Finding Perfection

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Finding Perfection Page 2

by Cassandra Giovanni


  In every breath,”

  This was the hard part; picking and singing the final words. I closed my eyes.

  “You and I.”

  My hands lifted off the guitar to hold the microphone for one final sentence, sang in a whisper.

  “You and I.”

  My chest filled with air as I stepped back from the microphone and opened my eyes. The crowd was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if my voice was shot and I hadn’t noticed it, but slowly they began to stand and a deafening applause echoed through the room. My gaze found Dad, who stood with tears in his eyes, holding my sobbing mother to his side. He nodded at me, and I nodded back before turning to Alec and West. West’s green eyes sparkled as he blinked rapidly. Beautiful he mouthed to me as Alec pulled me into his arms.

  “Thank you,” Alec’s said, and his words were choked. “Thank you so much.”

  He stepped forward with the scissors and looked over his shoulder at me. “Would you do it with me?”

  I smiled, handing West my guitar and then stepping forward to put my hands next to his. Then we moved in sync, and the ribbon fell free.

  “The Robert Beckerson Memorial Rink is now open to skate!” Alec’s voice boomed through the room, followed by another deafening round of clapping.

  Once I was off the ice, the crowd seemed to converge on me, and that was far more intimidating than singing in front of them. It was even scarier when I heard one of Bobby’s prodigies say he was putting it on YouTube, and it was totally going to go viral.After all, the girl’s hot.

  I glanced up at West who was biting his lip trying not to laugh.

  “I’m like ten years older than him,” I whispered, elbowing him.

  “And taken.” He wrapped his arm around my waist.

  I smiled up at him just as Mom and Dad managed to force their way up to us. Mom’s eyes were red from crying. She reached out to me, and I stiffened as she pulled me into her arms.

  “That was just beautiful. I never knew you could sing– or play guitar,” Mom said as she stepped back and held me at arm’s length. Her eyes ran over me as if seeing me for the first time, and I tried my hardest not to mention the fact she could’ve listened during the talent contests I entered in middle school instead of gossiping about the other parents with Vickie.

  I managed to give a nod before extracting myself and stepping back into West’s arms. Dad looked at Mom and me as if he wasn’t sure if he should mention the fact he always knew. I shook my head, and he looked down at his feet. I should’ve called her out on it, but it wasn’t the right time. There never would be a good time, because if I ever brought it up again, she’d just deny it. I was sure there’d be double-handed compliments or blatant insults shortly, anyway.

  “Adam taught me to play when we were teenagers,” I said shrugging. “I taught myself how to pick, though.”

  “Taught yourself?” she said, and there it was, the blatant insult in the disbelief of her tone. I felt my body bristle once more. My brain was trained to think the worst now. I shouldn’t assume it, but I did.

  West’s thumb tucked itself under the back of my shirt, tracing circles against my skin and relaxing me. My muscles softened, and instead of spitting something venomous back I shrugged.

  “Yeah. I saw some girl doing it and wanted to learn how. YouTube.”

  Mom’s lips curled up, and her eyes softened. “That’s lovely. It’s so good to see you.” Her eyes lifted to West. “And to meet you. It’s great to see her so…in her element.”

  I felt him shift behind me as he coughed and then replied, “Thanks.”

  I was pretty sure he didn’t know what ‘in her element‘ meant, and neither did I.

  Happy?

  Yes, but I was good at more than just singing. I was in my element as a marketer, designer, and photographer. Standing singing wasn’t my element– it was Adam’s. The silence stretched between us, one awkward moment piling on the rest before Dad leaned around West’s tall frame.

  “Looks like Alec’s opening up the concessions before the free skate– want to get a corn dog or something equally greasy?” Dad asked, and relief flooded my system. Food in our mouths was an excellent excuse not to talk.

  We each got something equally unhealthy and went to the stands to eat. Some kids were already skating, foregoing the greasy food for a chance at the clean ice. I was wrong about the food, it didn’t make the silence any less awkward, and Mom kept darting her eyes at West as if she was trying to figure him out.

