Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) (12 page)

“Don’t worry, you’ll survive.” Mom turned and headed out the door, leaving Beth and me alone.

“Sooo…?” Beth came and plopped down at the end of the sofa.

“So what?” I reached for the remote.

“Do you like the color?”

“The color of what?” I narrowed my eyes at her in annoyance.

“The color of my dress.” She held out the scrap of material.

Glancing down, sounding completely disinterested, I said, “It’s pink.”

A small chuckle escaped her. “Actually, its razzle dazzle pink begonia. It comes with a wide black satin belt with a big bow attached at the end and the skirt is bustled up. My corsage doesn’t have to match exactly. I mean, I don’t think razzle dazzle pink begonia is your typical color, which is why I love it because it’s so unique. Maybe a pale pink with some white baby breath sprinkled in… just no purple. God, purple would be horrible.”

Her mouth was like a machine-gun firing words at warped speed.

I looked at her expressionless. “I have no idea what language you’re speaking.”

“I’m talking about my corsage.” Awkward silence. “Are you excited?”

“About?”

“The dance, silly. God, Noah, you’re so out of it.”

“Beth, maybe you should go to the dance with someone else. I’m not in a very partying mood lately.”

Her eyes doubled in size as her jaw dropped open. “The dance is one day away. I can’t ask anyone new to go. I’ve already shown your mom the color of my dress so she knows what color my corsage should be. Besides, there’s no one else I want to go with.”

Reaching over, Beth placed her hand on my forearm, causing me to jerk it away.

I’m such a prick.

I liked Beth for the most part. She just wasn’t the girl I wanted sitting on my sofa or touching my arm or the one I wanted to go to the dance with. This wasn’t her fault. She deserved to be treated better than I had been doing.

“I’m sorry, Beth. I’ve just got a lot on my mind with school and being on the varsity team, there’s a lot more pressure.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I understand. I was starting to think it was something about me that put people in a horrible mood. I was just over at Amanda’s and she just about bit my head off. I know she’s been really moody lately, but I’ve never seen her like this.”

I perked up. “What was she upset about?”

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say. She’s been kind of like this ever since I told her we were going to the dance together.”

With everything that had happened over the last two days it never crossed my mind how Tweet found out I was going to the dance with Beth.

“What did she say when you told her?”

“She said it was crazy. I thought she was mad because you know… I asked
you
.”

Beth had my full attention. “What’d she say?”

“She said she didn’t like you that way. Then she rambled on about her being the glue and that you and I couldn’t hang out unless she was around. It was so stupid.”

I tried to hide the smile that crept across my face.

Tweet’s been as miserable as I’ve been.

The past couple of days had gotten worse instead of better. Even at my age I knew without a doubt that my feelings for Tweet would never change. I tried to distance myself, but it was like I didn’t have a choice, always finding my way back to her. She was right about being the glue. The glue
that I couldn’t seem to pry myself free from. Tweet would always be my heart and soul no matter what she said or how many times she pushed me away.

The heat from our bodies and heavy breathing swirled around my truck, coating the windows in fog and me in sweat. An intense cramp crawled up my leg and even though the seat was as far back as possible, the gearshift kept digging into my side. Her jean-covered thighs were clamped around my hips like a vise while she bounced up and down, trying to achieve as much friction as possible between her legs. Her long dark hair repeatedly slapped me in the face with every bump and grind. Slipping my hands under her shirt, they traveled up in search of the clasp to her bra. I grabbed and fumbled with it several times, but it kept slipping from my sweaty fingers.

“Oh god Noah. Touch me,” she moaned.

“I would if you’d stay still long enough so I could unhook your bra,” I said, spitting out the ends of her hair that had flown into my mouth.

After that night in Tweet’s room, I was only able to stay away from her for three days. Not long after Beth and I arrived at the dance I saw Tweet run across the gym floor with tears running down her face. I found her tucked away in a dark corner, sitting on the steps outside of the school. I didn’t know why she was hiding or what made her cry. The only thing that mattered was that she needed to be held and I needed to be the one to hold her. We shared another first that night. Swaying back and forth in each other’s arms, I sang “Everything” in her ear while we had our first dance.

For the rest of our sophomore year things gradually got better between us. We started to hang out more. She continued to want our old friendship back while I still wanted to move into new territory. We hovered in this weird holding pattern up until our junior year.

I made the decision to move on with a
fake it till you make it
game plan, so I started going on dates with random girls. None of them turned into anything serious. I tried to act interested, but there always came a point when the girl was talking, that all I heard was
blah
,
blah, blah
. It was impossible getting to know someone when your heart wasn’t in it. Being that there was only one girl who truly held my interest and heart, I abandoned the idea of new and shiny, trading it in for familiar and convenient.

Beth had never made it a secret that she wanted more than a friendship with me. A couple of months into our junior year, we were invited to the same party that John Murphy, one of the senior baseball players, was having at his house. I had spent a week trying to convince Tweet to go but she kept refusing as usual. This party was the first one I had been to where the alcohol flowed freely and openly.

