Perfect You (25 page)

"Me too," I told him, and we went out into the living room.

I noticed, with a great deal of surprise, that Grandma had moved over to the sofa and that she had one arm around Mom's shoulders. And that Mom wasn't trying to move away.

"So," Todd said, sitting down next to Mom on her other side as I sat in the recliner, my hands sweating as I rested them on its arms, "I should probably get going. Do you need anything?"

Mom shook her head. "Will you leave me the number where you're staying?"

"Sure. But what about here, Mom? Any news on the house?"

"Well, I was going to wait until Steve came home, but now--" Mom said and then broke off, clearing her throat and blinking hard.

Grandma squeezed her shoulder gently and said, "It's all right, Sharon. You can do this. I know you can."

"The house has been sold," Mom said. "A family with three little boys bought it, and they're really excited about moving in. We"--she paused, and looked at me--"we'll be moving out in about a month. Maybe less. Your grandmother and I looked at some apartments today and maybe a little later this week, you and I could go and look at them."

"I can take Kate to look at them if it would help out," Todd said, pulling her into a hug.

He was acting so supportive and noble I wanted to hit him.

Mom shook her head, smiling for the first time all evening, and Grandma said, "Todd, darling, how sweet of you to offer." She looked at Mom. "See, I told you the children would understand."

Naturally, that's when I started to cry. I wanted to understand, and I did see that I was going to have to move. I got that my parents had split up. I realized that my former best friend wasn't my friend again, that I'd fooled myself into thinking she was. I even saw that the guy I liked might not like me as much as I'd thought he did, that there hadn't been any phone calls wondering where I was or what had happened because what he'd said last night was just words and nothing more.

I saw what my life was. But why did it have to be like this? What was it about me that was so terrible?

"Oh, Kate," Mom said, her voice shaking and her smile fading. Grandma gave me a look. "What?" I said to Grandma, wiping my tears away. "I'm not allowed to be sad about this?

I should go outside and do cartwheels instead? My life is totally ruined."

"Don't say that," Mom said. "You still have me and your father, even if we aren't tog--"

She broke off and started crying again.

"Come on, Sharon," Grandma said, clasping Mom's hands in hers and helping her up like she was too weak or sad to stand on her own. "Todd can let himself out, and we'll let Kate be by herself for a while. That's it, darling, lean on me."

"Way to go," Todd said after Grandma led Mom

back to her room.

"I can't be upset?"

"We're all upset, moron. But Mom's really upset, and it would have been nice if you could have thought about how she feels for a second."

"I know she's upset," I said, "but I just don't get why it's so terrible that I'm sad too. I mean, I have the worst life ever."

He shook his head. "Despite your belief that no one suffers like you do, Mom's hurting, Kate. I mean, really hurting. You think your life is bad? Try and think about what it's like for her. Also, just so you know, I'm not thrilled that sending me to college caused them to lose the house, or that I'm twenty-three, have a college degree, and can only get a job selling coffee."

"So now this is about you again. Poor, poor Todd."

"Your attitude sucks."

"Not as much as you."

The phone rang and he answered it, glaring at me as he did. "Hello? What? I can hardly hear you. Oh. Yeah, hold on a second." He held the phone out to me. "It's for you. I guess you didn't scare away that guy from last night yet."

Will? Will was calling me? He must have noticed I wasn't at work today, and now he'd called! I grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kate."

It was Dad, not Will. Disappointment washed over me so strongly I had to lean against the wall.

"Hi, Dad."

"Dad?" Todd said, his voice tight, and yanked the phone out of my hand. "Dad? It is you!

What are you--you called and disguised your voice? What's wrong with you? Are you afraid someone might tell you that you suck for refusing to see that Perfect You is crap, or that you've made Mom cry pretty much nonstop? Or--" He paused, listening to whatever Dad had to say for a moment, and then hung up the phone.

"You hung up on him?"

"Hell, yes," Todd said. "That jackass said he can't pick you up after school tomorrow and that you don't need to come to work anymore because he doesn't want to 'burden' you.

