F*ck Perfect (MindF*ck Book 2)

by Danyell Wallace

  Bryce swipes at his bottom lip with his thumb then flicks his cigarette to the ground before walking toward the side entrance of the garage that leads up to the apartment. He walks inside, leaving the door wide open for me. The hollowness that’s kept me company for the last two weeks now burns and spreads like a wildfire inside of me. No “I’ve missed you, Ava?” God, he probably thinks that I’ve avoided him.

  “What is this?” My father turns his computer monitor so that I can see it.

  My legs feel like they’re about to give out on me, and my breakfast threatens to erupt on my father’s home office carpet.

  On the screen are Bryce and me in the laundry room. Our moans and groans echo from the speakers.

  “Never in a million years,” my dad’s voice trembles against the walls, “did I expect to see my daughter act in such a way. God, Ava, what were you thinking?”

  I shriek when he pushes the computer monitor off of his desk and it crashes to the floor.

  “Answer me!” he shouts.

  I look away from the broken monitor on the floor and up to my dad. If his skin wasn’t dark, I’d be looking at a dark, red-faced man right now.

  He’s so disappointed in me. My heart sinks. I never want to disappoint him.

  “Dad—“

  “We’ve raised you better than this,” he cuts me off. “Give me your phone and the keys to your car.”

  “No.” I swipe angrily at my tears. “I’m eighteen. You can’t—“

  “Stop right there, young lady. Don’t forget who’s paying your cellphone bill and your car not. Until you get a job and move out of my house, you’ll do as I say, and that includes not seeing that young man again.”

  Days passed after the fallout with my parents. I hardly left my room unless I was hungry or needed a change of scenery. Then, of course, I had to plaster on my good girl appearance and show up for church like the perfect, obedient pastor's daughter. Then, miraculously my keys and phone reappeared this evening. I’d missed text messages from Hunter, Morgan, Kennedy, and Bryce. I quickly responded to Bryce’s text asking me to see him tonight. I showered, threw on a dress, and quickly did my makeup.

  My car door swings open, startling me. Bryce drops down to a squatting position as we come face to face. My eyes connect with his tired, red ones with dark bags beneath them. Unkempt hair and stubble along his jawline would be sexy if he didn’t look so defeated. I inhale, catching a whiff of liquor mixed with tobacco on his clothes. I wonder if he can see the caked-on makeup that I used to cover up my pale skin and dark circles due to lack of sleep and crying over him?”

  I turn in my seat and place my legs outside of the car then I grab Bryce's face and tug him closer. “I missed you.” I finally say the words that I’ve been wanting to say for two weeks now.

  He tilts his head back, and his eyes scan over my face. I lower my head and place a gentle kiss against his lips that seems to bring my body back to life. I slide my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, but he pulls away before it can grow deeper. I frown. “What’s wrong?”

  Bryce unravels my hands from around his neck and stands then helps me out of the car. “We should probably get inside,” he says avoiding eye contact.

  He shuts my car door then leads me inside the garage and up the narrow stairs to the apartment. Once inside, he lets go of my hand, leaving me bereft.

  “Thank you for coming.” Bryce walks over to the couch covered with a rumpled sheet and pillow then plops down on the arm of it and reaches for the bottle of cheap whiskey on the side table. “I didn’t think you’d agree to see me.”

  I remain standing several feet away from him. The tone in his voice gives me pause. Any thoughts I had of us kissing and making up, getting him help for his chaotic life, and repairing our broken relationship quickly fade into nothingness.

  Bryce brings the liquor to his lips and takes a swig, not flinching or scrunching his face once at the awful taste. “Why are you still standing way over there?”

  I take several steps closer until I’m standing between his outstretched legs.

