Hopelessly Imperfect (Imperfect #1) (2 page)

The all-too-familiar feelings of guilt and shame poured down on me as tears rolled down my cheeks. I bit my lip as I averted my eyes, trying not to sob in front of him.

“We’ll get better.” A hint of hope laced his words. “For her, Cassie. We will work through this because that’s what your mom would have told us to do.”

His rough, calloused hand touched my hand, and I closed my eyes as the tears kept rolling down. I held his hand for a moment before reopening my eyes. His were pooling with tears.

My heart ached for him. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand as I mulled over his words.

We have to work things out. For her. For us.

The house looked the same as it did when I left. The front porch had one too many potted plants arranged on the sides of the entrance, and Mom’s eccentric taste was evident as you walked inside. Our home was decorated in a variety of styles. Most of the furniture was country style. A few abstract paintings hung on the walls. A wide array of different orchids were scattered throughout the room, and all the pots holding the plants were different, from color to form and height. Some looked like small vintage buckets, while others were painted in bright colors. Mom loved plants, and orchids were her favorites. Every part of the house had her touch in one way or another.

My heart pounded as I looked around. The brown, faded sofas were still in the same place. The TV controller was on the dark wooden table in the same spot Mom always wanted us to put it so we wouldn’t lose it. The plants were watered, and one or two were flowering.

It was as if she were still there. For a moment, I expected her to walk out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel, smiling that beautiful smile of hers.

Only that didn’t happen.

I breathed out as I swallowed a lump down my throat. Slowly, my feet moved toward the kitchen, Mom’s favorite room. She loved cooking, and she was really great at it. Every breakfast, lunch, or dinner was treated as a feast in this house. We would eat in the dining room using the best china we had. Eating in front of the TV was out of the question. Mom hated that.

All of that changed over the last eight months. It was so hard for her to get out of bed that cooking hadn’t been an option. Since I was busy with school, Dad managed to get an old neighbor to cook for us. She cooked at her home and brought us plates of different food every other day. I supposed it still worked that way.

Coldness seeped through my bones as I stepped out of the kitchen. My stomach clenched as I blinked fresh tears away. It was clear it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Because Mom is gone.

An overwhelming feeling of sorrow washed over me as Dad murmured from the door, “Mrs. Ross has been sick for the last few days. We could order some pizza for dinner.” To be honest, I wasn’t really hungry. I hadn’t been hungry in a while. My clothes felt loose.

Dad picked up the phone and dialed Ramone’s, Mom’s favorite pizza place as he paced to the TV room. With a broken heart, I walked to my room. My feet slowed down in the middle of the stairs as I eyed my parents’ bedroom door. The image of Mom’s lifeless body lying on her bed played in my mind. Her slightly open eyes, her cold hands, her pale color. The sight of her would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I didn’t realize my feet had stopped moving and I was frozen on the stairs until Dad said, “Looks like today is going to be Chinese.” He stopped before the stairs, eyeing me warily. “They’re short on staff and no one can deliver tonight.”

“I’ll get it,” I said, relieved since I just wanted to get out of the house. My sorrow was too deep right now.

My father’s face set in a frown. “But you just got here.”

“It’s only two blocks away.” I stepped down. “I’ll be back in less than twenty minutes.”

His shoulders tensed and doubt played on his face. “Are you all right?”

“I need fresh air—” my voice was indeed breathless, “—and it’s getting a pizza. I can do it.” I grabbed the brown jacket hanging by the door. “Would you—” I paused as I grabbed the doorknob, “—can you trust me?” Sadness seeped into my words.
Of course he doesn’t.
I had tried to hurt myself. I’d just come back from a mental institution, and I was clearly having a panic attack. Casting my eyes down, I sighed.

“Twenty minutes,” my dad said as I released the doorknob.

My eyes immediately searched his. Even if he still looked dubious, Dad was giving me this as a sort of test. He pulled out a fifty dollar bill and extended it to me. “I want change. And a couple of those garlic-cheese buns.”

My hand trembled as I took the bill. “Thank you.” My voice quavered.

“Twenty minutes, Cass. I’ll come looking for you if you aren’t back by then.”

I nodded, thankful to get away from the house for just a little bit.