I arrived at John’s in less than a partying mood, having just come from Tweet’s, making one last-ditch attempt to get her to come. I wasn’t a big drinker. Travis and I had tried some of his parents’ stash one weekend when they were out of town and his grandmother was staying at their house. She was out like a light by 8 p.m. and we broke out the beer ten minutes later. We both got buzzed, but I had never been completely drunk until that night at the party. I spent the entire time drinking beer, watching couples make out, and not listening to whoever sat next to me on the sofa. Beth wasn’t drinking so she offered to drive me home.

She walked me onto my front porch and leaned me against the door while searching my pockets for my keys. I was drunk, lonely, and horny. I needed to feel soft hands slide up my chest and snake behind my neck. I needed to feel warm lips pressed against mine. I needed to feel wanted by someone, even if it was the wrong one. With the dim light of the front porch and her dark hair, the girl in front of me could pass for
my
girl. Placing my index finger under her chin, I tilted Beth’s head back. Lowering my lips to hers, my eyes closed, and I imagined touching soft curves, the smell of raspberries, and teal eyes.

It’s been a month since that night when I started using Beth in an attempt to move on with my life. A year had passed since that day in Tweet’s room when she first pushed me away. For an entire year, I’ve been kidding myself that she’d come to her senses and finally give us a chance. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I didn’t want to hurt Beth. She genuinely liked me and wanted to make me happy. But even after a month of countless hookup sessions the only part of me that reacted to her was my body.

Beth reached around to unclasp her bra while at the same time leaned forward trying to kiss me. She teetered back and forth a few times before her lips and teeth crashed into mine. A deep groan flew from the back of my throat. Clutching her hips, I quickly lifted her off of my lap and placed her in the passenger’s seat.

“I got it unhooked now,” she said eagerly.

“I think you bit my lip. Is my lip bleeding?” Hooking up with Beth was clunky at best and a little hazardous.

She craned her neck toward me. “No it’s not bleeding.” Shifting in her seat, she crawled back on top of me.

I grabbed her shoulders, gave her a weak smile, and said, “I gotta get home and study.”

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t have to study a few minutes ago.”

“Well, my mouth is hurting pretty bad since you rammed into it,” I snapped back.

We didn’t say anything while I wiped the windshield clear. I was about to start the car when out the corner of my eye I saw Beth on the verge of crying.

Sitting back, my chest deflated, pushing out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Noah, we need to talk.”

I didn’t respond. I knew what was coming.

“When are we going to tell Amanda?”

“Tell her what?” I wasn’t trying to be mean to Beth, I just didn’t want to tell Tweet what was going on between the two of us.

“That we’re dating,” she said, sounding annoyed.

“We don’t really go out on dates.”

I never considered what Beth and I were doing as dating. I really didn’t know what to call it. What I did know was that I wasn’t ready for Tweet to find out. I never acted any differently around Beth at school. Our time together consisted of parking behind a closed store after hours making out.

“That’s because of you.” She scooted closer to me and ran her fingers through my hair. “She needs to know. I’m tired of sneaking around. Besides, I don’t even know why Amanda finding out is even an issue. I mean, you can date whoever you want and so can she.”

My head jerked in her direction. “Is she seeing someone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Who cares?”

Staring straight out the windshield, my fingers automatically tightened around the steering wheel, causing my knuckles to turn white. My pulse was racing at just the thought of someone touching Tweet.

“Look Beth, we’ve only been at this for a month. There’s no need for her to find out just yet. I’ll be the one to tell her when the time is right. I mean, we’re just messing around.”

“I’m ready to do more than just mess around.”

With scrunched eyebrows, my gaze darted to hers.

“Don’t look so shocked.” She chuckled. “Noah, I want you to be my first.”

My response should have been,
no, you deserve your first time to be with someone who loves you or at least likes you a lot.
But being the pathetic selfish asshole that I was I said, “Okay.”

A week later, I was regretting more than anything all that had happened over the past month. I had the strangest feeling come over me right before my last class. Walking to my truck after school I noticed that Tweet’s car was already gone. We didn’t always ride together because of my baseball practice and her working for the school paper, but we always parked beside each other. She had a free period at the end of the day but rarely went home early. I called and texted her several times with no response.

As I pulled up to Tweet’s house, I saw that her car was the only one in the driveway. Our parents had already headed out to Myrtle Beach for their annual trip. Getting out of my truck, I headed to the back door. Ever since we were kids our back doors were always left unlocked when someone was home because we were in and out so much, going from my house to Tweet’s.

Grabbing the doorknob, I twisted and pushed, but it was locked. I moved the large potted plant sitting right next to the door that hid the extra house key. When I lifted the pot the key was missing. I thought at first that it might have gotten kicked under the doormat by mistake. I looked all around but never found it. For the next fifteen minutes I went back and forth, knocking on the back door and then the front, still with no answer. I even drove to our spot to see if Tweet was there, but the table was empty. For the rest of the afternoon, I alternated between checking my phone and looking out the kitchen window hoping to see her waving at me.