Perfectly Messy (21 page)

My eyes burn. “I know you love me. Thank you. But, I’m telling the truth. That didn’t happen. Those photos are doctored.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? So you believe me?”

“I’d be a fool not to. You’re my brother and you’ve never given me reason to doubt you before.” Like an injection of drugs, her words give me a bit of peace and confidence.

“Thanks.” I give her a little nudge. “Now if only Mom and Dad can realize that too.”

“So if they aren’t real. What did happen?”

My face heats as I tell her everything. It’s uncomfortable to share how Lucy and I made out on the stairs, on the bed, and how my shirt did come off but her tank top stayed on. About how she bent down to tie her shoe, and how I stretched backward, just as someone must have been waiting with their camera to catch an incriminating shot.

That was it.

She doesn’t move much as she takes it in.

“Lucy’d tell you the same story.”

“How’s Lucy handling everything?”

“I have no idea. She won’t tell me.”

“Maybe the school doesn’t know about it?” she offers.

“No, trust me. I’ve gotten tons of texts. Everyone knows.”

She takes a deep breath. “Right. Well, let’s figure this out. First, you’ve got to tend to the more immediate needs of Lucy and our parents. Then there’s the big stuff. Dad’s political image. Your image with your business and school.” Her words send cracks in the foundation beneath me. The painting business. Crap, The Hill House. They could pull my bid over this!

“And then there’s the whole fact that Lucy’s sixteen and you’re eighteen.”

“We didn’t even…They’re fake!”

“I know, I know. But the photographer could be charged with child pornography or something. I’m just saying we’ve got angles to work with. We need to find the photographer. Who would have a vendetta against you and Lucy?”

“Lucy’s ex-boyfriend isn’t smart enough to pull this off. Her ex-best friend was wasted in the other room.”

“Any enemies?”

At that exact moment, Paul steps out far down the hallway, opening up his phone, and it clicks.

“The entertainment guy. He could do this!” He’d have amazing access to photographers and Photoshop professionals.

“The reality-show guy?”

“Yes.” I fill her in on the donation, Paul’s insistence on my cooperation with the interview and showing up in Hawaii with the contract.

“Well,” she brushes off her skirt and stands up, “it’s a place to start. I’ll do some research with my lawyer before we present it to Mom and Dad.”

“Your
lawyer
? Marc showed up for your fashion show, and then came out for BBQ with us. You went
home
with him. Call him what he is, your boyfriend.”

Tonya rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing serious… In the meantime, let’s focus on the stuff closest to you first. Lucy, her parents, and Mom and Dad.” She looks down at me. “You coming?”

“No, I need a little more time from that place. I’ll be back inside soon.”

“Okay. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks.”

She steps back into the room as Alex slides out. He only notices me after he shuts the door, before trying to yank it open again. I reach up, grabbing him by the waist of his pants, and pull him down next to me.

“We need to talk.”

“Fine,” he sulks.

“Did you see Lucy at school?”

“Yeah.”

“Was she okay?”

“Would you be?” he snaps back. He reaches into his back pocket, taking out a wad of paper and handing it to me. “I collected these from the guys’ locker room.” He slaps the printed photos into my hand and my gut turns. Wow, Luke wasn’t kidding when he said they were everywhere. He glares at me, searching for something.

“The photos are fake, Alex.”

“You really expect me to believe that? I’m sorry, but you’re such a hypocrite. After that lecture you give me New Year’s morning, and you did this that exact night?” He scratches his nose. “How am I supposed to…”

“What, dude?”

His eyes meet mine again. “Nothing. I can’t believe you gave me
growing up
advice about self-image, drinking, and sex when you’ve been doing this stuff with Lucy.”

“Okay, first of all, Lucy is it for me. I’m not with a new girl every other week like you’ve been doing. Second of all, I respect Lucy. Third, the photos are fake.” I take him by the shoulder. “I’d own up to you if they were real, Alex. I promise you that. And fourth, I’m eighteen. You’re fifteen. Comparing the two is not the same.”

“They’re really fake?”

“Yes. Fake. Some creep Photoshopped these. I swear.”

“Looks like you.”

“Argh. It is me. They edited her back to look bare.” I take a deep breath, then explain the entire scenario to him. How many times will I have to tell people about one of the most private but best moments with Lucy ever? It sucked that it isn’t ours anymore.

“Okay, well, if they really are fake, then you should know Lucy spent the afternoon hiding in the janitor’s closet with Marissa.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I saw them both sneak in at different times of the day.” He shrugs. “Ever since Lucy told me about that closet at the end of the summer, I’ve watched it.”

“Why?”

“Something to do. It gives me a chance to play hero and encourage other kids when everything else I did felt wrong.” He stares at the plain wall in front of us. I wait for more, but he doesn’t offer anything up.

“Why would she be with Marissa?” I ask out of curiosity, but also to help him through his thoughts. Lucy never told me much of what happened the night with Marissa after the party, but I can’t imagine they bonded. Not with what Marissa did to her this summer.

“Dude, I saw Lucy’s face today. You didn’t. She’s pretending to be strong, but she’s a mess. Marissa’s a total mess. Misery in company.”

“I can’t believe she’s with Marissa when she won’t even answer my calls.”

“Maybe she’s trying to hide how bad it hurts?”

“Why would she hide that from me?”

“Because you’re perfect?”

“I’m not perfect.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “You know you are.”

If only he knew how much stuff I’m trying to juggle at the same time to keep everyone happy. Or if he knew how I resist my natural impulse when asked a question to snap and tell people to go away. Well, everyone but Lucy. The only thing that stresses me out with her is how much I suck with finding time to be near her.

“I’m far from perfect. I could and should be much better.”

