Better than Perfect

by Simone Elkeles

  After dinner, he drives back home.

  I don’t make eye contact when he parks in our driveway, because I might be tempted to lean in and kiss him. “I had a really . . . interesting time tonight.” I don’t want to tell him the truth . . . that tonight was the first night in a long time I forgot to be depressed.

  I’m super confused and emotional. I don’t want to do anything I’ll regret. I open the door, but Derek reaches over to stop me from getting out.

  “Wait!” he says. “I wanted to give you somethin’ . . .” He reaches into the backseat and grabs a football. “Here. It’s signed by the ’92 Dallas Cowboys. It’s even got Aikman’s signature.”

  My fingers trace the signatures. I’m holding a piece of Texas history. “How’d you get this?”

  He shrugs. “My grandmother sent it for my birthday a while back.”

  “This is really cool, Derek. You should keep it.”

  “I want you to have it.”

  I give him a big hug. “Thanks, Cowboy.”

  I intend to pull away immediately, but when he hugs me back I find myself closing my eyes and lingering in his warm embrace. I’ve wanted this. I’ve waited for this. My heart is beating fast and I feel out of breath with his strong hands on my back.

  I lean back slowly. Our gazes lock. His eyes practically shine in the dark.

  His gaze moves down to my lips. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

  “Do you usually ask a girl, or do you just do it?”

  “Usually I just do it.”

  The words come out without my brain contemplating the consequences. “So what are you waiting for?”

  The side of his mouth quirks up, but it’s not from cockiness. I think he’s shocked that I haven’t punched him in the face or left the car. I’m challenging him. His hand cups the back of my neck, his thumb slightly caressing my sensitive skin. Oh, I am in so much trouble right now because I want this so bad.

  My breath hitches when Derek leans forward. I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, eager to see what it feels like to have his lips pressed against mine.

  His breathing is ragged. “Damn, that’s sexy.”

  I smile wide. “You know we shouldn’t play games like this.” My teasing lips are a whisper away from his.

  “I know. This is a really bad idea,” he agrees, but doesn’t seem to want to retreat.

  “You better be as good at this as you think you are.”

  “I’m good, Sugar Pie.”

  I move back just the slightest bit, knowing I should protect myself and run into the house, but I want to continue to play the game. He wants this to be a game, so I’m playing it the only way I know how. I know guys like Derek. They like challenges and the cat and mouse game.

  Time to play the mouse.

  “Wait.” I place a hand on his chest. I feel the muscles beneath his shirt and the fast pounding of his heart. “Our kissing styles probably aren’t compatible.”

  “Try me,” he whispers, then moves in and places slow, thoughtful little kisses on my lips. I fight the urge to moan. Those little kisses are meant to drive me insane. And they are. Damn him!

  “How’s that?” he asks.

  “Umm. . . .”

  His tongue traces the line between my lips.

  “And that?”

  That’s it. I’m definitely going all in for this now. I grab the back of his neck and pull him closer so we’re full-on kissing and my lips are crushing against his and he feels so different and good and my body is starting to turn into liquid fire . . .

  His lips urge mine open. His hot slippery tongue searches for mine. Our tongues mingle in a sexy dance. I like this way too much.

  “I think we’re compatible,” he groans against my mouth.

  “You think?” I’m panting and wanting this to last longer.

  “Maybe we should keep doing it, just to make sure.” His hand reaches up and he slowly slides the ponytail holder out of my hair, which falls around my shoulders. “Hey,” he says. “Why are your eyes closed?”

  I shrug.

  “Look at me, Ashtyn. I don’t want to be some faceless guy.”

  I open my eyes. His lips glisten in the faint light from the porch.

  “You’re like a warrior princess, you know that?” He gently swipes my hair out of my face. “So beautiful.” The moment is too intense and feels so real. It doesn’t feel like a game, even though I know it is. It’s confusing my already raw emotions, which is exactly what he wants.

  “Are you being serious?”