The pizza place was literally two blocks away—barely a five-minute walk. I ran as fast as I could to get away from home. It was stupid, really. I was walking back there in twenty minutes; but so many emotions were running through me and I just needed room to breathe.

In no time, I found myself in front of the pizza place. Ramone, the Italian man that owned it, was friends with my parents. He was talking on the phone and waved at me from behind the counter. I assumed he was talking to Dad as he nodded my way, a small, relieved smile playing on his face. The bells chimed as I stepped inside, and a warm wave of air touched my flushed cheeks. I smoothed my hair down as I noticed a large group of people. And not just any kind of people. Schoolmates.
Just my luck.

Ramone’s was one of the best pizza places in town, so it was bound to be crowded. Especially since we lived close to Harvard and my school as well. Dad was a lecturer at the university and loved to walk down to his job, and I could do the same to school.

“George called,” Ramone shouted in that thick Italian accent of his. “We’ll have your pizza ready in no time!” He gestured for me to sit in one of the booths, and I obediently complied. I could feel my classmates glancing at me, but I ignored them. I had never been friends with any of them, anyway.

The group was mainly made up of guys. They were all fit and loved to dress in darker tones. A few had tattoos, and one of the girls had a lip ring. They wouldn’t be considered emo, though. They were more like the badass clique. Most of them got detention on an everyday basis, and they even had this sort of street-fighting thing going on.

One thing was for sure, they were definitely not people I’d ever crossed paths with.

The room grew noisy once again as I reached my booth. Curiosity got the best of me as my eyes traveled their way. All five of them were completely ignoring me now, having gone back to their usual bickering. All but one.

Averting my eyes, I fidgeted on my seat, hoping he’d turn away like the rest of them, but he didn’t.

I knew his name. Everyone did. He was kind of a loner at school and one you didn’t want to cross. Nathan Rivers.

My eyes locked on his for a moment. They were gray. And intense. His stare was serious as he gazed at me. Breaking eye contact, I looked away.

Why is he staring at me?

My fingers started to trace the slight scar under the sleeve of my jacket as my left foot began to tap impatiently under the table.

Please turn away. Turn away. Just effing turn away.

“Cassie?” A blonde girl stood in front of me. Surprised but thankful for the interruption, I found one of my old friends staring at me. Meredith was the kind of girl who was pretty without makeup, yet she insisted on wearing tons of it and really tight clothes just to fit in with Marissa and her friends. I always felt she was trying really hard to fit in. But I couldn’t judge her, could I?

“Mer.” I bobbed my head. “Hi.”

Her brown eyes were wide as she assessed me. “Where have you been? It’s been months since we all saw you! Wait ’til Marissa knows you’re back! She’s going to be, like, so happy about it!” she blurted in less than three seconds, and everyone’s eyes were back on us. Meredith’s voice was kind of squeaky, and the fact she was excitedly gesturing with her hands wasn’t helping me stay low profile. Before I could utter a word, she eyed me, confused, “Are you all right? You look…”
Like shit? Like a complete slob? Thinner? Uglier? Sad?
“Different.”

Pulling down my sleeve on my left wrist, I breathed out as I shrugged, “I’ve been better, I guess.” My gaze traveled behind her back to the guy who still had his eyes fixed on me. His face was expressionless, but his lips were tight, and he looked as if he were solving a difficult equation. He didn’t even care that I was, once again, looking his way. I think Meredith must have said something else, because I heard her squeaky voice one more time. For a fleeting second, Nathan’s lips tugged up in a small smile. But I must have imagined it all, because a moment later his face was blank as always.

Meredith shoved her face in front of me, pulling me back to our conversation. A gasp left her mouth. “You know about Tom and Marissa.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. One she seemed to be afraid to say.

“What?” I asked, taken back. Tom was one of my friends. Actually, more than that. We weren’t dating, but we sort of kissed from time to time. He was nice but definitely not boyfriend material. I enjoyed kissing him, but I didn’t think of him like that. “So they’re together now?” I looked at her, trying to be polite. I really didn’t care who dated who.

Meredith closed her eyes and nodded, biting her lip as if this whole ordeal pained her. For a moment, I felt bad for her. Maybe she thought we were all friends. Maybe they were, but I never was, not really.

Puzzled at her reaction, I shifted on my seat again. “Good for them, I guess.”

