Presently Perfect (Perfect #3)

by Alison G. Bailey

  Brooke and I were meeting after class for lunch at the Hungry Lion diner, across the street from the main campus at College of Charleston. It was a small dive that had the best burgers in the area. The place was packed with wall-to-wall bodies. Once we squeezed our way inside, my gaze found her immediately. I blinked a couple of times in case my eyes were playing tricks. She’d been keeping me at arm’s length for the past few weeks, using the excuse of being tired and not feeling well. But the picture in front of me was of a smiling and laughing Tweet, at a table with her old roommate, Lisa, and some guy, having a good old time.

  Feeling tired and bad, my ass.

  The some guy sat next to Tweet, his arm draped across the back of her chair with his hand cupped over her shoulder. Every so often, he’d lean in really close as if he were about to kiss her.

  Groping Smurffucker.

  “Noah!” Brooke’s voice pierced through my pissed-off and confused haze.

  “What?!”

  “I said I’ll go put our name down for a table.”

  “Fine.”

  As she walked away, I marched over to the three laughing hyenas.

  “Tweet?”

  She looked great. Happy.

  Nervously, she shifted in the seat, moving away from the guy who was snatching a French fry from her plate.

  Looking up, jaw slack, she stammered. “No… ah. Hey.”

  My gaze bounced from her eyes to the guy’s hand that was still touching her shoulder.

  My shoulder.

  “Noah, you remember Lisa?”

  “Yeah. Hey. How are you?”

  Leaning forward, with her elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands, a huge smile crossed Lisa’s face. “Hello, The Noah. I’m good.”

  I nodded.

  “And this is Dalton.” Tweet introduced us.

  “Hey.” I extended my hand, he looked puzzled for a split second before shaking it.

  Douchebag.

  “You and Lisa are together?” I pried.

  “No, actually…” He shifted his arm from the chair to Tweet’s upper back, pulling her closer into his side. “…my young Grasshopper and I hook up every Monday.”

  The corners of his mouth curled up into a lopsided smirk, aimed directly at me.

  Grasshopper? He had a nickname for her?

  My temperature quickly rose along with the tension in my muscles. If he didn’t remove that arm from around Tweet soon, I was going to twist the fucking thing off followed by a punch to that smug smirk plastered across his face.

  Tilting his chair back, chest all puffed out, he glanced at Tweet and continued. “Yep, we’ve been at it for about two months, right?” His gaze swung to meet mine. “Our time together wears me completely out.”

  “He’s talking about chemo. We have chemo together on Mondays. Dalton, tell him it’s chemo,” Tweet blurted out.

  Dalton scrunched up his face. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  A snort of laughter came from where Lisa sat. I continued to stare down at the pair, waiting for some clarification on what the asshole was referring to and for him to stop touching my girl.

  “I’m just messing with you, dude. We have chemo together. That’s all. Unless you consider the blow jobs in the supply closet a relationship.”

  My gaze shot to a set of panicked teal eyes. “Tweet, I need to talk to you for a minute. Outside.”

  The sound of my name being called flew across the room as Brooke walked up.

  “Our table is ready,” she said.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Brooke didn’t acknowledge anyone else at the table except Tweet. “Hey Amanda, how’s the leg?”

  “Still missing,” Tweet said sarcastically.

  Clutching my bicep, Brooke tugged. “Come on before somebody steals our table.”

  “Go sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.” My eyes stayed focused on Tweet.

  Brooke dug her nails into my arm and huffed, before stomping off.

  “Tweet. Outside.” I walked away without looking back to see if she was following me.

  I barreled through the door of the diner onto the sidewalk, pacing until Tweet came out. My hands raked through my hair several times in frustration, confusion, and pure old-fashion jealousy. For weeks I was only allowed to see her for a few brief moments because she wasn’t feeling well. And here she was, out, looking amazing, and having fun with some other guy.

  Stewart you are hands down the biggest idiotic pussy around.

  The second Tweet walked out of the diner I grabbed her upper arm, leading her to the side of the building away from the crowd.

  “Who is that asshole?” I snapped.

  She shrugged out of my grip. “He’s not an asshole. He was just joking around. He does that.”

  “He likes joking around about fucking you? Is he?” My voice was harsh and angry.

  “Is he what?”

  Getting in her face, I snarled, “Fucking you?”

  “Where the hell is this coming from? Dalton and I are friends, that’s all. He was joking. What’s wrong with you?”

  I leaned away. “I don’t like guys talking about you like that. I don’t like him.”

  “Well, I do like him. He’s helping me get through all the shit I’m dealing with right now. I need him.”

  I stumbled back slightly. Her words were like a punch in the gut.

  “You used to need me,” I said with a shaky voice.

  “Noah, I’ll always need you. It’s just… Dalton understands exactly what I’m going through.”

  The look in her eyes when she talked about him caused my heart to stop. She had a connection with him that went deeper than the illness they shared.

  Glancing away, she mumbled under her breath, “This is ridiculous.”