And then he swore he pretended to be the guy you went out with last night so he could get you on the phone without 'upsetting' Mom. What a liar. He's just doing everything he can to avoid her. Avoid us." He smiled at me, but it was forced. "Hey, at least you won't have to work at the mall anymore, right?"

"Do you think he'll ever come see me or you or Mom?"

"Yeah. He'll probably act like the house isn't gone and like he and Mom--well, actually, I don't know what he'll do about that. But he'll show up. If nothing else, he'll have to come by and pick up his video games. You know he can't live without them. Plus, you and me are pretty much his favorite people in the whole world. Or at least I am."

"Funny," I said, but I felt a little better.

"I'm going to take off," Todd said. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with a phone number on it. "This is where I'll be. Call if anything happens or if you need anything, okay?"

"I need a ride home from school tomorrow."

"I meant something big, not driving you around," he said. "See you, Kate."

"Bye, loser."

He grinned at me. "Yeah, you definitely aren't getting a ride from me any time soon."

After he left I flopped onto the sofa, exhausted, and after a while, I heard Mom's bedroom door open, and Grandma came back out into the living room.

"Did Todd leave, darling?" she said as she sat down next to me.

"He did. Here's the phone number." I passed the piece of paper to her. She smoothed it out and laid it face up on the coffee table. "Who was on the phone?"

I looked at Grandma, who just nodded wearily, understanding what I didn't say. "What did he want?"

"I don't have to work at the mall anymore and he can't-- won't--pick me up after school tomorrow."

She sighed. "I can pick you up, darling."

Just what I needed, Grandma at school. I could see her now, rolling down her car window to offer "advice" to everyone passing by: "Darling, no one wears that color anymore," and "Darling, do you mean to look like you got dressed in the dark?"

"I'll take the bus."

"Did he ask to speak to your mother?"

"No. He actually pretended to be someone else to get me on the phone, I guess because he thought whoever answered might yell at him."

I looked over at her. She was staring straight ahead, her expression impossible to read.

"It didn't work, though. Todd pulled the phone away as soon as I said, 'Dad?' and yelled at him, then hung up on him."

I thought she'd say "Good," but instead she pressed the tips of her fingers to her face, just like Mom used to do whenever she talked to Grandma on the phone.

"I guess you're pretty mad," I said.

"No, darling," she said. "I'm sad. I want your mother to be happy, and despite my reservations she seemed to be, and now-- well, now she isn't happy at all. And with this move coming up . . . it's going to be very hard on her. Thank goodness I've found that I quite like shopping for apartments. We saw one today that had a terrace that would be perfect for an outdoor seating set I saw in that home decorating magazine I bought last week. You know, the one from England?"

Wait a minute. "Are you--I thought you were going home."

"Oh no, darling. I'm staying for a while longer. You know, your mother and I have never actually lived together before, at least not since she was very young. I think it will be good for us."

I stared at her, numb. This was it, then. It was really over. No more house, no more family. Now it was going to be me and Mom and Grandma, all living together in an apartment. Good-bye old, normal life. I wished I'd appreciated it more.

"Darling, you're sitting in a dreadfully slumped way," Grandma said. "I know this may sound silly, but sitting up straight is truly important. Why, posture alone can make a dreadful outfit look--well, slightly less dreadful. So why don't you sit up and--"

"I just found out I officially don't have a home anymore," I told her, sitting up straighter as I spoke, my back become more and more rigid as the words poured out of me. "My best friend not only doesn't want to talk to me, she acts like she never knew me at all.

My parents aren't together because my father likes vitamins more than us. Oh, and to top it all off, the guy I went out with last night said we'd see each other at the mall today, but we didn't, and he hasn't called and I know what that means."

"What does it mean?"

I spoke slowly, and through gritted teeth. "Nothing good."

"So, when you called and asked why he hadn't called, he said something cruel? I'm sorry, darling. I thought Will seemed nice."