“Aren’t you mad?” she voiced in a higher tone. Sighing, I looked behind her. That Rivers boy had slightly tilted his head and was observing me curiously.

What the hell?
I was sure he had more important things to do than hear about Tom and Marissa hooking up.

Bemused at the fact that he was still watching me, I turned back to the petite blonde. “I don’t care, Meredith. He’s not my boyfriend,” I murmured. “He never was.”

She didn’t seem to get the point as she continued to move her arms. “Yeah, but it’s Marissa! Your best friend!” I frowned at that
. She’s not my friend. Neither are you.
Meredith looked at me as if I was growing a second head.
Sheesh.
Apparently, the fact Tom was dating Marissa mattered to others since the room felt quiet all of a sudden. My eyes flickered to them to find Rivers still staring at me intently. A bit annoyed, I glanced Meredith. “They can do whatever they want.”

She looked taken aback. “I’m here for you, you know that?” As if that meant anything.

I sighed.
Can she just leave already?
“I know, Meredith, I know.” My hand played with the almost-empty napkin holder on the table.

Her eyes stayed on me for a moment. “You’ve changed.”

My hand froze as I looked up. My chest tightened as I glanced behind her. Nathan was still looking at me. “Things have changed,” I murmured before pushing myself up and walking to the counter to pick up my order.

I could feel his unnerving gaze following my every move.

Chapter Two

The distinctive smell of pancakes woke me up. Bright sun slipped from beneath the curtains. The house felt too warm, and everything was too bright. Warily, I got up and paced downstairs. Every step I took made the smell stronger. Pancakes had always been my favorite food as a child. The kitchen was so bright that I had to cover my eyes for a moment.

My whole world stopped when I heard
her
laughing. I stood still as I watched Mom smiling at me. She pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit down at the table. She looked young. Her hair was brown and fell to her shoulders. She was wearing her favorite dress, which was white with orange embroidery. She wasn’t pale anymore. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked completely healthy. Like she had been three years ago. In fact, she looked even younger than that.

Mom. You’re not real. You’re dead.

She placed a large plate of pancakes in front of me and took a seat across the table. Her light brown eyes gazed at me with love. My heart pounded inside my chest. A large lump formed inside my throat, and I couldn’t say anything. I knew this was a dream. I knew she was still gone.

She seems so real, though.

A moment later, without knowing how it happened, I was sitting on the table in front of her. She beamed at me. The large lump in my throat sank deeper into my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Gently, her hand reached out for my hand on the table. I followed her movements as she placed it on top of mine and held it tightly. My heart skipped a beat as she closed her fingers around my hand and smiled. A bright and encouraging smile. Warmth wrapped around me, and a small sob left my lips as her hold tightened.

I wanted to say so much to her. There were so many things I needed to clear up with her. So many apologies she deserved. Yet, I couldn’t say anything. No words left my mouth.

I love you, Cassie.

Her lips didn’t move. She didn’t say it, but I heard her voice and I could feel her love surrounding me like a warm blanket.

With a sudden gasp, I opened my eyes. Darkness encased me as I realized I was in my room. My hand touched my cheek as I felt tears rolling down. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could see the distinctive silhouette of the wooden desk beside the window, the open suitcase I left on the floor last night.

It was just a dream.

I sat in bed and wrapped my arms around my knees. I closed my eyes even though I was still crying.

It felt so real.

I could still feel the lingering warmth of her hand on mine. I visualized her bright smile. The way she looked. She was so different than the last image I had of her. She looked healthy, and most of all, she seemed at peace and happy.

I wondered if that’s how
I
wanted to see her.

Was it real? Is there more to life after death? Is she all right?

I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like she was better. Like she wasn’t suffering anymore. I remember the words the priest had said at her funeral. He had said Mom was glorified. Those were his words. That she was in a better place. He had been happy and proud when he had said it, and I just couldn’t understand how he could be at peace knowing my mother was gone.

Religion wasn’t my forte. Even though we were Catholics, we didn’t go to Sunday services. We didn’t pray at the table. Yet we believed in God. I knew I did. With everything that had happened with Mom, I needed to believe.

A sense of peace washed over me as I still felt that warmth inside me. This was the first time I dreamed about her. But I knew she was gone. Sadness encased me.

