Waiting for Perfect (12 page)

“That’s it?” she
asks when she sees my cup.

I look at mine, and
then I look at hers, overflowing with candy and sprinkles and brownie
bits.
 
“Yeah.
 
What?”

She shrugs and sets
her yogurt cup down on the scale.
 
“Hi, Jen.”

Behind the counter,
Jen rings up the bowl on the register.
 
“Hi, Candace.
 
Just this
one?
 
Or are you getting both of
those?”
 
She motions to my cup.

Before I can object
to her paying, Candace says, “Oh, no.
 
Just mine.
 
He can get his
own.”
 
She looks back at me with an
eyebrow raised.
 
“Right?”

I nod quickly.
 
“Yes.
 
I’ll get my own, thanks.”
 
Candace scares me a little, and I make a mental note never
to mess with her.

We go sit at a
table by the window.
 
I’m quiet,
like usual, and still kind of perplexed about how I came to be at the frozen
yogurt shop with Candace Schratter.
 
This is not how I imagined my day going.
 
I want to ask about Kendra.
 
I’m sure Candace knows what’s going on with her.
 
But I don’t want to sound totally
obsessed, so I don’t say anything.

I think she reads
my mind, though, because a second later, she says, “So… Kendra is okay.” She
slides the pink, plastic spoon between her lips and licks it clean.
 
“I thought you’d want to know.
 
I went to the doctor with her.
 
Ryan didn’t… you know…
 
well, nothing happened.
 
She’s okay.”

Candace couldn’t
possibly know what it means to me to hear that.
 
A part of me wants to scoop her up in a bear hug right now
and kiss her smack on the lips.
 

She must see the
smile spread across my face because she adds, “I knew you’d want to know.”

I exhale my relief,
and it feels like I’ve been holding my breath for two weeks.
 
I start to stutter but manage to say,
“Of course I wanted to know.
 
Holy
hell!
 
Do you know what I’ve been
going through these last two weeks not knowing?
 
I thought Ryan… well, I didn’t know.
 
I didn’t want to think that he could
have… but now that I know he didn’t…”

Candace sets her
spoon in her bowl and holds her hand up to stop me.
 
She blinks slowly and patiently waits for me to end my
nonsensical rambling.
 
When I
finally cease sounding like an idiot, she says, “It’s okay, Nick.
 
I think she’s going to be okay.
 
I took her to a counselor.
 
I don’t think she’s going to press
charges, but I’m not sure yet.
 
I
think she just wants to forget that night ever happened.”

My grin drops as
her words sink in.
 
My eyebrows
pull together, and I know by the way Candace is looking at me that I must look
pissed.
 
“Why wouldn’t she press
charges?
 
Ryan needs to pay for
what he did.”

She sighs like
she’s dealing with a child.
 
“It’s
not that easy, Nick.
 
Believe me,
it’s much easier for her to just walk away from this.”

I think about that
for a moment.
 
I think of what
exactly it would mean for Kendra to press charges against Ryan.
 
I think of the way she’s already being
treated at school and how much worse it would be for her if she sends the guy
to jail.
 
I guess I can understand
what Candace is saying.
 
Except
it’s not Kendra’s fault.
 
Ryan
deserves to be in jail.
 
Won’t
people be able to see that?

I take another bite
of my yogurt.
 
“I’ve wanted to talk
to her, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.
 
That’s not the kind of thing to open a conversation with,
you know?”

“Yeah, I know.
 
That’s kind of why I wanted to tell
you.
 
You’ve been busy banging
heads with Ryan Morgan, but you’re putting your own ass on the line.
 
You’ve put him in the hospital twice,
Nick.
 
You do know his dad is some
hotshot prosecuting attorney, right?”

Shit.
 
“No.
 
I didn’t know that.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.
 
If the guy chooses to press charges for
assault, I’ll go to jail – in true Veneto style, no less.
 
I take my last bite of
chocolate-covered gummy worm, swallowing hard.
 
I have been so caught up in protecting Kendra and punishing
Morgan that I’ve lacked all sense of self-preservation.
 
This is the first time I’ve thought
about the fact that I could be in some serious trouble over this.
 
