Book Read Free

Perfect You

Page 15

by Elizabeth Scott


  "Hey, I like that," he said. "I am fantabulous. And you know why? I know how to have fun. Now, I know this will be hard for you to understand, but I'll try to explain it to you.

  Fun is--" "Hilarious. I know what fun is, moron. It's just hard to have when I'm either stuck at school or here."

  "Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. So you have a job, big deal. I have a job."

  "Todd, you're twenty-three. You're supposed to."

  He shrugged. "You could do stuff, you know. Talk to people. Go out."

  "I go out."

  "One party doesn't really count, Kate. You should stop moping because you and Anna aren't friends--"

  "We're still friends."

  He gave me a look. "Fine. I just imagined that Anna never calls or comes over anymore."

  "She calls!" Actually, she only called me if I called her and she was on the other line, but still. I glared at Todd.

  "Okay, so you and Anna are talking. But still, you should put yourself out there more. Do stuff, let people know who you are, you know? Because you aren't that bad, really."

  "Wow, thanks."

  He ignored my sarcasm. "So, are you sure you don't want to give me any money?"

  Wordlessly, I opened the cash register and pulled out two rolls of pennies. "Go nuts."

  "Later, Grandma," he said, and walked off. I ignored that, but I couldn't ignore what he'd said. Or that it was basically the same thing Grandma had. And that maybe what they'd said made sense.

  It was a lot to think about, and when Dad finally got back, I said, "I'm going on break,"

  and left. I headed for the food court, but the smell of pizza made me think of Will and I ended up stopping outside it and staring blindly at a store window.

  I had to stop thinking about Will. I'd got what I'd wanted when I'd told him off, when I'd ended things before they could end on me, and had the memory of making out with him on top of that.

  It should have been enough. I should have been happy with that. But I wasn't.

  I was angry.

  As soon as I let myself think that, I realized how true it was. I was angry. Why did Will blow me off the way he had? Why couldn't he have just ignored me? Why did he have to make me think that he was going to ask me out for real?

  Why did he have to make me think he cared?

  He didn't have to do that. In fact, no one held a gun to his head and made him kiss me in the first place. No one forced him to come outside that night at Jennifer's. He was the one who'd asked me if I was going, after all, and now he couldn't be bothered to talk to me? I was the one who had every reason to ignore him! I mean, I'd ended up talking about the WEATHER because of him.

  The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know why he'd done what he had.

  And it wouldn't hurt him to apologize either.

  Plus, in spite of everything I'd just thought and knew, I-- well, I wanted to see him.

  So I went to Sports Shack. Will was there, standing by the shoe department talking to two sales guys around my dad's age. He saw me walk into the store.

  I know that because he looked right at me. And then he turned around and walked off.

  The old guys glanced over at me, and then back at him, grinning. "Will, where you going?" they said, laughter in their voices, but Will just kept walking, heading out of sight.

  The old guys looked at me again.

  "Hey, what did you do to him?" one of them asked.

  I walked over to them. Their name tags proclaimed them Harold and TIM. "I didn't do anything. Yet."

  They both laughed, and I decided I liked them. "Can you get him for me?"

  "This ought to be good," Tim said, grinning, and Harold nodded before yelling, "Hey, Will, the girl you ran away from is out here waiting for you!"

  We stood there for a moment, and then Tim shrugged and said, "Guess he's not coming."

  That was going to get him? Please. "Why don't you really go find him? And when you do, tell him he can pretend my sister isn't pregnant all he wants, but when the baby comes and has his webbed toes we won't even need a paternity test."

  Tim and Harold stared at me, and I mean really stared. Mouths open, eyes bulging, the works.

  "Uh," Harold said, and then I heard laughter coming from the back of the shoe department, near a door that clearly led into a stockroom. Will's laughter. I hadn't heard it in a while, and it was nice to hear him laugh. To know I could still make him laugh. No! I was here to be tough! To get answers and an apology!