  He takes a few more swigs from the bottle. I reach up to grab the bottle, but he flinches away. “Don’t,” he says then allows his eyes to rake over me. “You look amazing.” He grips my dress, pulls me forward, and smashes his mouth over mine. For some odd reason, the whiskey tastes sweet on his lips and tongue. I push against his chest when his kiss becomes too rough. I turn my head, wrenching my mouth away from his then I concentrate on the same dead plant that I saw the first time Bryce showed me this place, drying out with pieces of its brown dead leaves lying near the pot. Forgotten.

  “I love you, Ava,” Bryce says harshly against my ear.

  By the way Bryce’s behavior has changed in the little time that I’ve been here, I feel dizzy as if I’m in my own episode of the Twilight Zone with the spinning black and white spirals. His lips are all over me—my lips, cheeks, chin, neck, and between my breasts. He pulls roughly on the top of my dress and the lace bralette beneath it.

  “Bryce, stop.” A strangled sigh leaves my lips when his mouth clamps down on my right nipple. He sucks hard, then pulls on it before he releases it. He flicks and swirls his tongue along my erect nub. “Don’t you think we should talk first?”

  His lips hover over my breasts. “Let’s fuck then we’ll talk. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside of you.”

  “Bryce…” I untangle myself from him and take several steps back then straighten my clothes back into place. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” he says nonchalantly then comes to his feet. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in days, and you have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong with me?”

  “I’m sorry that I needed to process the fact that you had an affair with your teacher. It took me days later to respond to your texts because there’s a reason for that.”

  “Stop with all your fuckin’ excuses.”

  “What?!”

  “You’re never going to be able to see past my fuck-ups are you?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Instead, you ran off when you should’ve been there with me to talk it out.” His eyes glaze with angry tears. “It was when I needed you the most. Damn, Ava, I almost lost my mom.” His eyes narrow my way.

  “Bryce, please.” I take a step toward him.

  “No. I’m done.”

  “Wait, what do you mean you’re done?” Tears stream down my face.

  Bryce looks away from me.

  I grab his face and force him to look at me again. “Answer me.” I smooth my hands down his face.

  A door shuts downstairs then the sound of footsteps creeps up the stairs. Bryce averts his attention to the door.

  “Bry—“

  The familiar voice comes to a halt. Bryce’s jaw muscles clench tight beneath my hands.

  “I didn’t know you had company. I can wait downstairs,” Hope says from behind me.

  “No, stay,” Bryce says with no ounce of remorse. “Ava is leaving.”

  I let my hands fall away from his face. “Why is she here?”

  Bryce's eyes drop to my lips. He won’t look me in the eyes. “She’s been here for me when you weren’t,” he grits out in a way that I don’t believe.

  “You’re lying.”

  “Am I?” He turns and looks at the couch, and I do the same. Mingled with the rumpled sheets is an opened condom wrapper.

  My body begins to sway, and I immediately reach for something to steady myself.

  “Shit, Ava?” Bryce sounds alarmed. His strong arms envelop me, and I gravitate toward his warmth, my limp body using his as support. “Have a seat.” Bryce’s lips move against my ear as he leads me over to the couch.

  “No, no, no,” I repeat while beating my fists against his chest. He loosens his hold on me, and I slide down his body to the floor, scooting away from him. “Stay away from me.” I keep scooting across the floor until my back hits the wall.
I fix my gaze on Bryce, standing a step or two away from me. “I've been going crazy concerned about your mom’s recovery and wondering if you’ve been okay.”

  “Wow, really?” Hope snickers from across the room.

  “Meet me downstairs,” Bryce sneers.

  “But you just told me to stay.”

  “Now I’m telling you to leave!” Bryce’s voice roars against the empty walls, startling me.

  Without a retort, Hope scampers away.

  “My dad took my phone and my car keys. I left the house only when I was forced to ride with my parents to church.” I look down at the floral print on my dress, bunching some of the fabric between my fingers. “Bryce, my dad found out about you staying in the house when they were out of town.” I glance up to find Bryce frowning in disbelief. “He also knows that we’re sleeping together and doesn’t want me to see you again.”