  “I don’t like how touchy feely he is with you.”

  “I’ve watched Brooke climb all over you for months. Not to mention how much she enjoys pointing out the fact that I have a limb chopped off, making me damaged goods.”

  “This isn’t about Brooke. This is about you and me.”

  “You’re right. This is about you and me. You have Brooke and now I have someone in my life to take…”

  “My place?”

  “No. No one will ever take your place. How come you can have someone and I can’t?”

  I leaned in so close our noses were touching. “Let me remind you, sweetheart. I never wanted someone else. That was your call.”

  I pushed past her and headed back inside. Marching over to where Brooke was sitting, I slid into the booth. As I scanned the menu I caught Tweet heading back to her table. Lisa and Dalton stood, the three exchanged a few words, before the girls left.

  Dalton turned to the table beside theirs where four pretty girls sat. He made some comment that caused the table to erupt in laughter, and then swaggered toward the counter to pay.

  Cocky bastard.

  After a few seconds, the cashier tilted her head to the side, giggling at whatever the little prick said to her. My blood boiled over. It was obvious he and Tweet had a connection and here he was flirting with any pair of boobs that entered into his field of vision. I hated that he was in Tweet’s life, but I wasn’t going to stand by and let him hurt her.

  Before my brain had a chance to think, my body propelled itself up and out of the booth.

  “Noah… blah, blah, blah,” Brooke called out.

  Just as I reached him, Dalton turned, almost slamming into me.

  “Whoa! Sorry dude,” he said, holding his hands up.

  “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  “You sure like the outdoors.”

  I walked out the door.

  He sauntered onto the sidewalk with the same smug smirk he had earlier.

  “What are you doing with Tweet?”

  With one quirked brow, he asked, “Tweet? Who the fuck is that?”

  “Tweet… Grasshop… Amanda.”

  “Oh, is that what
you call her? Weird.”

  “I didn’t ask you out here to discuss nicknames. But now that you mention it, what the fuck is Grasshopper all about?”

  “A private joke.” The side of his mouth cocked up in a grin.

  What was it with this guy and the fucking smirks?

  “Answer my question. What are you doing with her?”

  “Whatever she’ll let me do.”

  I grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Give me a fucking straight answer.”

  He winced then dropped his gaze to my fistful of material.

  “You’re holding on to a lot of hair there, dude.”

  “I just want an honest, non-smartass answer to my question,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He looked up at me. “Since getting the shit beat out of me isn’t on my bucket list I’ll answer, but you gotta unhand the follicles first.”

  My hand dropped and I took a step back.

  Rubbing his chest, Dalton said, “We’re hanging out.”

  “Do you love her?” The words were out of my mouth before I knew it.

  “In my own way.” There was sincerity mixed with sadness in his eyes. He was giving the best answer he could.

  I was aware that Tweet had relationships with other guys—Brad the Smurffucker and Matt the dick. It killed me to think of her with anyone. With those guys I knew she was passing time, wanting to get over this pull we had to each other, just like I’d been doing with Brooke. But with Dalton it was different. I could tell in the brief time I saw them together that what they had was special.

  “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.” His voice snapped me back to the sidewalk.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Haven’t you been paying attention? I met her at chemo… bucket list. I’m dying, dude.”

  I simply looked at him, unable to respond.

  “Stage four brain cancer.” He said it like it was an accomplishment.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Makes me less of an asshole in your eyes now, right?”

  “No, you’re still pretty much an asshole.”

  “I like you despite your Captain Caveman mentality.”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Captain Caveman, it’s a classic cartoon.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I gave him a puzzled look.

  “It was featured on Scooby’s All-Star Laff-A-Lympics. Don’t tell me you don’t know who Scooby Doo is.”

  “I know who the fuck Scooby Doo is.”

  “Then you’re not a lost cause.”

  This encounter had taken an odd turn, from me wanting to beat the shit out of him to us discussing some lame-ass old cartoon.

  “Are we done with this pissing contest?” He stuck his hand out toward me.

  Slapping my palm in his, we shook hands. “I think so.”

  Dalton turned and took a few steps down the street before spinning back around.

  “She’s a special girl who deserves to be cherished.”

  “I know and I do,” I told him.

  He started back down the street.

  “Hey, Dalton.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he replied, “Yep?”

  “Take care of yourself.”

  “Too late for that, dude.”

  He gave me one last smug smirk and then disappeared around the corner.

  It had been a week since I’d seen Tweet at the diner. Even though both she and Dalton denied having more than a friendship, a deeper connection existed between them. I wanted to be the one person who knew her the best and understood everything she was experiencing, but I couldn’t be, not this time, so I backed off. Tweet’s happiness was the most important thing in my life. If that meant stepping aside for now and letting Dalton be there for her, then that’s what I had to do. I threw myself into school as much as possible, trudging through my day like a lost zombie.