  My question has lots of implications, because if he’s serious, that means the game-playing is over.

  He hesitates, then leans back in the driver’s seat. “You should know me by now. I don’t take anything seriously.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “In fact,” he adds, “I was hopin’ you’d let me take a pic of you and me makin’ out so I can post it on the Internet and piss off your ex-boyfriend. How about it?”

  A picture to post on the Internet? I almost got sucked into spilling all my feelings to Derek, when all along this was just a joke to him. I’m the punch line.

  “How about this nondate being officially over.” I push him away and rush out of the car as I vow never to play kissing games with Derek Fitzpatrick again.

  Chapter 29

  Derek

  Well, I’m a certified asshole. I didn’t mean to hook up with Ashtyn. Kissing her felt damn good . . . and made me want to lose control with her. Which is why I made up that idiotic story about posting a picture of us kissing online. I didn’t know any other way to push her far enough away so she’d hate me.

  Ashtyn isn’t just any random girl. She’s Brandi’s sister and a girl who’d never hook up with a guy without thinking that she’d end up in a serious relationship. Her mom left her, her sister left her, her dad might as well have left her. I need her to think I’m an asshole, because no matter what happens between us, I’m leaving soon and I’m not coming back.

  I set the football in front of her bedroom door, knowing it’s a lame peace offering but not knowing what else to do or say. I knew she liked it by the way she studied the Dallas Cowboys’ signatures as if they held some secret football code.

  In the morning, Brandi comes in my room while I’m still half-asleep. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt that hugs her pregnant belly. Falkor trots in behind her with a chewed-up football in his mouth. He sits next to my bed and drops the drool-covered, deflated ball. Aikman’s signature is torn in half . . . some of it is missing, probably been swallowed by the beast.

  “He ate it,” I mumble in shock.

  “I know, isn’t that so cute! Ashtyn was tossing it to him this morning in the front yard, teaching him how to play fetch.”

  Shit. Ashtyn really knows how to say fuck you without uttering a word.

  “I have an appointment for an ultrasound next week,” my stepmother says in an excited tone. “I want you to come with me.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Oh, come on. Since your dad’s not here, I really really want you and Julian to be there.” The woman doesn’t realize that it might be weird for me to go to her ultrasound. “I can take you and Julian out afterward, like . . .” I can practically hear the rusty wheels in her brain turning. “I’ll take you guys, like, apple picking afterward. You’ll love it!”

  “Apple-picking season isn’t until the fall,” I inform her.

  “Oh. Right. We can do something else, then. Something super fun. Super.”

  “How about we just go to lunch.” At least I can be spared having to eat another one of her home-cooked meals. I sit up and try not to stare at her growing belly.

  “Does that mean you’ll go?”

  I look at her pleading face and feel sorry for her. I guess if she were my wife, I’d want someone to go with her. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

  “Thank you, Derek! You’re The Best!” She attempts to sit on the edge of my bed, but loses her balance and alm
ost tumbles off until I reach out to steady her. Giving up on sitting, she stands next to my bed and rests her hands atop her stomach. “So . . . I hear from a little birdie that you got a letter from your grandmother. That’s nice.”

  “Right.” If she knew my grandmother only cared about herself and would probably insult Brandi on sight, I don’t think she’d think it was nice.

  “What did she say?”

  “That she’s joinin’ the circus as the bearded lady.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not really. She’s dyin’ and wants me to visit her in Texas.” She cocks her head. “Is that another joke?” “No joke. I’m gonna visit her.” After last night, I realized Ashtyn is my kryptonite. I feel myself getting too close and need to back off.

  I hear the front door slam. Ashtyn must’ve left for practice and she’s obviously still mad. Two hours later, when she pulls into the driveway in her beat-up car and I’m fixing the broken slats on the shed, I still don’t know what I’m going to say to her.