I miss you, Mom. God, I miss you so much.

No matter what I did, I always felt like I wasn’t good enough for her. She pushed me to be better each day, and the fact she was outspoken meant she said whatever was on her mind and sometimes she came across as a bit harsh. When she did that, I usually ended up feeling bad about myself and mad at her.

However, my mother, even with all her faults, was a great mom.

The tears had stopped by the time I grabbed my cell phone and looked at the clock. Six a.m. It was still too early to get up, but I couldn’t sleep anymore. My hands were still trembling because my dream had felt so real. Sighing, I got up and walked to my closet. Since we only had one bathroom across the hall, I needed to bring my clothes with me to shower.

During the last couple of years, I had changed my whole wardrobe. My looks had been too important to me, and I always had to have the latest trends. As I looked over the packed closet, I wondered how my parents had put up with me. I shook my head and grabbed the first pair of jeans and t-shirt I came across.

I washed myself and got dressed robotically. For once, I didn’t take long doing my hair as I just dried it and pulled it up in a ponytail. I also didn’t put on makeup. I usually didn’t use more than mascara and lip gloss, but I just didn’t feel like wearing them now.

As I closed the door to the bathroom, all freshened up, Dad strode past me. “Hey.” He smiled that sad smile at me that he seemed to use all the time now. “I’m going to make some coffee.” I gazed at him and forced myself not to look at the door he had just come out of. That distinctive lump formed in my chest whenever my eyes turned to it.

The image of my mother was imprinted in my mind. Her paleness, her coldness, her lifeless eyes. Swallowing hard, I followed Dad to the kitchen. Silently, we drank coffee and had some leftover pizza for breakfast. He gave me some money for lunch before grabbing his jacket. He was driving me to school—something the old me would have been freaking out about. Today, I felt like I needed him to drive me. I was dreading the whole school thing, and I think he needed to keep an eye on me too.

As Dad parked in front of the main entrance at school, he glanced at me. “Are you going to be fine?” Concern laced his voice. “If you don’t feel ready, I could talk to the principal and you could stay home for a few days until you get used to everything.”

Until I get used to not having Mom around? I don’t think that will ever happen.
I shrugged. “Dr. Simmons said going back would help.”

Dad eyed me for a moment before nodding. “Do you want me to go with you?” I shook my head and tried to smile at him. I had to meet with Mr. White, the principal. The school was well aware of my situation, and he wanted to have a word with me.

Before I closed the car’s door, Dad’s voice stopped me. “I’ll be back at seven with something to eat.”

“Okay. Thanks for the ride.” His blue eyes watched me apprehensively, before he bobbed his head and waved good-bye. He waited for me to pass through the school’s door before his red van disappeared out of sight.

With a heavy heart, I walked through the student-packed hallway to the principal’s office. A lot of people greeted me, and I responded robotically.
This was such a bad idea, Dr. Simmons.

Emma, the secretary, greeted me and showed me to Mr. White’s office. She always reminded me of an adorable grandma; plus, she was really kind. She hated to be addressed formally and made sure everyone knew that. That’s why all the students called her by her first name. Smiling at me, she led me inside the office and gestured for me to take a seat on one of the two chairs in front of the principal’s desk. She instructed me to wait for him.

I had never been to his office before. My eyes scanned the room. It was a gray, modern office. Quite ordinary. A few awards hung on the wall along with pictures of him and his family.

A chubby man stepped in moments later. He had gray hair and brown eyes, and his gaze was stern as he greeted me and took a seat on the black leather chair on the other side of the desk. “Good morning, Miss Taylor.” His eyes watched me impassively. “I, on behalf of the school’s staff, offer our sincerest condolences for your loss.” He grabbed a sheet of paper from his desk. “You’ve always been a good student, and I expect it to continue that way.” He paused for a moment before adjusting his glasses. “Mrs. Smith, our new counselor, who is running late—” his lips set in a straight line for a second, “—will be checking up on you from time to time.”

My brows furrowed. “But I have to go to therapy twice a week already.”

His eyes were stern. “I am aware, Miss Taylor. However, this is the standard procedure in school. You will have to meet with Mrs. Smith at least once a week.” He raised an eyebrow. “Understood?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Good. Now, Mrs. Grove will give you your schedule, and you’ll have to hurry to get to your first class, since you’ve already skipped homeroom.” He stretched out his hand, and I shook it with a sinking feeling that he disapproved of my past actions.

