Perfect (33 page)

Wait up. Are you going out?
(Well, duh.)

Were you going to let anyone know?

Obviously not. “Sorry. Just don’t want

to be late. I’m headed out to a movie.”

Alone? What time will you be home?

It’s generally polite to ask first, you know.

“Um, Patrick. Is something going

on?” Not like he very often takes

an interest in what I’m up to. “Because

if everything’s okay, I really need to go.”

He comes closer, studies my eyes

as if he needs to find something there.

Okay, look. I’m just going to ask.

straight out. Have you been in our

medicine cabinet? Your mother is

missing some of her prescription pills.

I could get snotty, but what good

would that do? I won’t even mention

that I know they’re Xanax, and that

he was the one who did the prescribing.

“Not me,” I say, and that’s the whole

truth. “If I were you, I’d talk to Jenna.”

He Is Not The Type

To confront, or want to play parent.

Still, he has more to say, if he can

just figure out how to say it.
I will

definitely be talking to your sister.

I also think it’s time to call a family

meeting. Things seem to be spinning

out of control, in totally the wrong

direction. Prescriptions disappearing,

kids who take off without telling their

parents where they’re going or when

they’ll be back. And then, there’s you.

He tries to stop himself, but

he’s on a roll.
Have you eaten anything

today? I’m worried about you.…

“Oh my God. Not you, too. I eat

plenty! Worry about Jenna. I’m fine!”

Anger sizzles at the base of my skull.

I try for the front door, but Patrick

stops me with a hand on my forearm.

You haven’t answered my question.

Have you had anything to eat today?

I will do an intervention if I must.

Don’t blow it. Don’t blow it. Lower

the blood pressure before you speak.

“I had some oatmeal.” It’s a flat-

out lie, but he seems to believe it.

Wants to believe it.
Okay, then. But

you really should have some protein.

“I will.” Another lie. “And I promise

to eat all my veggies, too. May I go now?”

He smiles.
I guess so. But I meant it about

the family meeting. Over dinner. Tonight.

I Say Fine

And he lets me out the door. I hurry

to my car before he changes his mind.

My hands shake against the steering

wheel, from lingering anger and also

because Patrick happened to be

right. I haven’t eaten anything today.

I reach into the glove box. Grab

a diet protein bar, take two bites. Three.

Half the bar should satisfy my

stomach growl and keep me thinking

straight. I put the rest in my pocket

to nosh on while everyone else is eating

Skittles and sucking on Slurpees.

By the time I reach the theater, the shakes

have stopped too. I park. Buy a ticket.

Go inside to wait for Sean, feeling great.

Unbelievably

In through the door walks Conner,

surrounded by a group of people

I’ve never seen before. He’s with

a kind of cute guy, a rude-looking girl,

a twentysomething woman, and one

who is older than that, all dressed up in

business-type clothes. They head

straight for the bathrooms. Conner, who

hasn’t seen me, waits outside the doors

for the rest of them. My heart tumbles

into my mostly empty stomach. I have

to say something. Like what? That I hate

him for what he did? That I still

love him, and always will? Oh God.

I go over, wanting to touch him, but

afraid if I do he’ll disappear. And out of

my mouth spills, “Hey, Conner.

I heard you tried to die. That right?”

Hello, Kendra.
He turns on one heel

to face me. Stiff as a fresh corpse—

and why did I have to think that?
Guess

I did. Next time I’ll have to
try harder.

I can feel my face turn white.

“Don’t say that! Believe it or not,

a few people care about you.

One or two of us even love you.”

His eyes cloud with… disbelief?

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.

“There’s Sean. Gotta go. Hope to see

you again soon, Conner. Give me a call,

if you want to. I’m a good listener.”

I turn my back as he joins his friends.

Sean

Back Turned

You

don’t have to look at

what you’ve left behind.

And the person who first

turned their back on you

can’t

watch you break down

and cry. Never allow

an enemy to

see

weakness in you.

Go for the throat.

Shoot for the groin.

Don’t let your loss

yesterday

redefine who you are.

Fight the good fight.

Today is your day to win.

Fighting Depression

Is hard when you have no

real reason to fight it. Why

pretend everything is fine

when everything pretty

much sucks? Two weeks

since the blowup with Cara,

you’d think I’d accept it.

Move on. But all I do when

I’m alone is think about

the good times with her.

I’ve tried to talk to her. Tried

to figure out exactly when

everything went to hell. It

wasn’t the night we had sex.

It started before. I can see

that now. But what started

it? The more I try to figure

that out, the more frustrated

I become. I work out, to keep

my frustration in check.

But once I’m done, anger

beaten down by reps upon

reps, I am muscle sore

and heart-emptied. I have

no one to talk to about it.

Okay, I did a fair amount

of screaming on Facebook.

Heat of the moment is all.

What good did it do, except

to make me feel validated

for a little while? One thing

I learned. Cara’s so-called

friends aren’t really friends

at all. The only one who

had nothing awful to say

about her was Kendra. Not

that she exactly stood up

for her, but at least she

didn’t trash her. I’ve got

to respect her for that.

Her Call Surprised Me

But, hey, I was just sitting

here, alone in the vacuum

that is my room. Getting

out for a while sounds

good. Anyway, Kendra

is pretty cute, if a little on

the skinny side. Going to

the movies with her, no

strings attached, might

Band-Aid my injured ego.

And maybe word will get

back to Cara. Wouldn’t

that be fun? She
would

be upset, wouldn’t she?

’Cause if I found out she’s

been seeing some guy behind

my back, I would have to take

matters into my own hands.

And it definitely wouldn’t be

pretty for that guy. Or for her.

I Get To The Theater

A few minutes after two.

Through the big glass

doors, I can see Kendra,

talking to some guy.…