Perfectly Flawed (39 page)

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks, slowing
our pace before he gets to the Home locker room. I snuggle further
into his side, not happy with our impromptu separation, mostly
because he’s warm and I can see my breath whenever I speak.

“I’ll be fine—I’m not going to sleep any time
soon,” I reassure him. “I’ll be great,” I lie, forcing the
confidence. I still don’t like football and would rather be
anywhere else, but this means a lot to him, my being here. What he
likes, I’ll try to like for him.

He smiles at me, leaning closer with a
destination I hope we both share. His lips are almost to mine when
we hear, “You two are
so
cute.”

Kennie.

Perfect timing
.

“We try,” I call out, watching her walk
toward us, her hand linking her to her boyfriend, Duke. “Hey,
Duke,” I call. He waves to me with his free hand. He’s dressed
significantly warmer than I am and I see my mistake in only one
sweatshirt. I should be wearing my entire closet to keep me
warm.

“Hey, man,” Zephyr says when they get closer.
They do their complicated handshake thing I still don’t understand
while Kennie and I stand there awkwardly.

“I forgot you two know each other,” Kennie
says. Sometimes, she fits the blonde stereotype perfectly; I just
want to pat her on the head.

Duke looks to her, a little taken aback. “I
only graduated last year, babe,” Duke tells her.

“We also hung out during Homecoming, Kennie,”
I remind her. Recognition covers her face, as does a light blush.
She’s going to need a minute to recover, here. “How’s school?” I
ask Duke, remembering that he attends Eastern Washington University
over near Spokane.

“Going good,” he says with a nod. “I decided
to pay my girl a visit this weekend before the snow clogs up the
pass.”

“Isn’t he great?” Kennie beams, clutching
onto her boyfriend’s arm with a gloved hand. It finally got cold
enough, for Alexia’s standards, that the squad now wears their
sweats and jackets over their uniform. At least Kennie won’t freeze
tonight. That makes one of us, really.

“He’s something,” I respond, smiling.

Kennie sticks out her tongue. I respond the
same before we start laughing.

A car door slams behind us and,
instinctively, I turn to see who’s joining the party. I spot the
blonde hair before I make the connection.

Ryder.

He walks across the courtyard, his duffel bag
in hand, as he aims straight for the locker room door. He only
looks forward, never bothering to acknowledge us, like we’re
invisible. It’s a good thing, too, because I’d point out his
still-bruised eye. Now it’s a lovely shade of vomit green. It suits
him; sometimes I think the other needs to match.

It’s a great image in my mind.

“Hey,” Duke yells to him, leaving Kennie to
go talk to the bruised blonde as he passes. Duke catches up,
following Ryder through the door as they start a conversation.

“I forgot about him,” I mutter, shaking where
I stand from the cold. It’d be so easier if Ryder were just gone.
Like, far, far away. I should tell him Pluto’s nice this time of
year. He can take Alexia.

Zephyr spots the shudder, shrugging off his
jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders, encasing me in more
warmth.

“Again, so adorable,” Kennie confirms, her
smile wide.

Zephyr playfully rolls his eyes, kissing me
quickly before he follows through the door, leaving me to talk with
Kennie.

“Sorry about him,” Kennie begins, mentioning
her boyfriend. “He’s friends with Ryder,” she explains.

“Why should I care about that?” I ask,
following her to the stands as she begins to stretch and warm up,
doing a few flips to get her blood flowing. “Ryder can be friends
with whomever he wants, who am I to stop him?” I cross my arms
along my chest.

Kennie nods, seeming to understand. That’s
all I can ask from her.

We talk more before she needs to head to the
field. Duke walks out from the locker room and joins me in the
bleachers. I lazily watch the game with my head resting in my hand,
continuously tugging down the knit beanie I threw on at the last
minute before leaving my house while Duke tries to explain the game
to me. It’s colder than it was during the Homecoming game. I don’t
care—or I really shouldn’t care—I’m here to support Zephyr, and
this is enough to make me happy even if the game does bore me and
my limbs freeze off. I have Duke here to help me know when the play
is in our favor. We hit a few touchdowns, but I don’t join in the
celebration.

Until it’s Zephyr making the touchdown.