  "Excuse me," I said to Harold and Tim, and headed for the stockroom. I thought they might say something else, but when I looked back they were both off talking to other salespeople, their expressions eerily close to the ones the Jennifers wore when they were sharing particularly good gossip.

  Will stopped laughing when I came into the stockroom, though a smile still quirked the edges of his mouth. "Didn't know you had a sister."

  "Yeah, well, it's hard for her to get out, what with the baby coming and everything."

  "Right. So did Harold and Tim run off to tell everyone?"

  "I think so. They looked like the Jennifers do whenever they've heard something good."

  He laughed. "I hadn't thought about that but they do, don't they?" He started to take a step toward me, then stopped. "What are you doing here, Kate? Telling me off at school wasn't enough? You want to do it again over the store intercom or something?"

  "I probably should," I said, and he sighed, looking hurt.

  "Don't do that," I said, because I'd expected him to look angry, not upset. "Don't act like any of this bothers you. You're the one who came after me at Jennifer's party and then acted so strange at school that you had to 'ask me out' so people wouldn't think you're a total jackass."

  "Wait, did you just air quote me?"

  "I guess I should have spoken slower," I muttered. "Figures that gestures would distract you."

  "No, hold on," he said. "What exactly does 'ask me out' mean?" "You know what it means," I said. "And I want to know why you couldn't just leave me alone."

  "Look, I'm sorry that my humiliation was hard on you, but message received! You don't want to go out. I get it."

  "Your humiliation? You're the one who pretended to ask me out!"

  "Who said I was pretending?"

  "Oh, please. It was obvious."

  "I'm sorry I didn't ask you out in a more Kate-approved manner, but I did mean it."

  "Sure you did."

  "I meant it, Kate," he said and looked at me like he did right before he kissed me, a look I'd thought meant something. A look I'd thought meant that maybe he really liked me.

  "Fine," I said, furious all over again. Why did he have to do this to me? Why did he have to make me think he cared? "How's this? 'I, like, totally want to go out with you!' Is that a proper response, or should I start screaming like I've won the lottery too?"

  "Don't bother," he said through clenched teeth, the look he'd been wearing before replaced by one of extreme frustration. "I don't want to go out with you when it's obvious you don't want to go out with me."

  "I knew it," I said, and to my horror, felt a sharp stinging in my throat and behind my eyes. "I just. . . never mind. This was stupid."

  He stared at me, and now he looked surprised and sort of worried, like he'd just realized something. "I'm going to come by your house around seven on Saturday," he said. "If you want to go out with me, you just have to be there. Okay?" "You don't know where I live."

  "How do you know?" he said, and then leaned over and kissed me.

  I went back to work with my ears ringing from Harold and Tim's shock--and then snickers--when they found me and Will in the stockroom. And the rest of me was tingling from all the kissing.

  And from the fact that I had a date. Not that it was a big deal or anything. It was just a date. With Will.

  I had a date with Will!

  Chapter twenty-nine

  I was really excited about my date for about half an hour, and then I start
ed freaking out. But between school and work and weirdness at home, I had almost no time to worry.

  Almost meant I still had some time, though, and it turned out there was a lot to worry about. What was I supposed to wear? Was anything I owned okay for a date? And what about my hair? Should I try and do something with it, like wear it up? But what if doing that made my ears look big or my face look lopsided?

  What if my face was lopsided?

  And, most importantly what did "date" actually mean? Was it a real date? Or was it a pity thing, to make up for how he'd treated me at school?

  I didn't want a pity date, but I was pretty sure this wasn't one even though I was also sure he hadn't really meant it when he'd first asked me out at school. But when he'd asked me out again, no one had seen us or made him feel like he had to do it, so that made it real. Although it had only happened after I'd basically cornered him at work.

  The truth was, I didn't know what to think. So I avoided him.

  I knew it was the worst kind of stupid, but I couldn't help myself. Things at home were really weird, with Mom and Dad having lots of closed-door conversations in the dining room, and Todd had started to say things like, "We had to let the new guy go today because he wasn't a team player." I wanted something in my life to not be ending or weird or both. I wanted to pretend my life was normal, that I was normal.

