Perfect. Part 24

Go inside to wait for Sean, feeling great.

Unbelievably In through the door walks Conner, surrounded by a group of people I've never seen before. He's with a kind of cute guy, a rude-looking girl, a twentysomething woman, and one who is older than that, all dressed up in business-type clothes. They head straight for the bathrooms. Conner, who hasn't seen me, waits outside the doors for the rest of them. My heart tumbles into my mostly empty stomach. I have to say something. Like what? That I hate him for what he did? That I still love him, and always will? Oh G.o.d.

I go over, wanting to touch him, but afraid if I do he'll disappear. And out of my mouth spills, "Hey, Conner.

I heard you tried to die. That right?"

h.e.l.lo, Kendra. He turns on one heel to face me. Stiff as a fresh corpse- and why did I have to think that? Guess I did. Next time I'll have to try harder.

I can feel my face turn white.

"Don't say that! Believe it or not, a few people care about you.

One or two of us even love you."

His eyes cloud with... disbelief?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.

"There's Sean. Gotta go. Hope to see you again soon, Conner. Give me a call, if you want to. I'm a good listener."

I turn my back as he joins his friends.

Sean

Back Turned You don't have to look at what you've left behind.

And the person who first turned their back on you can't watch you break down and cry. Never allow an enemy to see weakness in you.

Go for the throat.

Shoot for the groin.

Don't let your loss yesterday redefine who you are.

Fight the good fight.

Today is your day to win.

Fighting Depression Is hard when you have no real reason to fight it. Why pretend everything is fine when everything pretty much sucks? Two weeks since the blowup with Cara, you'd think I'd accept it.

Move on. But all I do when I'm alone is think about the good times with her.

I've tried to talk to her. Tried to figure out exactly when everything went to h.e.l.l. It wasn't the night we had s.e.x.

It started before. I can see that now. But what started it? The more I try to figure that out, the more frustrated I become. I work out, to keep my frustration in check.

But once I'm done, anger beaten down by reps upon reps, I am muscle sore and heart-emptied. I have no one to talk to about it.

Okay, I did a fair amount of screaming on Facebook.

Heat of the moment is all.

What good did it do, except to make me feel validated for a little while? One thing I learned. Cara's so-called friends aren't really friends at all. The only one who had nothing awful to say about her was Kendra. Not that she exactly stood up for her, but at least she didn't trash her. I've got to respect her for that.

Her Call Surprised Me But, hey, I was just sitting here, alone in the vacuum that is my room. Getting out for a while sounds good. Anyway, Kendra is pretty cute, if a little on the skinny side. Going to the movies with her, no strings attached, might Band-Aid my injured ego.

And maybe word will get back to Cara. Wouldn't that be fun? She would be upset, wouldn't she?

'Cause if I found out she's been seeing some guy behind my back, I would have to take matters into my own hands.

And it definitely wouldn't be pretty for that guy. Or for her.

I Get To The Theater A few minutes after two.

Through the big gla.s.s doors, I can see Kendra, talking to some guy....

Holy s.h.i.+t. It's Conner.

By the time I get my ticket and go inside, he has hooked up with some strange people, including one majorly hot lady, who looks to be about thirty-five. d.a.m.n that Conner.

Not only does he have a thing for older women, they seem to have a thing for him. At least, that one does. She takes his arm, leads him away. Whispers something into his ear that makes him laugh. But I have to say, he looks uncomfortable.

Maybe because of Kendra.

She wanders up, all weird and shaky. Hey. Thanks for coming.

Guess you saw who I was talking to. He looks better, right? She sways a little, and I think I might have to catch her. "I suppose. But since he was, like, bleeding out when he went to the hospital, he'd almost have to look better. Come to think of it, though, he looked well enough to be back in school.

Why isn't he? And who were those people he was with?"

I don't know. She sighs. But I'm not sure which question she doesn't have the answer to. The movie's going to start.

Do you want some popcorn?

Does That Mean She's Buying?

I'm kind of afraid to joke with her, so I won't ask.

She's sad, seeing Conner.

I guess I understand.

I would be sad, seeing Cara right now. Especially if she was having fun with other people. Unfamiliar people. Especially a new guy. G.o.d, I've got to stop beating myself up inside my head. And I don't suppose I should mention the older woman thing.

Conner wouldn't be out in public with one he was doing, anyway. Would he?

Maybe she was the girl's mom. But then, who was the girl? And the guy?