  I was living at home with Mom again. Carter had asked me to stay on at the condo after the New Year, and I did for a few weeks. After deciding to give Tweet some space, being only minutes down the street from her was too tempting. Mom and I were on different schedules, so it still felt like I was on my own. She was doing great, keeping busy with work and friends. My aunts decided to surprise her this weekend with a trip to New York, so I had the whole house to myself for a few days.

  I was walking in the back door after a marathon study session at the library when my phone vibrated in my pocket with a text. I had put it on silent while at the library.

  Brooke: Where are you?

  Me: Just got home.

  Brooke: There’s something special waiting in your room.

  As I dumped my backpack on the table I glanced up at the window over the sink. Memories of Tweet flailing her arms and dancing in her own window flooded my mind and made me smile, causing the ache in my chest to intensify. I missed her so much.

  Pulling myself away from the window, I walked down the hall to my bedroom. I opened the door to find the something special lying across my bed on her stomach, blonde curls piled high on top of her head, and wearing absolutely nothing.

  “Hey baby,” Brooke said, cocking her head to one side.

  “What are you doing? How did you get in here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. I used the spare key under the mat. Surprise!”

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, grabbed the blanket that was draped over the chair next to it, and threw it on top of Brooke.

  She sat up, wrapping the blanket around her body. “Your mom is gone for the entire weekend.”

  “I gotta be honest, being in my childhood bedroom and you mentioning my mom is not a turn on.”

  Giggling, she slid off the bed and walked toward me.

  “I know things have been a little off between us and you seem to be having a rough week. Give me a chance to make you feel good. Give us a chance, Noah.”

  Brooke held my gaze as she slowly unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it over my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers slipped into the top of my jeans. Walking backward, she tugged me toward the bed. Before sitting down, she let the blanket untwist from her body. It hit the floor at the exact same time my phone lit up with a text.

  Tweet: Hey, I’m at your back door.

  My gaze flashed from the text to a naked Brooke, back to the text, back to naked Brooke. My heart thudded against my chest as beads of sweat popped everywhere sweat could pop. I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard three knocks at the back door.

  I picked up the blanket and covered Brooke. “Stay here. I need to see who’s at the door.”

  I rushed out of the room, not waiting for her response.

  I ran down the hall to the back door and flung it open. Tweet really was at my back door. I didn’t imagine the text or the knocks. We stared at each other. She looked beautiful as always, but nervous. My stomach sank. What if she was here to tell me she and Dalton were now together? I stood silent, letting her make the first move.

  She inhaled a deep breath before her words came out in rapid-fire succession. “I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment we met. I love you deeper every time I see you. I know the timing is awful, but there’s never a perfect time. So, no matter what happens, I needed you to know how I feel.”

  I had dreamed about the moment when she would finally say those words, my response and how we’d end up celebrating, a million times in the past. The moment was here and nothing came out of my mouth. I was dumbstruck.

  It felt like we stood staring at each other for hours before I finally said, “Tweet, I…”

  No sooner had the words left my mouth when the sound of an irate Brooke screaming my name and stomping in our direction filled the air. She was wrapped in only the blanket. Then it dawned on me that I was standing in the doorway shirtless.

  “Oh my god! I thought you were alone. I only saw your car out front.” Tweet tu
rned to leave, but I grabbed her before she could get away.

  “Tweet, don’t go. Just give me some time. Brooke, let’s go in the other room.”

  “You read her text while you were fucking me!” Brooke screamed.

  “My phone was on the bedside table. I just glanced over at it.”

  “You almost broke your fucking neck jumping off of me to get to the door.”

  Tweet broke free of my grip, walked as quickly as she could to her car, and sped off down the street.

  Closing the door, I leaned back against it, rubbing my hands up my face and into my hair. Brooke stood in front of me, fuming.

  “I’ve put almost an entire year into you,” she said, clenching her jaw.

  “Why did you lie to her about what we were doing?”

  “Because she needs to realize you don’t belong to her.”

  “But I do.”

  “I was the perfect girlfriend—fun, smart, sexy. I pretended to like the stupid music you listen to and baseball. And you could have done anything you wanted to this.” She ran her hand down the length of her body. “We look incredible together. Do you have any idea how good I would be for your career? I look like a fucking surgeon’s wife!” she yelled and stomped her foot like a two-year-old brat.

  “Let’s finally be honest, Brooke. From the second you knew I was headed to medical school you had your hooks firmly planted in me. That’s what was important to you, the status, not me.”

  “Like you didn’t have ulterior motives being with me. Don’t act so high and mighty, Noah. Why were you with me? Oh, I remember now. You were trying to get over your fucking Tweet who didn’t want you.”

  I stood in silence, letting her get all her emotions out.

  She paced back and forth, talking more to herself than me. “No matter what, that fucking girl was always in my way. Even when she wasn’t physically around she was in your head. Every time she walked in a room your eyes got all googly for her.” Stopping abruptly she faced me. “Why didn’t you look at me that way?! After all I’ve done for you—the goddamn cookies I’ve made for you and I don’t even like to bake, the times I gave you the green light to fuck me, and I even got rid of that manipulative bitch for you so you could move on with me!”