  Plus I really wanted to go out with Will.

  So when I was at work, I avoided leaving our booth, and at school I became a great student, the kind who was studying when she walked into class, ignored conversations around her to focus on the teacher, and even stayed after to ask questions.

  Or at least I pretended to become a great student, and faked all those things.

  Naturally, since this was me, it didn't work, and on Friday night, Will came by the booth.

  Dad was, as usual lately, gone, off trying to convince people shopping in the rest of the mall that they really wanted to buy vitamins. We now had so many unsold boxes that there was nowhere to sit behind the display case, and we sat in chairs by the register all the time. "Hey," Will said. "Haven't seen you around much."

  "It's been busy," I said, and then added, "at home and stuff, you know?" since it was obvious there wasn't a swarm of customers flocking around the booth.

  "Sure," he said, and tapped his fingers against the display case. Today his name tag said NO I IN TEM.

  "Nice name tag," I said, desperate to change the subject to something--anything--that wasn't remotely date-related.

  "We got the 'no I in team' speech yesterday," he said, grinning at me. "It was very motivating. There was even a video. So today Hank is 'no i in sale' and Tim is 'no i in shoe.'"

  "Hey Kate," Dad bellowed, appearing at the end of the corridor that led out into the main part of the mall, like he somehow knew that the universe wanted me to be even more uncomfortable and embarrassed. "Did we get more of the Garlic Gels in yet? I know we're down to our last bottle!"

  I shook my head at him, and felt my face turn red as Will glanced at all the bottles of Garlic Gels stacked on top of the display case.

  "Sales tactic," I said. To my surprise, he didn't laugh, just said, "We do something like that when we have shoes we can't sell. Signs that say 'Only a few pairs left!' and stuff."

  "Oh," I said, surprised he was being so cool about my father, which meant that Dad decided to come back right then and embarrass me more.

  "I think they were really interested," Dad said as he walked into the booth, completely wrapped up in his Perfect You world like always. "Maybe I should take some bottles with me, not samples, and try to sell them that way. I know mall management doesn't like that but--oh." He paused, finally noticing Will. "Hi there, fellow mall employee! Work at Sports Shack, right?"

  Will nodded.

  "Thought so," Dad said, like noticing Will's uniform was a major accomplishment. "You look familiar."

  "I've been here before," Will said, and held out his hand. "Will Miller."

  Dad shook it, his face lighting up. "Miller? Is your father Dan Miller? Because if he is, I'd love to talk to him about doing a promotion with his Ford dealership because--"

  "My father's a fisherman."

  "Really?" Dad said. "I didn't know there were fisherman in Jackson. I mean, there's the lake, but it's so small and I hear that pollution--"

  "He lives in Alaska."

  "Oh, that makes more sense," Dad said. "Lots of fish there. In fact, I once met a guy who worked in a cannery in Alaska and he told me that--"

  "Dad," I said, cutting him off, "Will has to get back to work."

  "I do?" Will said, and then looked at me. "Oh, right. I do. Mr. Brown, would it be okay if Kate walked back to Sports Shack with me?"

  "Sure," Dad said. "In fact, I've been trying to get her out of here lately, but she keeps insisting that she can't take a break, which I think isn't healthy, but--"

  "Dad," I said again. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? Because if it was, I was going to. "All right, I'll be quiet," Dad said to me, and then told Will, "Nice name tag, by the way.

  Very creative."

  "Thanks," Will said.

  "Okay, we're going now," I said, glaring at Dad. Days of pretending I cared about school and sitting in the stupid booth for nothing, and now I had a new worry. What if, after everything that had just happened, Will decided to call the date off?

  I looked over at him. He was staring straight ahead, not looking at me. Great. He was definitely going to tell me Saturday night was off.

  I figured it would be best to treat the situation like a bandage and just rip it off. Get it over with. End it before I spent more time thinking about how much I wanted to go out with him.

