Almost Perfect (13 page)

I never really understood what Brenda’s father did for a living, but he earned a lot. At this home, a trailer was what you used to pull your boat, not something you lived in. It was funny, but her parents had always treated me nicely. This was one of the few places where I hadn’t felt like a poor boy.

The rain had stopped, and I’d been standing in the street for ten minutes trying to swallow my pride and go up and knock. It shouldn’t have been hard; I’d banged on that door every weekend for three years. Eventually, I ran up and pushed the doorbell, fighting an urge to run off giggling.

“Logan!”

I’d forgotten what it was like to be this close to her, to look her right in the face. That long black ponytail. The high cheekbones, the pale skin. Those filthy glasses.

“Hey, Brenda.”

Her surprise turned to worry (or suspicion). “Would you like to come in?”

“Uh, no. I was just passing by. Feel like a quick walk?”

Brenda grabbed her jacket, and we took off down the road. Neither of us spoke. For years, I’d spent every free moment with this girl, and now I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I think the last thing I had told her was that she was a whore, so it was hard to start a conversation.

She ended the silence. “How are Jack and Tim doing?”

“They’re fine. Jack and I are going to Mizzou in the fall. And Tim’s got a girlfriend.”

“So the rumors are true.” At Boyer High, it was hard to lose track of anyone, even after breaking up with their friend.

I stopped suddenly. We were in front of a large stump at the end of Brenda’s street. It was the spot where we’d first kissed, back when we were freshmen. God, I’d felt so awkward. But she had giggled and hugged me and told me I was the cutest guy she knew.

I placed a foot on the stump and stared off into a fallow field. “Brenda, why did you leave me?” I said the words quickly, like diving into a cold pool. I would have lost my nerve if I’d waited.

“Logan …” Brenda’s tone was almost whiny. Maybe she was afraid I wanted to fight some more. Or wanted another chance.

“I’m not trying to rehash this, and I don’t want to get back together. But you owe me this. Why?”

She didn’t say anything for a bit. “I guess you wouldn’t believe it if I said I didn’t mean to cheat on you.”

I gazed off into the distance.

“Logan, look at me.”

I considered disobeying, but only briefly. She stared at me with the same sad intensity as she had on that awful day in October. The same look that had made me realize even before she said a word that Jack hadn’t been lying.

“Does it really matter at this point?”

“Yes. I need … what’s the word?”

“Closure?”

I nodded. After dropping Sage off, I’d found myself driving out here. I wanted to finish things with Brenda, to
try to finally close up the wound she’d left. And I had to know where we’d gone wrong before I could do that.

“Okay, but this was your idea.” She took off her glasses and polished them on her shirttail, leaving them even more smudged than before. “I cheated on you because I was weak. But, Logan, I would have hurt you more if I’d stayed.”

I almost convinced myself I’d misheard her. “Brenda, what—”

“Let me finish. When we started going out, you’d always go on and on about how smart I was. And how pretty I was. And how wonderful it was to be with me.”

“Excuse the hell out of me.” Jesus Christ, did every woman make no sense?

“It was wonderful for me, too. For a while. But I kind of just thought of you as my high school boyfriend. I figured you saw me the same way. We’d date for a while, then get on with our lives.”

Recalling my reaction to Sage’s revelation, I forced myself to count to ten before saying anything. “I
did not
see you like that, Brenda. Remember when we said we loved each other? I’m not sure what you were talking about, but I meant it.”

She smiled a frosty smile. “Logan, I tried to tell you I was having second thoughts, but you’d just gloss things over, act like nothing could ever end our eternal romance.” Her tone took on a slight sarcastic edge that I did not care for. “Remember when we went mini-golfing on Labor Day? You kept talking about the fun we were going to have
at Mizzou. How could I tell you I wanted to go to Washington U instead?”

Wash U is a private college in St. Louis. Even with student loans, it was well out of my price range.

Brenda continued. “I think that was the day I decided I didn’t really love you.”

“Labor Day?”

She nodded.

“My
birthday
?”

She winced, then nodded again, not breaking eye contact.