  Bryce stalks toward the couch and yanks the sheet and everything on it to the floor before sitting down and raking his hands roughly through his hair.

  “I made it my priority to come and see you when I got my phone and keys back, only to show up here and be accused of not giving a damn about you. Then, I discover that you’re cheating on me.” My nose begins to sting from holding back my tears. “All I ever did was love you.” I stand up, and so does Bryce. “Did you ever really love me, or was I just another convenient piece of ass?”

  “I fuckin’ love you, Ava,” he confesses in present tense.

  I blink away the endless stream of tears sliding down my face. “Love would’ve kept your dick in your pants.”

  I lean against the wall until I feel steady enough. Once I do, I storm toward the door.

  “Maybe love isn’t always enough.” Bryce follows close behind me then slams the door before I can make my exit.

  I rest my forehead against the door then turn around and face him head-on. “I would have to disagree. I was hoping to come here tonight to tell you why you haven’t seen me for several days, we’d kiss and make up, and then I would tell you how much I loved you.” I place my hand over his heart then trail my hand up to touch the imprint of my cross around his neck. “And you would tell me that you loved me too.

  Then I would tell you about the road trip I wanted the two of us to go on. I lied to my parents and told them that I wanted to visit some of my family members before I go off to college. I even thought about our escape route from the airport because that’s where we would leave in a rental car and travel through cities and states we’ve never been to and buy postcards and send them to my parents and your mom.” I remove my hand from his chest and turn back around and open the door.

  “Ava.” Bryce reaches out and grabs my wrist.

  I twist my hand and escape out of his grasp. “I guess I’ll be going on that road trip alone.”

  “Ava,” Bryce pleads from behind me, but I refuse to look his way.

  “Goodbye, Bryce.” I hold back my tears and leave without a second glance.

  Chapter 29

  Bryce

  Three Years Later

  Thwack, thwack, thwack. I alternate snapping the two thick rubber bands around my left wrist, tattooing red welts against my skin.

  “Stop or you’ll break the skin and make yourself bleed.” Bridget reaches for my wounded wrist and rubs away the sting that I intentionally created because I wanted to feel the pain. She knew the drill of me self-inflicting pain when I was stressed the fuck out.

  She and I met sitting in a circle similar to this one. I’d already been attending the sessions for about a month when she showed up and shared with the group on her first day that she was asexual. For most people, it takes weeks to muster up enough courage to share the reasons why they sit in a circle full of strangers.

  Immediately, she piqued my interest. I sat there wondering why such a beautiful girl didn’t like sex while my dick got me in a whole lot of unwanted trouble. Then, as if reading everyone’s mind, Bridget quickly added that she’d never been sexually assaulted and had been in intimate relationships before where intercourse was involved but never really loved the act of sex.

  Our group therapist at the time thought it would be plausible to pair us up as support buddies. We exchanged numbers then we soon realized that we also attended the same college and started hanging out, outside of therapy. Our eight-month friendship soon turned into a relationship then she moved in with me. We kissed, but not all the time, and we never had sex, though we tried. Every time we got to the intercourse part of our intimacy, my dick wouldn’t get hard enough or she’d change her mind. We weren’t compatible at all, but I guess it was the idea of having companionship. One night, she caught me jerking off in the shower while calling out Ava’s name. She immediately demanded to know who Ava was, so I told her in so many words that she was, is, and will always be the love of my life.

  Bridget later realized just how much I cared for Ava when she found the therapeutic letters that our therapist suggested that we should write to ourselves as a way of getting our thoughts and feelings on paper. Free handing words that we don’t have the guts to say to someone in person reveal truths of ourselves. I wrote every single day. Still do. Instead of keeping them stored in a journal, I ripped the pages out and mailed them all to Ava, addressing them to A.D. Walker each time until Bridget found out that A.D. Walker was Ava Daniela Walker. Then I started addressing them to her actual name. No need to hide it anymore. Since I didn’t have her address in Georgia, I sent them to her parents’ address, hoping the mail would be forwarded to Ava. I continued to write the letters anyway, not knowing if she got them. Then one day, I received a pink envelope with a return address from Atlanta, Georgia. I practically ripped it into shreds when I opened it. I remember the giddy feeling I got when my eyes scanned over the familiar, neat penmanship on the two-page letter until they landed on Love, Ava at the end. I started receiving letters from her daily until they suddenly stopped coming.