  “So, West, what do you do for a living?” she asked.

  He stopped chewing for a second, eyes darting to mine before swallowing and wiping his lips. “I have a degree in business. I own my own company.”

  I leaned closer to him, kissing his cheek as he pulled down the sleeve of his shirt which was starting to ride up. His body tensed as I put my half-eaten hamburger down and wove our fingers together.

  Mom’s eyes widened, and she swallowed her mouthful of cola.”What kind of company?”

  West’s face flushed under his five-o’clock shadow, which was the color of dry dirt, only a bit darker than his blond hair. “Artist.”

  “Oh, so you own a gallery or studio?”

  I glanced at Dad who looked at a loss for how to stop her. He knew how we met and what West did for a living; most people who watched cable television did. She wouldn’t though; I was sure if she saw the words tattoo she wouldn’t watch it.

  West nodded, the flush leaving his face. “Something like that.”

  I looked out on the ice, my chest tightening. I didn’t like the fact West was lying. Well, not lying, but skirting around the truth in hopes she’d like him. I was happy with him, and that was all that should matter.

  “That’s lovely,” Mom said, and I wondered if that was her new favorite phrase; some veiled insult I didn’t recognize because I hadn’t seen her in almost a year. Or was I being paranoid and it didn’t mean anything? I swallowed, my vision blurring the skaters into blobs on the ice.

  “You want to skate?” West asked, squeezing my hand and looking at the ice I stared at.

  My head jerked as I came back to reality. “Yes, I’d love that.”

  A way to escape.

  “Do you mind?” West asked, looking between my parents who smiled and shook their heads. Once we were out of hearing range West heaved a sigh. “That wasn’t too bad.”

  “I kept expecting an insult,” I said, closing my eyes and letting him pull me into a hug as we stopped at the line for skates. He kissed my head, and my body melted into his, finding comfort in his touch and smell.

  He looked down at me, eyes flicking over my face. “I could tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that tense.”

  “The worst part is the fact I keep thinking all these stupid things in my head. I feel like I revert to a snobby sixteen-year-old when I’m in her presence,” I said, and West rubbed my arms as we moved up in line for skates.

  “Is that when it started? You not getting along?”

  I ran my hand through the loose part of my hair. I had French-braided the side with my bangs so they wouldn’t fall on my face while I was playing guitar. “I guess that’s when it really started to get to me. I never fought back until the blowout last year at Thanksgiving. It was like years of holding back came out in five minutes of accusatory bullshit. I feel like I’ve always felt like this, though, waiting for the next insult.”

  West was quiet for a moment.

  “You know how she is, right?” he asked, and I chewed on my lip, my shoulders lifting.”But maybe she doesn’t get it– or doesn’t care to. She’s not going to change. Maybe if you called her out on it when it happens, it would help.”

  I lifted the sleeve of my shirt, so the arrow on my forearm was showing. “Like when she sees this.”

  West’s brows rose along with his chest. “You still like it?”

  I nodded and lifted the hand entwined with mine up so I could inch up his shirt sleeve before kissing the edge of his tatto
o. “Almost as much as I love yours.”

  I looked up at him through my eyelashes, my lips hovering over his painted skin.

  His voice deepened. “You shouldn’t do that in public.”

  “And why is that?” I asked, and he stepped in front of me. He lifted my arm up and pushed the sleeve up again, so the arrows showed. West’s eyes locked on mine as he pressed his lips against the tip of it, and my toes curled in my shoes as tingling rushed from my center and out.

  “See,” he said with a wink before turning to the counter and giving the clerk our sizes.

  My eyes fell to the tattoo.

  Pushing into the positive.

  Maybe Mom learned, or perhaps I could learn how to deal with her. I looked up at West, and he winked at me. Possibly with his help, I could. He didn’t hold the anger Adam, or I did, which made him far more rational.