I can’t think about it right now.
 
I need to focus on Kendra and make sure
she’s going to be okay.

Candace is barely
halfway done with her yogurt, so we sit there another ten minutes so she can
finish.

When we’re ready to
leave, she asks, “So what’s going on with you and your cousin?
 
Did you guys get in a fight or
something?
 
It’s none of my
business, but he always seems to have your back.”

I shrug.
 
“No.
 
We didn’t get in a fight.”
 
I hold the door open for her to exit, and we walk slowly
back to her Jetta.
 
“I don’t
know.
 
He doesn’t really take
anything too seriously.
 
He acts
like his life is so easy.
 
It kind
of pisses me off sometimes.”
 
I
don’t really know what I’m saying or why I decide to tell Candace about any of
my personal business.
 
I don’t even
know why I’ve been pissed at Sebastian lately.
 
I shouldn’t be.
 
He’s been nothing but helpful.

Candace nods and
climbs into the front seat.
 
I hop
in the car too, dodging empty water bottles at my feet.
 
Does this girl ever clean her car?
 
When we’re pulling onto the street, she
smiles at me.
 
“I think in life you
get back whatever you put out into the universe.
 
People with a bad attitude get bad luck.
 
Everything’s harder for them.”

I stare ahead,
wondering if that’s what she thinks of me, and if I should be insulted.
 
Before I can think about it too long,
she adds, “If Sebastian’s life is so easy, then maybe he’s just an easy person.”
 
She lets out a chuckle and slaps her
thigh.
 
“I don’t know, Nick, is
Sebastian
easy
?
 
He has been hanging out with Emma and
Megan, the two
easiest
girls at our
school!”

She finds her
comments hilarious, and she’s laughing so hard that I’m seriously worried she’s
going to crash the car.
 
But in
spite of myself, I start laughing too, and it feels so good to laugh.
 
It’s been a while.

SEBASTIAN

It’s Friday night,
and I’m at the football game.
 
I
have flashbacks of our last home game when we handed San Clemente’s asses to
them.
 
It was all good until that
little shit Morgan got all touchy-feely with Kendra, and Nick had to go and
nearly kill him.

Megan is sitting
next to me on the bleachers.
 
During history class today, she convinced me to come with her to the
game.
 
Well, not exactly.
 
I told her I wouldn’t pick her up, but
that I’d meet her here.
 
So here we
are.

She’s dressed like
she’s going to a nightclub.
 
Even
though it’s still ninety in the day, the nights are cooling down now, and I
wonder how she’s not freezing in that tiny lace top and cutoff shorts.
 
She looks awesome, like usual, but as
soon as she opens her mouth, I remember why I’m not into her.
 
It’s a mystery to me why she and Emma
aren’t best friends.
 
They’re
exactly the same – beautiful, flirty, and love to be the center of
attention, the one in the spotlight.
 
Ah, I think I just answered my own question.

The big “T”
representing our school name is lit up on the hill overlooking the field.
 
I’m still amazed at this school’s
location.
 
It’s settled in a valley
right off the street.
 
From the
football field, I can see miles of green, rolling hills in the distance.
 
There are no other buildings in sight,
just grass and trees.
 
Our schools
were nothing like this in San Antonio.
 
It’s pretty awesome.

We’re winning by a
field goal at the end of the fourth quarter.
 
El Toro’s team is coming pretty strong down the field, and
with only two minutes left, it’s entirely possible that we’ll lose this game.
 
We’re sitting with the rest of the
student population, crammed in the bleachers like sardines.
 
The girl in front of me has her face
painted red and blue in our school colors and keeps jumping up and down.
 
I think she’ll actually cry if we don’t
win.

Megan has her arm
entwined in mine.
 
She inches
closer to me on the bench, and I can’t tell if she is getting cold or if she
just wants to rub herself against me.
 
Either way, I’m cool with it.
 
This girl is gorgeous.
 
The
smug grin on her face tells me she thinks she’s getting in my pants
tonight.
 
Yeah, not happening,
babe.
 
I’d like a little more of a
challenge.

“So, Sebastian,”
Megan yells over the roar of screaming teenagers.
 
