Perfect (14 page)

The girl in the mirror snorted. "Ha! You're Belly.
Belly. "

For a moment I thought I heard Ashley in the hall and
I froze. But my watch said she'd only been gone two minutes.

Ashley's desk was very organized, everything in its
place. I opened the top drawer. Pencils, all in a line,
sharpened into perfect points. When I opened the second
drawer it was filled with folded pieces of paper, wrapped
together in bundles with rubber bands. On top of each bundle was a sticky with Ashley's writing on it. Notes
from Ryan James. Notes from Jason Gullo. Notes from
Dan Fosse. Notes from Peter Marsh. Notes from Brian
King. Me, I would be happy with one note from a boy.
One! More proof of how Ashley is the luckiest person
ever.

I looked at my watch. I had time for one more drawer. I
thought, What could possibly be inside drawer number three,
a million dollars.? A party invitation from the President of the
United States? Instead, opening drawer number three was
like taking a drink of what you think is going to be orange
soda but turns out to he grapefruit juice. It was full of Cliffs
Notes, and the top one was for A Separate Peace, the book
we're reading in English. Certain pages were marked with
paper clips.

I tried to remember what Mr. Minx told us at the
beginning of the year: "Cliffs Notes are for cheaters. If you
use Cliffs Notes you are not only cheating the system, you
are cheating yourselves."

I thought to myself, Ashley Barnum is a cheater. I closed
the drawer and ran back to the cloud bed. I dove headfirst
into the fluff and felt my heart beating like crazy. Ashley
Barnum is a cheater!

When Ashley came back she was the same as always.
Big smile, not a care in the world. I sat on the bed crosslegged and watched her while she put the food tray down
on the rug and laid out napkins.

She looked up at me. "What?"

"Nothing," I said. Because what else was I going to say?
So, anyway, I was snooping through your stuff. And I found
your Cliffs Notes.

Ashley said, "Hungry?"

I didn't know if I was hungry or not, but I nodded.
"Smells good," I said.

She said, "Let's eat."

After we'd been shoveling food in for a while, Ashley
stopped eating and wiped her mouth with a square of napkin. "If my mother saw me right now she'd kill me."

I swallowed a mouthful of ice cream. "How come?"

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen my mother eat?
It's nothing but celery sticks and cottage cheese all day."

What I was thinking was, How could I see your mother
eat? Your mother's never home. What I said was, "She must
get hungry."

Ashley shrugged. She picked up a waffle and folded it
in half before she stuffed it in her mouth. A glob of chocolate sauce stuck to her upper lip like a mustache. She
swallowed the last of the Diet Coke in her glass. "Come
on," she said. "If we wait too long we won't be able to get
it all out."

I stood up and followed Ashley down the hall to the
bathroom where there are two sinks right next to each
other. We stuck our fingers down our throats at the same
time. You wouldn't believe how fast and bubbly everything
comes up if you drink a lot of Diet Coke first.

The whole time we were doing it I was thinking about
what Trish said. Making yourself throw up is a sign that
something else is wrong.

When we were finished we cleaned out the sinks with
cleanser and sprayed peach air freshener all over.

"I feel so much better," Ashley said. "Don't You, Isabelle?

My head nodded yes, but other parts of me were saying No! Like my throat, which hurt. And my eyes, which
wouldn't stop watering.

"I feel great!" Ashley said, rinsing her hands in the
sink, rubbing a blob of toothpaste over her teeth.

She feels great. Great! I took a quick look at Ashley's
face to see what I could see. Her mouth was smiling, all
right.

The thing is, if you just look at a person's mouth you
can be fooled. What you have to do is look at their eyes.
That's where the truth is. And with Ashley, the eyes
weren't saying Great!, I can tell you that.

THE NEXT MORNING, WHEN I GOT HOME from
Ashley's, Aunt Weezy was there. She and my mother were
sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. They were
dressed alike, cardigans over khakis, except Weezy had on
her little drop earrings.