When he runs into the end zone, I’m the first
one jumping up and down, tugging on Duke, and screaming the
loudest. No one is more proud than I am. Even when he’s
pathetically dancing.

That’s my guy!

Halftime rolls around and I’m talking to
Kennie, mocking Alexia—who makes it abundantly clear she’s back
together with Ryder, like I’d care. During the second half, I text
Harley, waiting for the game to end.

When it does end—thank God! We won, by the
way—I’m the first one down the stairs, waiting by the locker room
door for Zephyr to emerge and take me home. Also, I need to show my
love that he got a touchdown. Kennie and Duke wait with me, keeping
me company when Ryder passes with Alexia attached to him at the
lips as if she were a fish sucking algae from the wall of a fish
tank. Such a lovely sight if you ask me.

My boyfriend—I
love
saying that—walks
out, dropping his bag on the ground to wrap me in a tight hug. I
barrel into him.

“I’ll see you both later,” Kennie says with a
giggle as she and her boyfriend leave us.

Zephyr lifts me from the ground, a wide smile
on his face when he takes a good look at me.

“What’s this about?” I ask, holding on for
dear life to make sure I don’t fall, or worse, he drops me. He’s
not that klutzy, I just prefer the ground to air most of the
time.

Nothing, just you,” he tells me. Zephyr
lowers me to the ground slowly, holding onto me to make sure I
don’t fall, steadying me before we start walking to his car. It
sounds like overkill, but the guy is a foot taller than I am. I’m a
tiny girl. One false move, one wrong fall, and I’m in crutches.
“Does Aunt Hil work tonight?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “I’m home alone again,
tonight.” I exaggerate a pout. Honestly, I don’t mind it. It
happens a lot, I’m used to it. She’s a busy woman.

“No you’re not,” he states, matter-of-factly,
closing the door behind me after I slide into the passenger seat.
What an awkward way to leave me, dude.

I think for a moment as he rounds the car. He
can’t possibly mean that he’ll spend the night. For one thing,
isn’t it a bit soon for that? I’m uncomfortable with the idea of
Zephyr staying the entire night. We’ve done it before, but not in a
while, not since we were kids, and Jamie was always there.

Zephyr slides into the car, inserting the key
into the ignition. “You don’t have to do that,” I tell him as he
starts the car.

“You remember that night when I woke you up
from that nightmare that had you screaming bloody murder?”
How
could I forget, dude
? He shoots a pointed glare in my
direction.

“Of course,” I mutter quietly, lowering my
gaze. I try not to think about it, it’s too embarrassing.

“I would’ve stayed with you the entire night
then had you not kicked me out.” He flicks the turn signal, going
left. The tiny
click, click, click
the only sound in the
car. “Even if we weren’t what we are, I’d stay with you. So I’ll be
over at your house tonight.” He shoots me a smile.

And he was.

We sat on my bed, trying to figure out what
we were going to do. I’m not sure if I could let him, you know…
sleep
in
my bed. Earlier was one thing, I didn’t fully
intend to fall asleep even though I did, but through the entire
night? I don’t know about that.

“How are we going to do this?” I ask
nervously, folding my hands together in my lap.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he answers.

We’re sitting farther apart than usual.
There’s at least two feet of space between us. It seems when we
start thinking about sleeping in the same bed, even the same
room—and I’ll admit that I’m thinking about it right now even
though it scares the shit out of me—we freak ourselves out.

“I mean, you could… my bed, but then… and
how… and you…” I stutter, trailing off, too scared to finish my
thought. I think my palms are sweating.

Zephyr’s expression changes, his eyes light
up and he gets an idea. “I’ve got it.” He stands and leaves my
room, leaving the door open and me wondering what he’s doing.

“Where’re you going?” I call after him,
listening to him open and close various doors in the hallway.
Random…

He walks back in, carrying a large box I
vaguely remember from my childhood. He drops it in the center of
the room and pops it open. All I see is black.

“I remembered this thing from the nights you,
Jamie, and me would camp out in your living room because no one
trusted us to
actually
pitch a tent in the backyard.” I
remember that.