“A bunch of us are going to eat at Corky’s after the
game.
 
Come with me?
 
You can buy me a salad.”

Oh goodie.
 
Just what I want to do on a Friday
night is watch Megan eat a salad.
 
Aren’t people supposed to go out for ice cream or chocolate shakes or
something anyway?
 
Who the hell
goes out after a football game for a salad?
 
Frickin’ Orange County chicks, that’s who.

I am hungry though,
and for a second I imagine tasting the BBQ ribs and cornbread from San
Antonio.
 
Then I remember the
reason I left my hometown, and I try to squash that whole line of thinking
immediately.
 
I don’t need to be
worrying about my dad right now.

The crowd erupts in
applause, and I see that our team has intercepted the ball and is running down
the field to score a touchdown.
 
The opposing team isn’t fast enough, and all their efforts are wasted as
our defensive end crosses the goal line.
 
That pretty much clenches our win, and the crowd knows it.
 
Everyone is high-fiving and cheering,
and the girl ahead of me with the two-toned face is kissing some guy wearing a
red cape over his shirtless chest.

I agree to go to
Corky’s with Megan, and I even let her ride in my Mustang.
 
I worry about giving her the wrong
impression, but a small part of me yearns to reject her publicly and bring her
ego down a notch.
 
Yeah, I know
that’s messed up, but I never claimed to be perfect.

When we get there,
the diner’s parking lot is swarming with high school kids.
 
This is the obvious post-game
hangout.
 
One of my friends yells,
“Hey, Veneto!” as I exit the Mustang.
 
I see him ogle Megan as she climbs out from the passenger side.
 
I give him a nod and slide up alongside
Megan as we enter the diner together.

Every table is
full, and there are kids waiting by the hostess counter for a seat.
 
Megan sees some of her friends and
grabs me by the wrist to lead me over to their table.
 
Just as Megan starts with introductions, my cell phone
rings.

I take it out of my
pocket and see Nick’s face on the screen.
 
“Excuse me,” I say to the three girls at the table as I answer the call.

“What’s up,
cousin?” I yell over the crowd.

I can barely make
out some mumbling.
 
I can’t hear a
damn thing with all these people yelling over each other.
 
“Hold on, let me go outside.”
 
I rush through the crowd to get
outdoors.
 
Once I’m in the parking
lot, I say, “Okay, repeat everything you just said.
 
I didn’t hear any of it.”

His voice is
frantic.
 
“Shit, Sebastian.
 
I need you to come home now!
 
Something happened.”

I panic, thinking
immediately of Aunt Maria.
 
Maybe
she was in a car accident or something.
 
“What?
 
What happened, Nick?”

God, please let Aunt Maria be okay.
 
I can’t lose anyone else.

“Just please come
home.
 
I need to talk to you.
 
I’m freaking out.”

I’ve never heard
him like this before, and it’s starting to freak me out too.
 
“Okay, dude.
 
Chill out.
 
Just
tell me what happened.
 
Is Aunt
Maria okay?”

He pauses for a
moment, and then says, “Yeah, mom is fine.
 
She’s at work.
 
Thank God she’s not here!
 
Someone just came to the door to serve me papers.
 
It’s Morgan.
 
He’s suing me!
 
His lawyer or some shit just dropped off a letter to me.
 
It says I have to appear in court in
six weeks.
 
Dude, I’m freaking
out.
 
Mom’s going to shit herself!”

I’m already walking
to my car and pulling my key out of my pocket.
 
“Alright, calm down.
 
We’ll figure this out.
 
It’s
going to be fine.”
 
I speak slowly,
and I’m not sure if I’m trying to calm him down or trying to keep my own head
straight.
 
“I’m just leaving
Corky’s.
 
I’ll be home in five
minutes.”

“Thanks, man,” he
says before he hangs up.

As I’m pulling out
of the parking lot, I remember I drove Megan here.
 
Whatever.
 
Her
friends will give her a ride back to her car.
 
I guess ditching her at Corky’s will serve as the ego-killer
I had been hoping for.
 
She’ll
probably be pissed.
 
Again,
whatever.

It’s a quick
five-minute drive to get back to the house.
 
