Perfect (32 page)

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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse, #Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance, #Dating & Sex

BOOK: Perfect
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to be. She leaves me breathless.

And freed of the weight of regret.

I leave her searching for breath,
too.
Well, then
. She inhales deeply.
I think I’ll need another snack later
.
This should be an interesting night
.

I Have No Clue

What she means. But I guess I’ll

find out. The party is at a little house

near the UNR campus. The narrow

street is lined on both sides with

cars. We have to park several blocks

away, on a patch of dirt by the rail-

road tracks. As I get out of the car,

I catch my right heel, but manage

to save both it and me. “That was

close. Guess I should have worn

the Uggs.” Dani slides an arm

around my waist, and I press tight

against her.
No way
, she says,
no
Uggs for you. You’re too freaking
sexy in those boots. No worries
.
I’ll keep you upright. For now
.

We start down the time-gnawed

sidewalk, linked hip to hip.

In the shadows, we hit a slick

strip of ice, but Dani is true

to her word.
Okay, those are definitely
not great winter boots
. Her grip
around me tightens.
In fact, I would
rate them abysmal. And totally hot
.

They do make me taller than her,

so the top of her head is nose level.

Shampoo, gel, hair dye, or all three,

the soft, fruity scent of her grows

as we walk, and by the time we reach

our destination, I must smell as if I

belong to her. And I like it. How primal.

Just as Dani starts to knock, the door

opens. Laughter spills out, along
with a quite inebriated girl.
Careful
of those Jell-O shots
, she warns.
They might get you all fucked up
.

And she definitely knows from

experience. She stumbles toward

a leafless hedge, hurls something

thick and red. Dani and I go inside.

I Expect Her to Let Go

Of me. She doesn’t, at least not

right away. Her hold is protective,

possessive. The front room is packed

tightly with people. We work our way

through the human mesh, drawing

more than a few direct stares. Can’t be

because we’re together. I’ve never

seen so many same-sex couples before.

Not all in one place, laughing, downing

drinks, making out in plain view.

Other than the girl-girl, boy-boy thing,

it’s like any party I’ve ever been to.

I wish I could say I feel comfortable.

I put my mouth against Dani’s ear.

“What’s everyone looking at?”

At first, I think she can’t hear me.

She doesn’t answer immediately.
Finally we push our way through
the thick knot of people, into a semi-
quiet corner.
They’re looking at you
.
I know quite a few of these people
.
They’ve never seen me with you
before, or with anyone remotely
like you. We are a topic of interest
.

Sure enough, when I glance

around, I see people checking us

out. Evaluating. “What do you mean,

not even remotely like me?”

Dani waves to a girl across the room.
She is tiny. Cute, in a boyish way.
That’s Bianca, my old girlfriend
.
See what I mean? Nothing like you
.

This is all such new ground.

Every spark of self-confidence

flickers. Did we have to run into

her ex? “Were you in love with her?”

I guess I thought so at the time
.
But love is a fragile thing. Easily
broken. And what does it matter
,
anyway? I want to be with you now
.

She Proves It

With a kiss. Awkward at first,

because I rarely kiss with people

watching me. Yet I can’t stop.

I want this. Want her. Don’t care

who knows. I thread myself

into her arms, invite her tongue

into my mouth. Oh God, it all

feels so right, I don’t want to stop.

I want to go further. Set no limits.

Dive deeper. Explore unknown

territory. Find secret places. Climb

steeper cliffs. Higher and higher.

My heart sunbursts in my chest

and my eyes quiver open. Surely

everyone is staring right now.

But I find only one. “Bianca.”

I didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Dani smiles.
Don’t worry. Better
she knows about us. Now how
’bout we find something to drink?

I’m Not Much Of A Drinker

In fact, I don’t drink at all. But

I don’t need to say so. We start

toward the breakfast bar, where

a few people are filling their cups.

Dani asks what I want. I shrug.

“Surprise me.” She reaches for

a tall bottle of rum, manages

to pour some over ice, when

a voice sharp as snipped tin
slices into us from behind.
Well, hello, Dani. I never knew
you had a thing for femmes
.
Dani turns to face Bianca.
Good
to see you, Bee. You know I’m
not much into stereotypes
.
Guess she is femme. Pretty, too
.

Wait. Stereotype? What? “Don’t

talk about me like I’m not here,

okay?” Anger flares, and as I start

to walk away, Bianca mouths,              
Fake
.

Kendra

Fake

Is that what you are

if you choose to improve

the basic not perfect you?

Add

a cup size or two.

Puff up your lips.

Reshape your nose.

Subtract

an inch or two from

your belly, butt, and thighs.

Tighten your skin until

what’s left

behind is blotch free.

Unlined. Then, quick,

take a picture or two

of you

before it all falls apart

again and you have

to start over.

Two Days

Until my surgery. Can’t wait. Wish

I had to wait much longer. I’m nervous.

Excited. Looking forward to fixing

something wrong with me. Why couldn’t

I just be born with a perfect nose?

One thing for sure. I can’t sit here all

weekend thinking about Monday.

It being the first day of spring break,

there isn’t a lot going on to distract

me. No lessons. No competitions. Nothing.

And anyway, I’m afraid to do anything

too physical. If I got hurt, I’d have to wait

even longer for the rhinoplasty.

But if I sit here at home, there will be

a battle going on, with me at the center—

fridge (which Mom just filled) vs. mirror.

The Mirror Always Wins

But I’m sick and tired of the war.

Doesn’t help when Mom brings home

ice cream sandwiches (“light” ones,

but still…) and (reduced fat, whatever

that actually means) peanut butter.

Really, truly doesn’t help when Jenna pigs

out with one or both right in front

of me. She does it to be spiteful. Likes

watching my mouth water. Which

pisses me off, so then we fight, too.

Not up for any of that today.

There’s a new
Scary Movie
playing

at the Summit. I want to go. But not

alone. Jenna’s got something going on,

and even if she didn’t, she’d want to

yack down candy and fake butter popcorn.

Aubree’s at her grandparents’,

Shantell has been really weird and distant

lately. And anyway, a movie date

should be with a guy, except not someone

who will put the moves on me.

Someone like… I pick up the phone.

“Sean? I was wondering if you had

plans today. No? Well, I want to see

Scary Movie 666.…”
Silence

on the other end. Then a stupid question.

“Of course I’m not setting you up.

Why would I want to do that? Look, no

strings. I just don’t want to go by

myself. Really? Awesome. There’s a two

fifteen matinee. Do you want to meet

in the lobby, say around two? Exceptional.”

In A Way

I’m surprised he said yes. Maybe

he’s sick of moping around. It hasn’t been

all that long, but Sean is used to

having someone on his arm. Wow. We do

have kind of a lot in common, don’t

we? Chill, Kendra. Remember that you

are good on your own. (Lonely.)

Strong. (When people are looking.) In control.

(Hungry. Even though my stomach

has almost forgotten how it feels to hold

food.) Size two. (Fat. Fat. Fat. Just ask

the mirror. It doesn’t know how to lie.)

Perfect. (Come on. Not surgery, not

losing ten necessary pounds, not even

implants can make me that. “Just about

perfect” will have to be good enough.)

Regardless

I dress to impress, in a very short skirt

plus leggings to keep my thighs thawed,

and a too-tight sweater that defines

my need for bigger boobs. I could maybe

go baggy on top, keep ’em guessing.

But that would make me look fat. Can’t

have that. Better to go for skinny, with

a boost from a well-padded push-up bra.

I grab my jacket, start for the door,

only for Patrick to whistle me to a stop.

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