  I look up, feeling several pairs of curious eyes on us. I pull my wrist out of Bridget's soft, delicate grasp and zero my attention in on Oliver, a thirty-something, married father of twins. He shows up twice a week for sex therapy group sessions because he can’t stop thinking about other women while fuckin’ his wife.

  Bridget leans against my arm. “What’s got you so worked up?” she quietly asks.

  I remain silent.

  Bridget exhales a frustrated breath.

  I pull at the two rubber bands, ready to release them onto my skin once more. Just this morning, as usual, I logged into my social media to see where Ava’s road trip took her next. She always scheduled them when she was on break.

  Could’ve been me in the passenger seat with her traveling to places that we would’ve decided together just by using the close your eyes and point method. To this day, I regret what I did to her.

  “Ava!” I rush down the narrow stairs behind her. I reach out and grip on her dress then pull her back. Her body bumps into mine, and we drop to the stairs. I wrap my arms around her to keep her in my lap.

  “Let go!” she cries out.

  “No, please. Just wait!” I reach inside my back pocket and pull out my phone.

  “Bryce.” She squirms and claws at my arm.

  “Baby, please. Just listen.” I go to my call history, find the number and tap it, and place the call on speaker.

  “Bryce.” Ava’s dad’s voice emanates from the speaker. Ava freezes in my lap.

  “It’s done,” I call out.

  Ava turns and looks at me with wide eyes.

  “Well, I hope you didn’t break my daughter’s heart too bad.”

  I grind my teeth together. “Sir, I just did what you asked me to do.”

  Mr. Walker lets out a breath. “To tell you the truth, Bryce, I didn’t think you would follow through.”

  “Well, I guess I proved you wrong.”

  “Yes. That you did. Meet me tomorrow at—“

  Ava snatches the phone out of my hand and ends the call. She stare
s at the phone as if not believing what she just heard. “What the hell is going on?” Her hand begins to tremble.

  I lean into her and capture her eyes with mine. “With all the shit that’s going on with my life, I finally decided to go to your dad for help. He told me that he can get me the help that I need as long as I stay away from you.”

  “How could you agree to something like that?” She begins to wiggle and push down on my arms to break out of my grasp. “We could’ve gotten you the help you needed and done it together.”

  “Shit! I know; I wasn’t thinking.”

  Ava breaks free, and if I hadn’t reached for her arm, she would’ve fallen down the stairs.

  “Let go of me.” Ava steadies herself then pulls her arm free. She jogs down the stairs, and I chase after her.

  We burst out the door and into a haze of bright lights. I shield my eyes against Hope’s headlights and continue after Ava. I run ahead of her then block her path.

  “Let me make this right. I’ll call your dad right now and tell him that I don’t want to go through with any of this.”

  She reaches up and delicately touches my face then lifts on her toes and kisses me slowly.

  The kiss of death.

  I groan when her tongue swirls inside my mouth. Just as I’m about to palm her face and drown myself in her, she jerks away.

  “You just don’t get it.” A tear drizzles down her cheek.

  I frown. “I’m sorry.” I take a step toward her. “Let’s get on the road now and—and we can drive to Alabama to visit Hunter,” I begin to babble. I just needed more time to make her feel at ease then drop to my knees and ask for her forgiveness over and over again. Then everything will be fine again. Just like in those sappy love stories my sister loves to read with the happily-ever-afters. But her mood isn’t changing. “Ava, I fucked up.” My famous words come out as a last resort to make things right.