  "Look, about Saturday--" I said.

  "That's why you're avoiding me, right?"

  "What do you mean?" I hadn't expected him to notice that.

  "Well, I haven't seen you since I asked you out, so . . ."

  "I've been at school," I said, and when Will gave me a strange look, added, "Well, I have been. And then there's work. Plus, everything at home has been crazy. Like, seriously crazy. I mean, you met my father. Now imagine a whole house filled with people like that."

  "Your dad seems okay to me. And I bet he would never make you watch a video on teamwork."

  "No, just vitamin infomercials."

  Will grinned at me. "I had to sit through a thirty minute presentation on how to measure feet."

  "I have a carrot hat."

  "Really?"

  I nodded. He cleared his throat. "I . . . look, are you avoiding me? I mean, if you don't want to go out with me--"

  "I want to go out with you," I said and it was true, but wow, did the truth sound like I really liked him. And I did like him. I liked him a lot. But I didn't want to like him that much. I was afraid to.

  Plus maybe I should have let him finish his sentence. What if he was going to say, "If you don't want to go out with me, that's fine with me because I don't want to go out with you"?

  "Hey," Will said, touching my arm. "I. . . me too." He looked toward the mall exit, and then back at me. "Do you want to--?"

  I knew what he was asking. He wanted to go make out with me. My heart started hammering in my chest. He wanted to kiss me AND go out with me! Why had I been avoiding him again?

  "Kate!" Dad yelled. I looked back and saw him frantically waving his arms at me. Great.

  He talked about me not taking breaks and now . . I sighed and looked back at Will. His face was red. I had no idea why, but it was cute.

  "I guess I'd better go," I said, and started to walk away before Dad decided to yell more-

  -or worse, come after me.

  Will grabbed my hand.

  "See you tomorrow?" he said, and the grin he gave me when I said, "Okay," sent me floating back to the booth.

  "What's wrong?" I asked Dad when I got there. He'd stopped waving his arms around, but was watching me pretty intently.

  "Was Will the person from school you ran
into the day you sold those Chocolate Chews?" "What?" Since when had Dad developed a memory?

  "You know, the day you sold Perfect You's specially formulated kids' vitamins, the ones with the song. 'Choose Perfect You Chocolate Chews--'"

  "Dad, don't sing. And yeah, I saw Will that day."

  "You started organizing the storage space around then, right?"

  "I think so."

  He gave me a look. "Are you two an item?"

  Parents! "An item? Dad, ew."

  "Are you?"

  "We're going out tomorrow night. It's not a big deal." I mean, it was, but I clearly couldn't tell Dad that.

  "You're my daughter. Everything you do is a big deal. And no more going off and making out with boys when you're supposed to be working, okay?"

  "Dad!"

  He grinned at me. "Not as dumb as I look, am I? Now, have you seen my pen?"

  I grinned back at him. "It's behind your ear, Einstein."

  Chapter Thirty

  When Dad and I got home, Mom told him it looked like someone was going to make an offer for the house.

  "Now we really have to think about where we're going to live," she said, and at first I thought she was angry because her voice was so sharp it almost hurt to hear it. But then, when Dad said, "Sharon, honey, don't worry so much. Anyone can get an apartment," and she nodded, hands shaking, I saw that she wasn't mad. She was scared.

  I couldn't understand why Dad didn't see it, but as he and I sat eating chicken salad sandwiches, and he tried--and failed-- to get her to smile, I realized he did see it. He knew she was frightened, but he couldn't stop pretending everything was fine.

  And Mom--she didn't say anything to him. She just sat

  there, arms crossed, fingertips trembling, silent. Waiting for Dad to say something that he never would--and that I didn't think he could.

  I left the kitchen then, not wanting to see any more. Grandma was in the living room, draping bracelets against a rainbow of shirts piled on her lap.

  "Are you working tomorrow, darling?" she asked. I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or Todd, but Todd emerged from his blankets and said, "Of course I am. All I do is work.

 

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