  And all the more perfect. I leaned up and put my arms around West’s neck. He cocked his head, in question. I pressed my lips against his and when I pulled away his away were foggy and thin lips swollen.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Because you make me happy, and I want everyone to know it.”

  His lips curled up as he ran his fingers through my hair. “If your singing doesn’t go viral, that kiss will.”

  I laughed as we sat down to put our skates on. West smirked as he held his hand out to me when we finished.

  His head tipped to the side. “Perfect timing. This is our song.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had a song,” I replied as he led me out onto the ice.

  “Shh,” he said and then he went behind me, skating in unison with me. I hadn’t heard the song before, but Kellin Quinn’s distinct voice was a giveaway. The words sunk into me as West whispered them in my ear and we flew across the ice just like the lyrics said.

  Chapter 3

  I pulled my lip into my mouth as the cursor blinked in the search bar. How bad could it be? I looked at the ceiling before my fingers moved over the keyboard, typing in the words. There could be absolutely nothing under ‘Robert Beckerson Memorial Ice Rink Dedication.’ My eyes fell back to the screen.

  Except there was.

  The camera phone video was zoomed all the way in, showing me standing on the ice rink, and the video views were at 5,117. I swallowed as I clicked the video so it would play, my blood rushing in my ears. I didn’t actually think anyone would put it online, and I wasn’t sure why I was so intrigued. Thousands of views overnight was nothing; my eyes drifted to the sidebar. Especially not compared to Fade Burn’s video that was popping up under related; over a million hits. I leaned forward, my finger hovering over the mouse as the arrow button hovered over Adam’s. My finger seemed to gain a mind of its own, pressing down, so Adam’s video came up and then began to play. I pulled my earbuds up and put them into my ears with my eyes closed. Adam’s voice echoed in my head. It was the same song he’d used to open the show we broke up at. I inhaled, slowly opening my eyes to find West sitting in front of me, leaning over the desk so he could see what was playing on the screen.

  I yanked the earbuds out, my heart hammering as I hit the ESC key.

  West sat back, putting his ankle on his knee, and the words rushed out in a high-pitched voice, “I wasn’t looking for it. It just popped up when I went looking to see if that kid posted a video of me.”

  His brows rose into his forehead, green eyes darkening. “I get it.”

  “You get it?”

  His eyes said otherwise. I knew him well enough to decipher the emerald his eyes turned wasn’t because he ‘got it.’ It upset him.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s natural to be curious how an ex is doing.”

  “It is?” I replied, shaking my head and then I froze. “Do you look up your exes?”

  West chuckled, and the green of his eyes brightened as he stood and came around to rub my shoulders. “Not really.”

  I turned in my chair, and he leaned down, putting his hands on the arms of it. “Then how do you know it’s natural?”

  His eyes drifted to the ceiling as his muscles flexed, and then his gaze came back to mine. “I was trying to make myself feel better about it.”

  “West,” I said, leaning up and putting my hands on either side of his face. His eyes closed, and his muscles relaxed. “I can guarantee that you have nothing to worry about.”

  He opened his eyes slowly. “Right now.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as he pulled away, moving back to the front of my desk.

  He put his hands up. “Ignore me. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed with filming starting again. Anything I say and do is up for question.”

  I heaved a sigh, standing and going to sit in his lap. I ran my fingers through his hair. “I do worry about Adam– after the way I left things — and the way things ended with Tara. I guess I was just curious how he’s doing.”

  “But a music video doesn’t answer that,” West replied, looking up at me.

  “He’s more popular than me,” I said, smiling down at him. “But I do have over five thousand views.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his lip ring pulled into his mouth as he bit his lip. “Our kiss or you singing?”

  “Singing. The kiss probably has a hell of a lot more, especially if anyone figured out who you are,” I replied, leaning down and putting my finger over his lips, so it was the only thing separating us.

  “Oh, right. I’m famous, too. I almost forgot– except I’ve had a camera shoved in my face all day,” he said, and his muscles tightened again.