Mrs. Grove, or Emma, was waiting patiently at her counter with my schedule in one hand and a bar of chocolate in the other. She smiled at me as she came near. “This is for you, sugar pie. Your schedule and something to sweeten your day.”

“Thank you.” Awkwardness engulfed me. I wasn’t used to be treated differently. I wasn’t even sure that I liked it.

“Oh, come here!” She grabbed me by the arms and encased me in a tight hug. “I’m really sorry for your loss. If you ever want to talk to me, I’m all ears.” She watched me affectionately as my chest constricted.

“Thank you.” I bit my lip as she pulled away.

“Don’t mention it.” She smiled at me. “Have a great day!” Blinking the tears away, I nodded without another word.

Calculus was my first class. I walked through the hallway passing several closed classroom doors since the bell had already rung. Usually, I would sit in the middle row, but as I made my way into the classroom, I saw all the seats were occupied except for a couple in the back, next to the window. I took the first one, ignoring the curious glances people gave me. I rarely talked to anyone besides my alleged friends. Which was fine now. I really didn’t feel like socializing. My eyes drifted to the front row, where a redhead was already taking out her pencils and notebook.
Anne.
My last real friend.

I stopped talking to her the moment I learned about Mom’s condition. She called me and tried to reach out, but I pushed her away, just as I pushed away everyone that cared for me. That awful sense of shame came over me, and I averted my eyes.

Someone took a seat behind me, bumping their desk against my chair. “Sorry,” a rough voice said. From the corner of my eye, I saw the same gray-eyed boy from the pizza place. He was sitting right behind me. Nathan Rivers, the guy that wouldn’t stop looking at me yesterday. My stomach clenched.
Great.

“I said I was sorry,” he pushed in a low tone. Ignoring him, I looked to the front of the class. Nathan snorted. “Welcome back,
Ice Princess
.”

My heart plunged. His words cut deep since for the last two years, I’d been ignoring everyone around me.
Even Mom.
I teared up, and a shaky breath left my lips as I tried to keep my emotions at bay.

The teacher came in and had started to give out the syllabus and the class rules for the semester when Nathan bumped my desk once again. I ignored him.

Since it was the first day of school, the teacher gave us time to talk among ourselves for the rest of the hour. The sound of chatting filled the room, and I couldn’t help but gaze at Anne, who was smiling and talking animatedly with the brunette seated right behind her. At some point, she must have sensed me watching her, because our eyes met, and her cute smile morphed into a scowl as she sent daggers my way. I sank in my seat and turned to the window with teary eyes.
I deserved that.

Most of my classes passed that way. It was the first day back, after all. My class before lunch was English. I ambled into the classroom with a plummeting heart. Lunch was coming, and I didn’t want to sit with Marissa or see anyone in the cafeteria. I slumped into my desk, defeated.
This is going to be harder than I ever thought.

Nathan’s words echoed in my mind.
Welcome back, Ice Princess.

“Are you okay?” Someone asked beside me. A girl with eyes as blue as the sky was watching me, concerned. A new girl. Blonde hair framed her oval face, and thick, black-rimmed glasses outlined her eyes.

I blinked the tears away and gulped down the large lump that seemed to be permanently stuck in my throat. The doctor had told me it was from anxiety and sorrow. “I’m fine.” My voice came out raspy, and I cleared my throat as she watched me incredulously.

“I’m Farah Dent.” Her smile was warm and reassuring. I nodded as she continued, “I just moved here from Colorado.” She trailed off, waiting for me to say something.

I swallowed hard again. “I’m Cassandra Taylor.” I looked to the side. “But you don’t want to hang out with me.”

Somewhat surprised, she raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

Because I’m the worst person ever.
I’m a lousy friend and an awful daughter.
“You’re just better off,” was all I said before turning away since the teacher had started the class.

Mrs. Clearwater made us all write a small essay for the rest of the class, and I was glad she did. The class passed quickly, but my anxiety grew stronger. I even felt sick to my stomach. The bell rang, and I took my time putting my things away. When I walked out of the classroom, the hall was already empty except for Farah, who was waiting for me by the door.