  She limps into the house. Her hair is in a low ponytail and she’s got grass stains on her pants. She definitely had a rough practice. I tell myself to leave her alone, but I can’t get her off my mind. I find her in the living room soaking her foot in a bucket of ice. Brandi is painting her nails and Julian is sitting next to Ashtyn watching TV.

  “Ashtyn, can we talk?” I ask.

  “No.” She gestures to the bucket with her foot inside it. “I’m kind of indisposed and am sick of playing games. Call Bree.”

  “Don’t give me crap. I didn’t plan last night to play out the way it did.”

  Julian taps me on the leg. “Derek, you said ‘crap.’”

  “So?”

  He leans in close and whispers, “It’s a bad word.”

  Brandi nods. “It’s written on our no-no word list. You can’t say it.”

  Only Brandi could have a no-no word list.

  “‘Crap’ is not a bad word.” I look to Ashtyn for confirmation, but she shrugs like she has no opinion whatsoever. The girl can think of an argument for any little thing, but when it comes to backing me up, she’s at a loss for words. “I can think of a ton of other words that are way worse than ‘crap.’”

  “Stop saying it.” Ashtyn joins the no-no list brigade. “You’re corrupting my nephew.”

  “You’re just pissed at me ’cause of last night.”

  “You’re so wrong,” Ashtyn says. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “Wait, did I miss something? What happened last night?” Brandi asks.

  Ashtyn gives me a level stare. “Nothing happened. Right, Derek?”

  “Right.”

  “Where did you two go?”

  “Trampolining, then White Fence Farm,” Ashtyn says.

  Brandi puts down her polish and furrows her brows. “Then why are you pissed at him? It sounds like fun.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Brandi. Okay? You just keep thinking that Derek’s perfect just like everyone else.”

  “Nobody’s perfect,” I tell her. “Not even you, Ashtyn.”

  “I never once said I was perfect. In fact, I’m an idiot.”

  “Join the club.”

  When Gus arrives home a few minutes later, he takes one look at Ashtyn with her foot in the ice bucket and mumbles something about canceling football camp and getting his money back.

  “What football camp?” Brandi asks.

  “Your sister wants to drive to some football camp in Texas. By herself,” Gus announces. “It’s not happening.”

  “Wait, I have an idea!” Brandi, my scatterbrained stepmother, whirls around and looks at me as if I will save the day. She claps her hands, careful not to ruin her freshly manicured nails and says excitedly, “Derek is going to Texas to visit his grandmother. Derek can drop Ashtyn at football camp, then go see his grandmother. Then he can pick Ashtyn back up and come home. It’s the perfect solution!”

  Everyone’s eyes are on me. What, does Brandi think that putting us in a car together will miraculously fix whatever’s wrong in her sister’s life? Not gonna happen. “I don’t think so.”

  Ashtyn nods. “I agree. That’s the worst idea.”

  Gus nods. “Then it’s settled, Ashtyn. You’re not going.”

  Chapter 30

  Ashtyn

  I spend the next two hours calling everyone I know outside of my core group of friends. Nobody can make the trip to Texas with me. I’m out of options . . . almost.

  Derek.

  I’d rather eat nothing but green smoothies for an entire week than be stuck with him on a road trip. I made a complete fool out of myself on our nondate, and feel like an idiot because every time I think of his hands on my body or the way his tongue slid against mine, my knees go weak and I get a tingling sensation in my stomach. I hate myself for falling into Derek’s trap.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then try to come up with a plan on how to get to Texas without Derek. Ugh, it’s impossible.

  Derek is the only person who can help me. I find him outside, on top of the shed, shirtless. He’s hammering a nail, but all I can think about is getting carried away feeling those tight abs last night. I wish I could wipe that memory from my brain, but it’s obvious that’s not about to happen.

  “I need to talk to you,” I say.

  He continues to pound away. “Why? You ready to talk about why you’re so pissed?”

  “Not really, but I don’t have a choice.” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. Or let you kiss me. It was a huge mistake that I’ll regret forever. I’m pissed at you for tempting me and I’m mad at myself for letting it happen. You got me at a weak moment and it sucks knowing I can’t turn back time and erase it. There, I said it.”