  “That bad?” I asked as I stood up after catching Charlie wiggling her eyebrows at me suggestively through the glass. My office was a fish tank in the middle of the open office setup, and sometimes I forgot how little privacy there was.

  West’s hand ran over the dirty blond scruff on his chin. “Just a bit much. Getting back into the swing of things is hard. We’re told to act natural, but then they give us scenarios.” He used air quotes for the last part. “They go out and find us clients. Honestly, we have enough clients between what’s scheduled and walk-ins.”

  “How long do you film for?” I asked as I sat in the chair next to him and entwined our fingers.

  “A few months. The first show will air around Thanksgiving, though,” he replied, putting his head in his hand, and looking every inch of his nickname ‘Beck.’ It was a natural pose for him, but it definitely had that David Beckham quality that earned him the name.

  “That’s exciting,” I replied, squeezing his hand.

  “You’re not going to watch it are you?” he asked, his head coming up.

  “You don’t?”

  He shook his head. “No. I have no interest in seeing how they portray my life in some dramatized craziness that it’s not. I’m not all that interesting. They tend to take whomever I’m dating and try to make that into a big deal — which reminds me, you might want to stay away from the shop for a while. Unless you really want that thing going viral.”

  His finger pointed to the computer.

  “I’m good with a few thousand hits,” I said.

  “Sure you don’t want to be the next Shawn Mendez?” West asked, his eyebrows going up and down as a smirk came to his thin lips.

  I leaned towards him. “I’m pretty sure there’s only room for one famous person in this relationship. I mean your ego is pretty large.”

  West’s hand came up to my chin, tilting it up to graze his lips over mine. “That’s all an act.”

  “You know you’re pretty,” I replied, my voice a breathy whisper.

  His thumb ran over my lower lip. “Am I now?”

  “And rich,” I added.

  “Which reminds me, what do you want for your birthday — perhaps something to replace your soccer mom car?” West asked, wrinkling his nose at me.

  I pulled away, huffing and crossing my arms as I looked straight ahead. He stood in response, coming into my line of vision and leaning back against my desk.
<
br />   Another easy model pose. I blinked at him a few times, my lips pursed.

  “My Civic SI is not a mommy car.”

  “You just keep telling yourself that,” he replied with a wink.

  I rolled my eyes. “Besides, we need something to transport the dogs around in.”

  “There are luxury sedans,” West said, pointing at me as he cocked his head.

  “Yeah, but when your Audi’s tranny blows, it will cost what my car is worth to fix,” I reminded him, giving him a toothless smile.

  He shrugged, his hands finding the edge of my desk. “I’m rich. I’ll just get a new one.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “But seriously, Riv — what would you like for your birthday?”

  “Honestly,” I said, standing and putting my hands behind his neck. “I don’t care as long as I get to spend it being happy with you.”

  West’s forehead dipped down to mine as he put his hands on my waist. “Your wish is my command.”

  Chapter 4

  Months. I’d gone months without thinking about Adam. Not a day went by without thinking of Bobby, but Adam was different. Somehow West had irradicated the worry I had about Adam. I’d gotten past what happened and accepted him for what he was: a drunk rockstar.

  But now everywhere I turned he was there. From the second I saw that statue of us as kids he hadn’t left my mind, haunting me around every corner in a subconscious way.

  Now, I held a letter addressed to my boyfriend from my ex-boyfriend. I’d know that chicken scratch anywhere, and even in this yellow padded envelope without a return address, I knew it was him.

  Adam.

  He wouldn’t know I was with West unless he saw the video of me singing with him in the background next to Alec. Then again, that didn’t actually mean we were dating; we could just be friends. I shook my head.

  He’s not trying to interfere.

  Why would he? He was living it up on the road. Not that I really knew that. Aside from watching the music video, I hadn’t tried to look anything up on Fade Burn or Adam. I sat down at the island, the light package causing my hands to sweat as I stared down at it.

 

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