And Why Do I Care?

I get a c.o.ke and Kendra goes for diet. No surprise. I spring for a big tub of popcorn.

"b.u.t.ter?" Kendra shakes her head, but when she isn't paying attention, I ask for it anyway. Hey, I'm buying.

Kendra keeps looking toward the corridor Conner disappeared into. Hoping he'll materialize.

The attendant points us down the opposite hallway.

Kendra goes first. I watch her walk, all spindly like an aspen sapling wobbling in the wind. She is model pretty. And death-camp thin.

Don't guess she'd appreciate me telling her that. None of my business anyway.

The previews have already started by the time we get inside. We find our seats in the semi-dark, stumbling up the stairs to the very back, tripping over purses and feet.

Scary Movie 666 is pretty much like all the other Scary Movies, except with more devil stuff. Entertaining enough, for c.r.a.p. Kendra, who wanted to see this dumb movie, might be staring at the screen, but she doesn't react to the funny parts, doesn't jump when she should. And she hasn't touched the popcorn. Glad I got b.u.t.ter. And I'm also glad this isn't a real date.

We Sit Watching The credits roll. People filter past us, down the stairs, out the doors. And still we sit here. The popcorn bucket is less than half full, thanks completely to me. "You sure you don't want a little? Hate for good popcorn to go to waste." Not that it was really that good. Kind of stale, in fact.

Kendra shakes her head. No thanks. I'm not really hungry.

Anyway, we're supposed to have a family dinner tonight.

That usually means lots of carbs.

I can't help myself. "You could probably use a few carbs. But I know what you mean. Aunt Mo is big on the pasta, and I'm a protein kind of guy."

She lets the carbs remark go on by. You look great. Beefed up a lot. Which reminds me, do you know anything about Clen? She's talking Clenbuterol.

"Uh. It's a steroid, right? Why would I know anything about that, other than the stuff I've read about people using it for weight loss? You're not thinking about using it, right? Because if you lost any more weight, you'd flat not even be here.

Jesus, Kendra." I'm not sure her body could handle Clen.

She ignores everything I just said. It would help me gain muscle, though, right? Then maybe I could eat more without putting on poundage.

Point Taken I tell her I'll look into it for her. I've got to visit Chad for a refill myself. I probably should take some time off, but what the h.e.l.l? I need something to get my bat hot again. One more cycle and I can lay off for a while.

When the lights come up, we get to our feet. Kendra moves about like a tortoise.

I bet a little food could help her walk faster.

But when we start down the hall, she keeps looking around, and I realize she's being deliberately slow, hoping for another glimpse of Conner. d.a.m.n, she's got it bad for him. Stupid girl.

Andre

A Glimpse Of greatness should inspire the desire to attain greatness too. So why, then, do I.

mostly feel intimidated by my father, whose success I covet? Is it because I am afraid to attempt, and fail?

Or do I somehow find comfort in failure?

To face a compet.i.tor and lose is expected sometimes.

No shame. But if I take a shot at a personal best and come up short, it means maybe I'm delusional to take a chance on myself.

Breakfast This Morning Was unusual. Dad, Mom, and me, all at the same table.

It was orchestrated, the two of them double-teaming me. You graduate in nine weeks, said Mom. What course have you decided to embark upon?

Okay, just semantically, the sentence irritated me. "Are you talking 'course,' as in course of study, or 'course,'

as in a river's course, or the course of my life?"

I wasn't trying to be snotty. Well, not really snotty. But go figure, she took it that way. And Dad was already mad at me for refusing to plan the trip to California to look at schools.

I do not understand your att.i.tude, he said.

Don't you realize your entire future is at stake? Stupid questions don't really demand answers. I didn't say anything, which made every inch of skin above his too- tight collar turn the color of a boiled lobster. Are you being deliberately obnoxious? That made me laugh. "Not deliberately, Dad. I can't help it. I was born this way. I think it must be genetic."

Mom scowled. I figured I probably shouldn't mention the web of facial lines that created.

Would you please be serious? she said.

Have you even thought about what you'll do after graduation?

"Of course I've thought about it. How could I not? Dad's been on me for months. I told him what I want to do, but he says art won't pay the bills.

In fact, he thinks it makes me gay...." Mom flinched.

"Okay, I'm not gay. And to tell you the truth, design is a compromise.

I..." I had said too much. I backpedaled quickly. "Gramps always said if you do what you love, the money will follow. Worked for him. It will work for me.