Back when we were kids, Hilary had the
brilliant idea for us to go camping. When that dream died—all
adults became too busy—we wanted to camp in the backyard and
pretend that we were some place different and cool. Molly and my
aunt wouldn’t go for that so we decided to
camp out
in the
living room. My aunt even bough an air mattress to make it seem
authentic. All we really did was watch television and ate junk
food, it wasn’t the greatest camping experience we wanted, but it’d
do. When it was time for bed, Jamie and I would commandeer the air
mattress, making Zephyr sleep on the couch.

Good times.

I nod, finally, watching him yank the thick
rubber thing from the box. “That should work then,” I tell him.

“My thoughts exactly,” he remarks, setting up
the mattress right next to my bed and letting the air pump do its
thing, albeit slowly.

“I haven’t thanked you for this yet,” I tell
him after we’ve fallen into a comfortable silence, both of us
watching the air mattress slowly inflate. I forgot how slow the
thing is. At this rate, we should be able to sleep in an hour or
two.

“No need to thank me.” He wraps an arm around
me, pulling me closer to him. I believe this is my favorite thing
in the world.

“I do,” I tell him, “have to thank you.” I
lean my head against his shoulder. “You have to deal with your
crazy, psycho girlfriend with serious mental issues; I have plenty
to thank you for, Zephyr.”

I feel Zephyr’s body shake as he laughs. He
kisses the top of my head. “Your hair smells great,” he tells me,
ignoring everything I just said which only makes me smile.

“You smell great,” I counter, mumbling into
his shirt, smelling the woodsy scent of his soap.

I look up, smiling widely. He returns the
smile, leaning down to kiss me lightly on the lips, the familiar
chaste kiss we’ve grown used to. I’d say that’s better, given that
we’re in my room, on my bed. Don’t want to start anything heated,
do we?

After the mattress inflates—forty-five
minutes minutes later, we get dressed for bed, me in my room, him
in the hallway—I told him he could change in the bathroom like a
normal person, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I click off the
overhead light, leaving my lamp on briefly, the yellow light
illuminating the odd scene in my room.

I haven’t had a sleepover in years.

“Good night, Jo,” Zephyr tells me as he
relaxes into the mattress, his every move making a weird rubber
creak. I can’t help but giggle.

“Night,” I reply, quickly adding, “I’ll leave
the window open,” in a light whisper.

“Me too.”

A light breeze blows through the window,
ruffling the floral drapes hanging open. It brushes across my face,
filling the room with the scent of rain. It’s going to rain
soon.

***

Air blows through the window, the one I left
open last night—something I’ve grown used to with Zephyr on the
other side of the alley. The feeling of air streaming through the
window cools me, calms me, and I take a deep breath, savoring a
night of real sleep, a night free of nightmares. Oh, sweet baby
Jesus, there’s nothing I love more than that.

One shift of my hand—which dangles over the
edge of the bed—and I can feel Zephyr’s hand in mine, tightening
when I move, refusing to release me for anything.

I smile, happy to be where I am.

“What’s going on here?” asks a voice, cutting
into my subconscious, startling me fully awake. The voice sounds
confused, worried, a little angry, and…

Hilary?

Happy? Maybe I spoke too soon. There’s no way
my aunt could be happy with finding a boy in my room. At least he’s
not in my bed.

I slowly peel my eyes open, hoping that,
perhaps, I imagined the voice. That’s possible. I’m crazy. I could
be having a mental breakdown or something—this wouldn’t be the
first time I’ve hoped for that. But when my eyes land on the
familiar green pair staring back at me, I know I’m sane, and that’s
upsetting. Standing in the doorway, her exhaustion apparent as she
holds her hands on her hips, she’s staring at me… and at Zephyr.
Oops.

“Uh,” I start, leaning up on my elbows and
letting Zephyr’s hand drop back to the air mattress. “Sleeping?” I
respond, plastering a smile on my face as my cheeks begin to heat
in a blush.

“I can see that.” The sound makes Zephyr
stir. He rolls over, moaning with sleepiness, until his eyes land
on the pair staring at him. She forces a tight-lipped smile, her
chapped-lips a thin like. “Why is Zephyr, your
boyfriend
,
sleeping on an air mattress on your floor when I suspect—I mean, I
don’t
know
—he has a very nice bed
in his own
room
”—she points to the window—“over there?”