys. But I can’t very well say, ‘By the way, I have male genitalia’ on the first date, can I? Jesus, I’m screwed.”

“C’mon, Sage. It’s not that bad.”

Sage reacted like I’d just told her she could make a fortune moving money out of Nigeria. “Not that bad? Logan, not everyone can be a monk like you, okay? I want to meet guys, just like any other girl, and I can’t! I’m going to be alone.”

I was utterly out of my depth. I tried to think of something to say to encourage her, but anything I’d say would just be empty words from someone who didn’t really understand. No matter what kind of friend I was, no matter how supportive I acted, Sage’s problems wouldn’t go away. There was nothing I could do to help. Sage was doomed to walk a long, lonely road. Me shouting
Everything’s going to be okay!
from the sidewalk wouldn’t do her much good.

Sage turned the ignition key. The truck was already running, and it made that nasty grinding noise. I took my cue and left.

I
STOOD
on the football field next to Jack, flanked by the runners from Westran. Jack had placed in four events at our first track meet of the spring. I’d only managed to finish a close second in the 400-meter dash.

Coach Garrison looked down at his shoes as he addressed the crowd of dozens. “We’d like to thank everyone for coming out today. Our next meet will be on the twelfth, in Hallsville. Remember, Boyer T-shirts are still for sale at the ticket booth.”

He tried to pass the mike to Principal Bloch, who just frowned and shook his head. I couldn’t tell if Bloch was pissed because he had to come here on a Saturday, if he was disappointed that Jack and I were the only Boyer students who’d won anything, or if he was just being his usual unpleasant self.

As the Westran team high-fived their way to their bus, I
scanned the crowd for my mom. It took two seconds to find her.

“Logan, you were amazing,” she bubbled as I joined her at the bleachers.

I shrugged like it was no big deal. Actually, I was really glad that Mom had come to the meet. I wished I had done better. Eighteen years old, and I still wanted to impress my mommy.

“Are you sure you didn’t finish first in that last race? It looked awful close.”

I wiped my forehead on my sleeve. “It was close, but he edged me out.”

“You were robbed.” I swiveled in time to see Sage returning from the snack bar. She sat down. I realized that the jacket on the bench next to my mother actually belonged to Sage. That meant she’d been sitting with my mom. Luckily, I was still winded, so my subsequent panic attack just looked like I was trying to catch my breath.

Mom smiled as Sage passed her a bottled water. Then Mom turned back to me. “Logan, do you need a ride home, or are you doing something with the team?”

It took me a stunned second to process her question. I was still trying to figure out why they had been sitting next to each other. “Uh, you go on ahead, Mom. I have to shower.”

Mom hugged me, smiled again at Sage, and walked to the parking lot. As soon as she was in her car, I assaulted Sage with an angry stare.

“She
asked
me
to sit with her,” replied Sage, not the least bit defensive. “I couldn’t really tell her no. It’s not like I could lose myself in this crowd.”

I could picture Mom trying to get to know her son’s “friend.” She had always peppered Brenda with questions whenever they were together. And now this new girl shows up to watch her son run. …

“What did you guys talk about?” I asked, not even pretending to be calm.

“I told her you were a tiger in the sack. And that we decided to name our first kid Durwood.”

“Sage!”

She stared at her cuticles. “We just talked about the track team and school, nothing else.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” I shouldn’t have worried. I knew Sage would have been on her best behavior. “Thanks for coming.”

She flashed her braces. “You were pretty fast out there. I was sure you were going to beat that guy. Are you going to run in college?”

“Nah.”

“I thought a guy like you might have an athletic scholarship.” For a moment, Sage’s eyes scoped out my body.

“No, just a poor-boy scholarship.” The government was really coming through for me. If I could maintain a B average, school was almost paid for. “You?”

“Wealthy parents.” We didn’t look at each other for a second. We were both just a little ashamed of our families’ financial statuses.

“Logan, about the other day …” She smiled awkwardly,
then closed her eyes with the air of someone about to give a rehearsed apology.

“It’s okay, Sage.”

“No, it’s not. You were trying to make me feel better. I need to remind myself how special that is.”

I looked down at the blacktop, a little embarrassed. I didn’t realize a third person had joined us until it was too late to escape.

She was one of those middle-aged women who could probably pass for the older sister of a student. She had a round face dotted with brown freckles, a mouth permanently twisted into a smirk, and kinky rust-colored hair interlaced with strands of gray. Her resemblance to Tammi was striking.

Sage’s mom folded her arms and looked down at me, even though I was much taller. Thankfully, she didn’t wear the expression of rage that her husband had worn. Just the typical distrustful glare of the mother of a teen girl.

“Mom, this is my friend Logan.”

“Hi, I’m Logan!” I shouted, desperately trying not to make an awful impression.

“Nice to meet you.”

We stood there not saying anything. I was sweating through my already wet clothes. Sage broke the silence.

“Logan’s a runner. You should have seen him out there.”

“I’m a runner,” I repeated.

“He’s going to Mizzou next year.”

“I’ll be going to Mizzou.”
Awk! Polly want a cracker!

I slammed my foot down on the clutch and violently shifted my brain out of neutral.

Mrs. Hendricks was looking at me like I was special, but not in the way Sage thought. “Mizzou,” she said, frowning. “Just like Sage.”

“It’s a great campus. My sister goes there, says she has the time of her life.”

Her frown deepened, and I mentally kicked myself. She probably took that to mean there was a lot of drunken sex going on at the university.

Sage cut in. “I wouldn’t know about the campus. I’m not allowed to visit,” she said huffily.

Her mom turned toward her. “Sage, we’ve been over this. You’re …” She paused for a second. “Too young to visit the college on your own.”

Sage was eighteen. I didn’t think her age had anything to do with it.

“C’mon, Mom,” Sage whined. “I could go up there on a Saturday morning—”

Her mother held up a palm. “We’ll discuss this at home.” Her tone telegraphed the fact that there would be no discussion. Mrs. Hendricks nodded politely at me and took Sage’s arm, leading her toward the family car.

So Sage couldn’t even spend the day at Mizzou by herself. I wished there was something I could do for her. Help her get out of her parents’ clutches for the weekend. It would be almost impossible to sneak her away for that long. As always, when faced with a situation that required underhanded, smarmy, double-dealing trickery, I asked myself the same question:
What would Laura do?