The Perfect Guy (Books We Love Young Adult Romance) Page 11
"Me?" I took a shaky breath and tried not to faint.
"Sure. Celeste and I had been just friends. In fact, I only thought of her as Josh’s sister. Then we started the play." Pres blushed. "We began seeing each other in a new light. The love scene you wrote for us clinched it. When I was kissing Alicia the first time we rehearsed the scene and I found myself wishing she were Celeste, well, that's when I knew Celeste was the one for me. You’re a regular matchmaker, Rebecca."
"Me?" I knew I was repeating myself, but it was all I could do as the force of thirty-two shades of red washed over me from head to toe.
"Yes." Pres exclaimed. "Not only do I have a wonderful girlfriend, but I have a great sister too. I don’t think I realized, until I had you here, just how great it would be to have a sister, especially one who’d also lost a parent. I think you understand my feelings. I’m lucky. Probably too lucky."
I wasn’t sure how many more surprises I could absorb, but I couldn’t let Pres’s remark go by. "What do you mean, ‘too lucky’?"
"Well, I have a lot going for me, a lot of skills. But not as many as people credit me with. Everyone assumes I’m a leader. I get elected student body president without even trying because everyone thinks I’d be good at it. The other officers and members are the ones who get things done. I just pound my gavel from time to time. I guess you could say I’ve played the role of a leader."
Pres paused before continuing. "One of the nice things about Celeste is that she accepts me as I am, less than perfect. It’s the same with you. Nothing like living with a kid sister to keep a guy honest."
"M-me?" I stuttered again. I wished I could think of a more original response.
"Sure. You see me at less than my best. Looking a wreck in the morning or in a towel with water dripping down my face. Shutting out your mother … I’m sure you have no illusions about me."
"Well." I gulped. "Maybe I had one or two."
Pres laughed. "See? Even now you don’t take me too seriously."
"Just serious enough to tell you how much I appreciate having you for a brother." I breathed a sigh of relief. I could see him as a brother now. I could love him as one as well.
"It’ll be nice knowing you and Celeste like me as I really am, when I’m away at college, where I’ll be starting over with new friends. I won’t have my high school image to live up to. Once I’m there maybe I can say out loud that what I really want to be is an actor."
"An actor?" Funny, nothing surprised me at this point. "So why not say it here and now, if that’s what you really want?"
"I don’t know. I think Dad will be disappointed."
"I know it will be difficult for you, but I think you should talk to him about it." Listen to me, the voice of experience. "I bet he’d be proud. Look how he reacted to me and the play."
"Well, maybe. I might say something. After a few semesters."
"I guess you’ll know when the time is right for you," I said. "But don’t take too long."
"I’ll try not to," Pres said. Then he hugged me. "I’m glad you’re my sister."
I clung to him for a moment. I liked being in his arms. It made me feel safe and warm and loved. It was a comfortable feeling, and I cherished it. But I realized that the feeling was definitely brotherly. He didn’t make me feel the way Josh did lately. I gave Pres one last squeeze. "I’m glad we had this talk. But I’ve got to run now. I have, uh, a couple of things I have to do."
"That’s okay. I’ve got to shower and shave." Pres rubbed his chin. "I’m seeing Celeste this afternoon."
"Oh. Well. I’d better get going." I gave Pres a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried to my room where I slumped down on my bed. A blade of pain pricked at my heart at the mention of Celeste’s name. Though I knew we’d never be friends again, I’d have to attempt some sort of reconciliation with her. She was not only Pres’s girlfriend; she was Josh’s sister too. We’d be seeing a lot of each other, like it or not, especially if there was indeed something between Josh and me.
I dressed quickly and slipped quietly down the stairs and out the back door. I didn’t want Pres to know I was going to see Celeste. He’d only wonder why I didn’t just say so, and I certainly didn’t want to explain how painful it was going to be.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun streaming through the maple trees lining the street failed to make the thought of my task any easier. As I approached Gramma’s driveway, I hesitated. Celeste was in her driveway, washing the family van. Seeing her, I was not so sure I had the nerve to talk to her. It would be easy enough to walk up to Gramma’s house instead.
Before I could decide what to do, Celeste looked up and spotted me. I could still walk up Gramma’s driveway. But what would that solve? I had to talk to Celeste sometime. In person. I took a deep breath and headed toward the Sullivan’s house.
"Hi," I said. I stuffed my hands in my pockets. It was weird feeling awkward with Celeste.
"Hello." Celeste did not look up as she rubbed a soapy sponge across the hood of the van.
I glanced toward the house, wondering if Josh was inside, wondering if he had any idea what I was going to discuss with his sister. "Do you mind ... do you mind if we talk?"
"No." Celeste still didn’t look at me. "If you recall, last night I wanted to talk to you."
So, Celeste wasn’t going to make it easy for me. I guess I didn’t blame her. I fumbled for words, trying to figure out how to begin, what to say. "Look, I, uh, it’s obvious you and Pres … care a great deal for each other."
"Yes, we do." There was a softer tone to Celeste’s voice. She stole a peek at me as she tossed the sponge into a bucket of water. "I didn’t plan it." She picked up the hose, adjusted the spray nozzle, and started rinsing off the van. "It just happened."