The whole way, I’m thinking about my dad.
 
This situation seems way too familiar,
and I have to remind myself that Nick’s just a kid.
 
He won’t go down the same way my dad did.

When I open the
door, Nick’s standing there, clutching a yellow envelope.
 
He doesn’t say a word.
 
He just hands the envelope over to
me.
 
I take it from him and open
the little flap to pull out the papers inside.
 
It only takes me a second to figure out what I’m reading.
 
Jack
Morgan, Esq. v Nicolás Veneto.
 
Lawsuit.
 
Shit.
 

“Who’s Jack
Morgan?
 
Ryan’s dad?” I ask,
walking into the kitchen and dropping my key on the counter.

Nick nods.
 
“I guess.
 
Apparently Ryan’s dad is an attorney – a good one.”

“How convenient,” I
say flatly.
 
I continue to read the
documents, which outline that Nick is being sued for all medical expenses in
addition to a ridiculous amount for pain and suffering.
 
The son of a bitch deserved all that
pain and suffering.
 
The thought of
Nick having to pay for it makes me livid.

I slam the papers
onto the counter.
 
“Shit, Nick!”

“I know!
 
What the hell am I going to do?
 
Mom’s going to murder me.
 
We can’t pay for this!
 
She’s already working two jobs just to
pay the bills.
 
Even if I got a
job, it would be for minimum wage.
 
Do you have any idea how long it will take to pay off Morgan on minimum
wage?”
 
He’s yelling now, waving
his arms in the air.

I put a hand on
each of his shoulders.
 
“Calm
down.
 
Panicking is not going to
help.”

He shakes away from
my grip and brings his hands up to massage his forehead.
 
Pacing around the kitchen, he takes
several deep breaths before saying, “Well, I can’t tell mom.
 
I’m not going to tell her until I
figure something out.
 
She’ll
freak.
 
After what happened with
your dad – and that was only four months ago…” He stops to look at
me.
 
He knows I don’t like talking
about what happened in San Antonio.
 
“Sorry, dude.
 
It’s just…Shit!
 
This is crazy!”

I pull out one of
the bar stools at the counter and take a seat, looking over the papers
again.
 
“We’re going to have to
tell your mom.
 
We don’t know how
to handle something like this.
 
You’ll need a lawyer.”

He tears the
documents away from me. “There’s got to be something we can do.
 
Think, Sebastian.”

What the hell does
he think I can do about this?
 
“Think about what?” I say.
 
“I’m
no lawyer.”

Nick parks himself
on the stool next to me, and we sit in silence while mulling things over.

The kind of money
Morgan is demanding is ludicrous.
 
There’s no way we could pay it.
 
I remember walking up the stairs that night at the party and seeing Nick
covered in blood.
 
Then in the
parking lot that day after school, we all got into it pretty good.
 
Why wasn’t he suing me or anyone
else?
 
Why just Nick?
 
And what makes him think he can even
sue Nick?
 
It was Ryan who drugged
Kendra, who nearly raped her.
 
Nick
was just defending her.
 
It was
protection.
 
This wasn’t Nick’s
fault.

“We need to talk to
a lawyer,” I say, breaking the silence.

“No shit, asshole,
or else I’m screwed.”
 
He’s resting
his face in his hands, his elbows on the counter.

“This isn’t your
fault, Nick.
 
You were protecting Kendra.
 
There were plenty of witnesses.
 
You’ve got a good case.”

Nick thinks about
that for a minute.
 
He brings his
head out of his hands, and his eyes are wide like he just received the answer
he was looking for.
 
“Kendra!
 
If Kendra presses charges against Ryan,
this whole thing will go away.
 
If
the cops know what he did, Ryan will be thrown in juvie.
 
There’s no way a judge would pursue
this lawsuit if Ryan was at fault to begin with.”
 
He stands up suddenly from his stool, almost knocking it
over in the process.
 
“I’ve got to
talk to Kendra!”

I rise from my seat
slowly.
 
“Whoa, simmer down,
Turbo.
 
Kendra’s not going to give
a shit about your legal issues.
 
She needs to
want
to press
charges against Ryan.
 
You can’t
make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.”