“Then why didn’t you just dump me? Why didn’t you tell me I was being a romantic fool?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

I actually laughed. “You didn’t want to
hurt
me?” A little slobber ran down my chin.

Brenda turned away. Her body went rigid for a moment. She took a deep breath and turned back to me.

“Or maybe I didn’t want to hurt
me
. I knew if I tried to break up with you, you’d convince me to stay. I wasn’t strong enough to tell you that your feelings and my feelings weren’t the same. They were close, but close isn’t always good enough.”

“You certainly came up with an interesting way of telling me.”

Brenda opened her mouth with an angry look on her face, then stopped. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I swear I didn’t. But Blake offered to give me a ride, and one thing led to another—”

“You know what?” I interrupted. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

I used to think Brenda might be my wife someday. I never thought we’d end up being strangers to each other. It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Brenda was standing there staring at the stump. When she finally looked up, there was a defeated look in her eyes. As much as I didn’t want to acknowledge it, she was hurting, too.

This was one of those Hollywood movie moments where the hero says something profound before walking off into the sunset. Of course, my attempt at cinematic greatness was anything but profound.

“Blake?” I asked, my voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Huh?”

“You dumped me for a guy named
Blake?”

Brenda looked confused. I continued.

“I mean, I could understand you leaving me for a Doug, or a Johnny, or even a Brian, but
Blake?”

Brenda glared at me through the distinct thumbprint on her right lens. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I’m sure he is.” I turned on my best Homer Simpson mocking voice. “Ooh, my name’s Blake! Would you like to have some tea and go to the opera?”

“Logan, shut up.”

“My name’s Blake! I enjoy romantic movies and walks on the beach!”

“Stop it!”

I began to skip about. “I’m Blake! I like ponies and Cinderella and rainbows!”

Brenda suddenly shoved me in the chest with both hands, and I went sprawling. I hadn’t been expecting that, and I stared up at her in shock as muddy water trickled into my underwear. Brenda looked so angry I thought she was going to kick me in the face.

But five seconds later, we were both laughing, hard and loud, just like we used to. As Brenda helped me up, I smiled like a total goofball. For the first time since the summer, I wasn’t mad at her.

“Logan …,” began Brenda.

I couldn’t bear to talk more about what had gone wrong between us, so I decided to make a quick exit.

“I’m going to head out now.” I put my hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Be happy, okay? And I hope you find what you’re looking for.” I walked off toward my car, still giggling.
Blake?

As I spread newspaper on the front seat to avoid leaving a muddy butt print, I thought back to what my ex-girlfriend had said. She’d lied to me about so many things. Nurturing my hate wouldn’t do anyone any good.

When I started the car, I thought about Sage. She hadn’t lied to me about our relationship. She had flat-out told me she couldn’t date me and that we could only be friends. In fact, she had only ever lied to me about one thing. Granted, it was a pretty important thing.

Did I really want Sage out of my life? Maybe. At least that way I wouldn’t have to face what had happened between us.

S
INCE
I
WAS
no longer stalking Brenda or hanging out with Sage in the mornings, I actually began to arrive at biology before Tim. When he entered the lab the Monday after I’d tried to exorcise the demons from my past, I noticed something different about him.

For starters, he wasn’t hauling around his usual convenience store’s worth of candy, chips, and other junk food. Just a sixteen-ounce soda and a small can of Pringles. Was he fasting? But there was something else.

“Tim? Do you have a job interview today or something?”

For years, Tim’s wardrobe had consisted of a highly distressed pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, even in the summer. But today he was wearing khaki pants, a T-shirt that wasn’t a size too small, and a stylish-looking sweater vest. He’d even traded his sneakers for some loafers.

Tim flipped through his bio book. “Dawn’s picking me
up after school today. Thought I’d dress up.” His olive cheeks flushed red.

I fought the urge to tease him. If Dawn could convince Tim to watch what he ate and not to be a slob, then more power to her.

“That reminds me,” continued Tim, trying to change the topic, “my eighteenth birthday is this weekend.”