My mother was even wearing makeup. Mascara, blush,
and pink lipstick-bright pink, like some pushy saleslady
got her to buy it. Her hair was smoothed back into a headband, lavender, to match her sweater.

For a second I thought maybe I'd walked into someone else's house, but there was Ape Face in her pj's, slurping
on a bowl of Cheerios. When she saw me she waved with
her spoon, sending a spray of milk through the air.

My mother waved too, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be up early on a Saturday
morning, drinking coffee, dressed as Weezy's clone.

Weezy smiled and said, "Good morning, Isabelle."

I looked from my mother to Weezy and hack again.
"Good morning," I said.

My mother said, "Are you hungry, sweetie? We've got
bagels."

"Okay," I said, and went on to butter myself a poppy
seed bagel, because actually I was starving.

At Ashley's house, she made a gigantic breakfast,
enough for the whole eighth grade, but I didn't feel like
eating. When I looked at it, all I could think about was
that we would have to throw it up after. I told Ashley I had
to he home early, I didn't have time to eat.

I could tell she was upset, but she pretended not to he.

"I'm really sorry I can't stay, Ashley," I said. "I would if
I could. It's just that I promised I'd be home by-"

"That's okay, Isabelle." Ashley smiled and shook her
head like it was no big deal. "My brothers will he up soon,"
she said. "They'll he hungry."

But I knew that after I left she would eat it all herself.

I was glad to be here in my own kitchen, eating a
bagel.

Ape Face said, "Doesn't Mom look pretty, Isabelle?"

I swallowed a big bite. "Uh-huh." To my mother I said,
"Why are you all dressed up?"

Weezy reached over to pour her clone more coffee. "Your mother and I are going out," she said, "for some
quality sister time."

I thought, quality and sister should not be used together in the same sentence.

My mother said, "You don't mind holding down the
fort, do you Isabelle? Looking after your sister?"

I took another bite of bagel, shrugged.

Ape Face said, "I don't need looking after."

I said, "I don't think I'm strong enough to actually hold
down the fort. This is one big fort we've got here. This fort
1S-

Aunt Weezy leaned over and pinched my arm, gently.

"Okay," I said.

Aunt Weezy patted my hand, smiled.

Me and Ape Face sitting at the kitchen table. Quality sister time.

"Mom looked weird," I said, "with all that makeup on.
Like a clown."

"I think she looked nice," said Ape Face.

"You would."

"Aunt Weezy did it all. The clothes and the makeup,
everything. She did her hair. Didn't her hair look nice,
Belle?"

"It looked like a helmet."

Ape Face snickered. "It kind of did."

"I know."

Ape Face bent over and picked a Cheerio up off the
table with her tongue, like a lizard. She does things like
that, gross things. Like flipping her eyelids inside out
and burping the alphabet. Things that make you want to smack a person upside the head. "I'm glad she's going
out though," Ape Face said. "Maybe she'll come home
happy."

"Right," I said.

I watched Ape Face tongue another Cheerio, chew it
with her mouth wide open. Before she could do it a third
time I picked up all the strays on the table and threw them
in a bowl.

"Hey!" she said.

"Hay is for horses, but grass is much cheaper. You want
help with your stupid family tree project or what?"

Finding the photos was easy. We just looked under her
bed, in a big cardboard box marked "Jacob." If she didn't
want us to find them, it wasn't a very good hiding place.

"Well," said Ape Face, "I guess she didn't throw them
out after all."

We took off our shoes, climbed up on Mom's bed,
which was made for a change, with clean sheets. Probably
Aunt Weezy did that.

Right away Ape Face reached into the box and started
yanking out clumps of photos with both hands.

"Don't!" I said. "You'll mess them up!" I wanted us to
take our time, look at each picture together. Slowly. When
a person dies and you suddenly find his pictures, that's
how it is.