“Nah,” he sucks in a deep breath. “That’s your flaw, man.” I cock an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “You’re trying your best for everyone else. You want to meet everyone’s expectations but your own. Where are your priorities?”

“Where they’ve always been,” I say, frustrated. “Family—Lucy included—school, and work.”

Alex’s eyes drop to study the carpet. “You never asked me about when Sally and I broke up.”

My gut sinks and my heart smacks to the floor.

Family. My priority.

His eyes meet mine, moist. “You haven’t called me in ages, man.” He shakes his head. “The only time we’ve spent together this year is when you dragged me to your house last week when I was drunk.” He holds up his hands. “I’m not blaming you for my stupid decisions. I knew what I was doing when I made them. It was easier than trying to live up to your life. It sucked when you stopped caring about me. I know Jackson’s gone, but you’re a brother to me and it sucks that it’s not the other way around.”

The impact of his words hits me like a freight train. I failed him. We sit together silent for a while. Finally, I find my voice. “Alex, I’m sorry. You’ve always been my younger brother. I’ve never dragged anyone drunk home from a party before and stayed up all night cleaning up their puke.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I elbow him, “and you’re probably the only guy I’d ever care enough about to do it for again. Don’t try to live a life like mine. Be yourself. That’s all I want for you.”

He smiles back at me, and I know we’re good.

“So, Sally? What happened there?”

“She broke up with me because I got a big head.”

“So, you just continued to let it inflate?”

He stretches his arms across his chest. “It was a lot easier than trying to correct my mistakes. But easier isn’t better, we both know that, right?” Alex says and for the first time all day my heart feels hope. The weight that’s been between us the past few months lifts a bit.

“Yes. Definitely.”

“So,” he nods towards the front door on the other end of the hall. “Are you going to stick with Uncle Jeff’s agenda tonight? Or ditch it for Lucy?”

Now, that’s Alex. When he’s himself, he’s simply awesome. He’s right. It’s wrong that I’m still here. Why respect my dad when he doesn’t respect me? No wonder Lucy hasn’t responded to my texts or calls.

He kicks my shoe. “You’re eighteen, man. You don’t have to be here.” He nods back to the door. “Hell, no one in that room wants you around anyway. Just go.” He stands up and extends a hand, pulling me off the ground. “Be the guy you want to be. Not the guy everyone else wants, okay?”

“Thanks, Alex,” I say as I take off down the hall. “I owe you a future reality check.”

“Consider it even, man. Now run!”

Lucy

He’s not here. Marissa rolls her eyes at me as she catches me looking for him at the South door. We didn’t say much in the closet after I turned the light back off. There was mostly silence and a lot of tears. She followed me to the game though, making sure I made it. Nice, I guess? I still don’t know what to make of it.

McKenzie passes me the ball. The gym door opens as I release it from my hands. Is it him?

No.

Brick shot, off the backboard.

Someone boos from the crowd. Jaclyn wraps her arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Lucy, you’ve got to get over today. Please, get your head in the game. We need you. We’re dying here.”

“Right, sorry.” I rub my eyes, hating myself for being so weak. I used to be able to play basketball with my entire team hating me. Now, I can’t even sink an easy jump shot. Being called a slut isn’t new. I’ve played with those names sneered down my back before. Without Justin here, it’s like I can’t function.

And that scares me. It’s not right.

A ball flies toward my head and I duck. Crap. That was supposed to be a pass.

“TIME OUT.” Coach T’s voice booms from the sideline. “Zwindler, outside, now.” He steps through the gym door that leads to the locker room. I follow, though I’d rather drink shards of glass.

“What’s wrong out there?” he says with a brash tone.

“Bad day.”

“Well, your bad day is ruining us. I’m well aware that you’ve had bad days before, but that’s never stopped you.”

“I know.” The cracks in the steps below my feet look like spiderwebs.

He yanks at the whistle around his neck. “Don’t lose this for us, Zwindler. It’s the division championship game. Don’t you want to go to State?”

“Of course I do.”

He steps toward me and the stench of his BO is overwhelming. “Then don’t let the fact you’re a slut ruin everything.” His words sting my cheek as he steps out the door.

Everything in my writhes. I hate him. He’s the worst coach and human being I’ve ever met. Why the heck am I even playing for him again?

Because Justin made me.

No, he didn’t make me. He just helped me see how much I missed basketball. I was delusional to think playing with Coach T again would be worth it. He called me a slut! I’m such an idiot. With Justin and Alex, sure, basketball was fun. Why did I think this year could be different? Over the summer, Justin and Alex always made basketball a blast. It’s not like they are ever around when I play now.

Wait, who am I doing this for?

Screw Coach T.

I’m done.

I fly down the stairs to the locker room. I plow through the door, tearing my jersey off.

“Hey, watch it.”

I jump, turning towards the voice. Marissa pulls my sweaty jersey off her head.

“Nice,” she says, tossing it back at me.

I turn my back to her. I know we had a moment in the closet, but I can’t deal with her right now. Not with everything she’s done to me. My fingers struggle to remember my locker combo with Marissa’s eyes on my back.

“Lucy.” Marissa taps her toe on the concrete floor.

“WHAT?” The word flies harshly out of my mouth. That toe tap ruled my life last year. I’m so over being treated like that.

Marissa holds her hands up. “Sorry,” she says, which receives a huge eye roll from me.
Yeah, right.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Where I belong. I’m done with this.”

She leans against the locker next to mine as my fingers finally remember the combo. “Lucy, I think you’re making the wrong decision. You belong up there.”

An absurd laugh flies from my mouth. “I belong up there? Marissa, you were the one who convinced me to give up basketball.”

“I was wrong,” she says quietly, which makes me stop and actually look at her. “Come on. Obviously, I was wrong. Look at my life right now. It’s horrid.”

I nod; no use arguing that.