“Oh yeah! What’s the plan? Buy some cigarettes, lotto tickets, and a rifle?”

“Vote and register for the draft,” countered Tim. “Actually, Dawn wanted us all to go out and see this comedian in Columbia on Saturday. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, okay.” That sounded like something college kids would do. It would be good training. “Jack can drive me.”

“Jack’s still grounded.”

“Oh yeah.” I’d tried to warn him that constructing a potato cannon was not the greatest idea, but he and his brother were determined. Luckily, no one had been injured in the explosion, though Matt had nearly become another spud-related statistic.

“I think Mom has to work Saturday night. Can I ride with you and Dawn?”

Tim, for once, wasn’t seething with self-assurance. Something was bothering him. Finally, he spit it out.

“Logan, do you think you could, you know … bring a date?”

“Huh?”

Mr. Elmer was sifting through his notes. Class was about to begin.

“Listen,” said Tim rapidly. “We can drive you to
Columbia, no sweat. But … Dawn said she wanted to … I mean, after the show … wanted to go somewhere and be alone.” Tim had turned completely away from me and had nearly buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ll find someone. Someone with a car.” Tim shot me a thankful smile as the first bell rang. I, on the other hand, felt uncomfortable. After Brenda and Sage, my next date would probably turn out to be an ax murderer. Oh well, as long as she could drive.

I stared at our rotary dial phone, trying to will myself to pick it up. Mom was gone. For the first time in over a year, she was spending one of her nights off out drinking with some friends. She’d been apologetic when she brought it up. I almost had to push her out the door.

Arranging a date for Tim’s birthday had proved harder than I’d expected. Tanya was off the market. Brenda was dating Blake the Flake. The few dozen girls I knew well enough to ask out either were dating someone, didn’t like me, or were girls I didn’t especially want to go out with. It was starting to look like I’d have to either not go or try to bum a ride home from someone.

I tapped on the phone. Of course, there
was
one person who liked me. Sage would probably like to see the comedian. And she had access to a car. We could go to the club and wouldn’t really have to talk to each other.

And afterward we could put tinfoil in the microwave and clean some loaded guns. What in the world was I thinking? After the pure hell Sage had put me through,
why would I want to see her again? We’d both apologized, and though we weren’t pals again, the hate was gone. That was the best we could hope for. If I asked her to join us, she might think I wanted to be friends again. I didn’t want that.

I smacked the phone so hard the bell dinged.
I don’t want that!
Because Sage would still be nice, still be funny, and still be—pretty. And still be a boy. I could forgive myself for my earlier attraction. But now if I looked at Sage and thought she was cute, even for a moment, then I’d have no excuse.

I thought it would be so easy not to think about Sage. Denial is powerful. With practice, I could just pretend that I’d never kissed a boy, never almost hit a girl, and never been so gaga over Sage. While I was at it, I could pretend I was rich and a football hero. Maybe that’s what my father had done. Convinced himself that his kids were better off without him. Being a dad is hard, so why try? Being friends with Sage was hard, so why bother?

I got up to pace, but there wasn’t room. Maybe Sage deserved more than this. Maybe I deserved more. If Sage and I could just go out and see a show together, then maybe there was no reason to end our friendship. We’d be going to college together, after all. Now that I’d never try to kiss her again, we could hang out every now and then. And if things were too awkward at Tim’s party, then I could honestly say I had tried.

This was all just an elaborate way of saying I missed Sage and wanted to see her again.

I felt the same knotted tension in my gut that hit me
before every track meet. She probably would just hang up on me, anyway. I dialed her number, almost hung up, then involuntarily smiled when she answered.

“Hi, Sage.”

“Logan!” I could hear her gasp on the other end. Then there was a pause. I heard her walking, then heard a door slam.

“You still there?” she asked.

“Yeah. Um, how are you?” I asked in a monotone.

“I-am-fine,” she mocked in a robotic voice. I smiled, remembering the many times she’d made me laugh.

“Hey, listen. Tim is turning eighteen tomorrow. And some of us are going to a comedy club in Columbia.” I said this so rapidly I expected her to ask me to repeat myself.