"Oh, right, I called him, Grandma. What a really great idea." I pretended to pick up a phone. "Hi, Will, I didn't see you today and I was just wondering if you noticed because I'm totally pathetic."

She acted like she hadn't heard most of what I'd said. "Why didn't you call him?"

"Because I don't need any more bad news. I've already got no friends, no life, and no family, making this year officially the worst year of my entire life. Why can't things be like they used to? If this year had never happened, then--"

"Things change, darling. That's what life is."

"Well, I hate it. And this year, my life hasn't been change, Grandma. It's been an end. A long, horrible end. The life I had is gone. Over. Done."

"Darling, I'm going to tell you something important," she said. "Things end. People leave. And you know what? Life goes on. Besides, if bad things didn't happen, how would you be able to feel the good ones?"

"But I've lost my parents, my best friend, my house--"

"Don't be melodramatic, darling. You haven't lost your parents."

"Fine, they're just 'changed.' But where's the good stuff you mentioned? Because I'm sitting here trying to think of something--anything--and I can't. In fact, whenever I think life can't get any worse, it does."

"So, you're telling me that no matter what, you can't be happy? Well, darling, it's no wonder you're miserable. It's what you want." "It's not like that," I snapped. "I want to be happy."

"So then try."

"Try? That's your advice? Try to be happy? Great, Grandma. Thanks."

"Darling, the world doesn't owe you anything."

"Wow, that so doesn't make me feel better."

"It's not supposed to," she said. "That part is up to you."

She stood up, glancing down the hall. "I'm going to check on your mother. Think about what I said, all right, darling?"

"Sure," I muttered, and when she left, I waited for a minute and then went back to my room, shutting the door firmly behind me before climbing into bed and pulling the covers up around me even though I wasn't cold and was actually still dressed. It just felt nice to be wrapped up in something safe.

I couldn't believe Grandma's idea of advice. Telling me the world didn't owe me anything and that I had to try to be happy to be happy? What kind of crap was that? I could try to be happy forever but it wouldn't change the fact that I'd been wrong about Anna wanting to be my friend again, and it definitely didn't seem like it was going to get my parents back together or even talking.

Try to be happy? Please. Wasn't that what I'd been doing ever since the disaster that was the first few days of school?

No.

The word washed over me as I lay there.

No, I hadn't tried to be happy. I'd thought about what had happened with Anna, wondered what I could have done differently, wished for things to go back to the way they were.

I hadn't tried to be happy for Dad and the changes he'd made either. I didn't think I'd ever find any happiness in his obsession with Perfect You or what it had cost our family.

I supposed there was some happiness in not having to work at the mall anymore but, weirdly enough, that stupid job was the only thing that had actually brought me any. If it hadn't been for the mall and the hideousness of working there, plus the dismal state of my life in general, I never would have gotten up the nerve to talk to Will that first time.

(All right, I basically invited him to make out with me, but it sounded better the other way.)

It was funny to realize that the stupid booth and those stupid Perfect You vitamins had helped me get to know Will. Had helped me realize how much I liked him. I'd even got up the nerve to confront him and ended up going out with him because of it.

But I'd only done that after Todd had basically told me to try living, to let people know who I was, and I'd realized Grandma had said something similar, urged me to go after what I wanted.

Try to live. Try to be happy.

I moved out of my cocoon of covers and looked at the phone. Trying to be happy sounded pretty good, but my father's attempt at happiness hadn't worked out too well for him or anyone else. And trying with Anna hadn't either.

But that's what happens, Grandma had said. Things end, people leave, and life goes on.

You need the bad things to feel the good ones.

Try, she'd said.

I picked up the phone. I put it down. This was too hard. What if I'd read too much into last night? What if Will didn't want to talk to me? Then it would be better to find out now, wouldn't it?

I picked up the phone again, and dialed.

It rang. I felt sick. What was I supposed to say? My head and heart were so full from everything that had happened today, from everything that had happened all year, that I didn't know where to start.