  “Forever’s a long time, you know,” he says.

  “I’m well aware of that, thank you,” I say. “I didn’t want to ask you this, but I need your help with the whole driving-to-Texas thing so I can go to football camp. I’ve called everyone I know and even some people I don’t really know. Nobody can do it.”

  “I’m your last choice, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  He jumps off the roof of the shed and walks up to me. “You made the rule that we weren’t supposed to get into each other’s business. Last night we did and look what happened. I’d say drivin’ you out of state and sleepin’ at campgrounds in a tent together definitely counts as gettin’ into each other’s business.”

  Wait. I think I heard him right, but I’m not sure. “Campgrounds?”

  “I like to rough it.”

  Roughing it isn’t my thing, but I’m desperate, so I lie and put on a big, fake smile. “I love camping!”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

  I shield my eyes as I look up at him. “You wanted me to challenge you and argue with you. I’m willing to keep playing this game if you are, minus the kissing and touching part. Think of all the time we’ll have to argue and annoy each other driving to Texas.”

  “Sounds temptin’, but after last night, that’s probably the worst idea. Ever.” He points to the chewed-up football. “Oh, yeah. And thanks for feedin’ the football I gave you to your dog. I’ll bet it’s sacrilegious to destroy Troy Aikman’s signature, but don’t worry. I won’t out you.”

  He heads for the house. I can’t let him walk away from me, not now. I catch up and stand in his way.

  He gently nudges me aside. “Sorry, Ashtyn. I can’t help ya.”

  Time to let it all out, no matter if my ego is bruised. “Wait! Derek, football means everything to me. I need to go to Texas. I need to prove to everyone else and myself that I deserve to be there as much as any guy. I didn’t tell you before, but Landon left our team to play for our rivals. I refuse to give up, even though everything seems useless now.” I look away because my eyes are starting to tear up. “You don’t understand. I don’t have anything else besides football.” I gesture to Falkor, whose head is resting on Derek’s feet. “I
don’t even have my dog anymore because he likes you better. I don’t have much, and I don’t ask for much. You’re my last hope.”

  I take a deep, shaky breath, knowing full well that my tears are on the brink of overflowing. Derek rubs the back of his neck, deep in thought.

  “Sorry, can’t do it.”

  “Name your price,” I offer in desperation.

  “My price?”

  “Yeah. Just throw out a number.”

  “A million dollars,” he says.

  Yeah, right. “Obviously I don’t have a million dollars.” I calculate how much money I’ve saved up from babysitting, holidays, and birthdays. My dad gave me cash for special occasions—his consolation prize for my crappy home life. “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks and I’ll split the cost of gas.”

  “Just a hundred?” he asks, unimpressed. “That’s less than minimum wage.”

  “This is a cash job, remember?”

  “You’re not takin’ the stress factor into consideration. Dealin’ with you, Sugar Pie, ain’t a piece of cake.”

  “I’ll throw in two boxes of granola bars for the car ride.” I hold out my hand. “Deal?”

  He looks at my hand for a long time. Then he shakes his head. “Listen, Ashtyn. I don’t—”

  “Come on, Derek. This isn’t a joke. I don’t have anyone I can count on anymore. My boyfriend ditched me, we don’t have a decent quarterback. My life is a complete mess. I’m, like, drowning here. Prove to me that it’s not all hopeless.”

  He rubs his neck again, then sighs a few times as he looks across the yard. Finally he says, “All right. Deal.”

  Chapter 31

  Derek

  I got suckered into coming to Illinois.

  I got suckered into going to Texas.

  I got suckered into going on a road trip with a girl who makes me want to kiss her and stay far away from her at the same time.

  How the hell does this stuff happen to me? I couldn’t say no to Ashtyn when she talked about how much football and this trip meant to her. Once upon a time football meant that much to me.