"Sorry," said Ape Face. "I just want to see them so
had."

"You think I don't?" I pulled the box toward me. "Let's
do them one at a time."

"Okay." Ape Face moved over next to me so our elbows were touching, which would usually hug me but
didn't for some reason.

We both sat so still, barely breathing, looking at every
photo. Mom and Daddy on the beach, tan and smiling,
holding umbrella drinks. Daddy on the ski slopes, goofy in
goggles. The four of us Lees eating hot dogs in the backyard.

When we got to the bottom of the pile, the last photo,
Ape Face leaned over and put her chin on my shoulder.
"I miss him, Isabelle. I still do, so much." Then, suddenly,
she pulled away. "Do You?"

"Of course!" I said. "God, April!"

"I know. It's just sometimes, you know, I don't know.
We never talk about him, so I think I'm the only one."

"Well, you're not."

We both got quiet for a second, looking down at the
pictures all spread out.

April picked one up-Daddy and Mom dancing-and
held it in her lap. "Do you cry ever?"

"Yes!"

"You do? When?"

"I don't know. When ... in my room and stuff, when
I'm alone. At night mostly."

"Really? Me too." She put her hand on my knee. "At
night in my room."

"Mom too." I started laughing then, not because it was
funny but because it was so stupid. "You cry in your room.
I cry in my room. Mom cries in Mom's room. And in the
morning everyone pretends like they never cried once in
their life. Like, `It's gonna be a great day, kids! Pass the
orange juice!"'

"I know!"

April put the picture hack in the pile. Then she
bounced up off the bed. "Come on, Isabelle. We have to
go.

"Go where?"

"Go get poster hoard and glue sticks and stun. And
some stickers. And ... You know, those markers that smell
like fruit."

"Okay, but I already got you poster hoard."

"You did?"

"Uh-huh. Two pieces, in case you mess up. Purple."

"You did? Purple?"

"Uh-huh. It's in my closet."

"You're the best sister, Isabelle. Seriously."

"Well," I said. "Not the best."

"Okay. Maybe not the best, but close."

Mom walked in the door carrying two bags of groceries.
"Oh, Isabelle. You already made dinner. Thank You."

I told her it wasn't me, it was her other daughter. Yessiree, we were in for a real treat. Spaghetti a la Ape Face.

I ran upstairs to Project Central. "Listen," I said,
"Mom's home. Put that somewhere she won't see it,
quick."

Ape Face slid the photos and poster hoard under her
bed.

In the kitchen, Mom was pouring milk into glasses,
which seemed to match with her Aunt Weezy outfit.
What didn't match was her face, pale and pinched looking.

She turned on the smile for dinner though, as usual. "How was your day? No fighting, no biting, I hope."

"No fighting, no biting," said Ape Face. "Right, Isabelle?"

"Right," I said. Almost the truth, if you don't count the
two swears I called her and the glue stick she threw at my
head. This is what happens when Ape Face refuses to use
a pencil and starts right in with the markers like an idiot.
Lucky for her I bought two pieces of poster board.

"How was your day?" I asked my mother.

"Nice."

"Nice?" said Ape Face. "That's it?"

"No, it was ..." Mom twirled a forkful of spaghetti, set
it down again. "It was lovely. I guess I'm just tired from all
the walking around we did." She looked at us and smiled.
"I'm fine though."

I so much did not want to hear the words tired or fine
anymore. My mother needed to come up with some new
words for her vocabulary. Preferably some that weren't lies.

I wanted to scream at her, but I managed to keep my
voice calm. "Mom," I said, "April and I were talking, and
we really want to celebrate Hanukkah this year. It's been
two years since we celebrated, and we miss it."

My mother picked up a napkin off the table and folded
it in half. Then in quarters. Then in eighths.

"Mom?" I said.

She continued busily folding until there was nothing
left to fold, until it was just a tiny napkin stub. Then she
picked up another napkin.