"I see." I decided not to press Celeste for exactly when it just happened for her. If I was going to maintain any sort of relationship with her, no matter how difficult, it would be best to assume she fell for Pres the same time he fell for her. It would seem like less of a betrayal that way.
"It happened over a long period of time." Celeste turned off the hose and faced me. "Pres was always around, playing basketball in the driveway or having a catch out back with Josh. At first I just thought of him as a nice guy, one of Josh’s friends. And, of course, you’d selected him for your Prince Charming, so, naturally, I had no intention of thinking of him romantically."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Then why were you always trying to convince me that things wouldn’t work out the way I’d hoped for me and Pres?"
"Because I knew that no one, not even Pres, could ever live up to that ideal you’d created. It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to you. You were closing yourself off from any other guy who might want to go out with you."
"Oh, right," I snapped. "Get real. Guys were not exactly lining up to ask me out. I’m not you. I haven’t had hordes of boys flocking around me ever since junior high."
"That’s it, isn’t it? You were shy and confused when it came to guys way back in seventh grade and you were afraid no one would ever ask you out. So you dreamed up your Mr. Perfect and convinced yourself you couldn’t possibly settle for anyone less."
"No." I spun around, turning my back to Celeste. "That’s not true."
"Don’t get me wrong," she said. "I don’t think you consciously realized what you were doing. You worried that no one would ask you out, so you set your standards so high nobody dared ask you out. You scared them away. You were afraid of a real relationship, so you settled for a fantasy one."
"No!" I put my hands over my ears.
I wanted to run away. Something stopped me. As the cliché so succinctly puts it, the truth hurt. No one is perfect. I had set up impossible standards and I had kept guys at arm’s length. Why? Because I’d matured a little more slowly than the other girls? Because I hadn’t automatically learned to flirt by the first day of junior high? Because I’d discovered that the boys who’d been pals the year before suddenly made me nerv
ous and tongue-tied?
I dropped my hands to my sides and turned to look at Celeste. Tears pricked at my eyes. "You’re right," I said softly. "Forgive me?"
"I think we need to forgive each other." Celeste bit her lip. "I should have leveled with you as soon as I realized I was attracted to Pres. It would have saved us a lot of grief."
"Oh, Celeste." I reached out my hands to her. "Do you think we can still be friends?"
Celeste nodded, and next thing we were hugging and the tears I’d been holding back rolled down my face. Then I stood back and brushed away the tears. I couldn’t afford to lose any more time.
"Now that all that’s settled, I have to ask you about Josh." I smiled tentatively, hoping to disguise my nervousness. "Did you … does he know about my, uh, infatuation with Pres?"
"I think he figured everything out. Not because I discussed any of it with him, your feelings or mine, but because he’s an observant person."
"Unlike yours truly."
"Hey, don’t be down on yourself."
"I’m not." I squared my shoulders. "Where is Josh? I’d like to talk to him. I have a lot to explain. I sort of ran out on him last night."
I hoped I wouldn’t be too late. He’d be graduating soon and then maybe flying off to Oregon to play baseball, for all I knew.
"Let’s see." Celeste tapped her temple. "He went out. Didn’t say where, just that he needed to think. He left about a half an hour ago."
"Half an hour," I exclaimed. "He could be anywhere by—wait. He said he needed to think?"
"Yes." Celeste shrugged. "But I don’t know where—"
"That’s okay." I gave her a quick hug. "I think I have a good idea." I turned and ran, pausing for a second to wave goodbye. "See you later."
"You’d better." Celeste grinned. "I want to hear all the details."
I waved again and ran down the street. My heart pounded, not from running, but at the thought of finding Josh. Spots of dappled sunlight danced at my feet as I dashed along the sidewalk. I smiled when I ran past a cocker spaniel sniffing the grass as I cut across a corner of his yard.
I turned down Wharf Lane. Surely that’s where I’d find Josh. That’s where he would go to think.
I slowed to a trot as I neared the park overlooking the beach. I scanned the area for Josh, but I didn’t see him. If he wasn’t there, I didn’t know where else to start looking. Then I noticed a patch of blue in the grass. It was Josh’s jacket. I saw him sitting under a tree where he had a good view of the water.
I took a deep breath, crossed my fingers, and walked toward him. I moved slowly enough, I hoped, that my stomach would stop doing somersaults by the time I reached him. He was staring out at the water, so he didn’t notice me until I was standing next to him. He gave me a slight scowl.
"Hi," I said too cheerfully. "Mind if I pull up a spot of grass and sit down?"
"Suit yourself." He leaned back on his elbows. "How did you know where I was?"
"I asked Celeste."
"I didn’t tell her where I was going."
"She said you went somewhere to think. So naturally I headed for the park." I paused, hoping I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself. "Just what do you know about a big pink box of candy that I got for Valentine’s Day this year?"
"How did you ...?" Josh blushed. "I guess you know I sent it to you."
"I’m a little slow. It only took me the past few months to figure it out. In fact, Gramma spilled the beans when she found me in the attic last night and spotted the box. Of course, she thought I already knew all about it. What I don’t know is why you sent it."
He turned away, as if he was guarding a secret.
"I hope you sent it because you liked me." I held my breath, waiting for Josh’s response.
"Yes." He turned back. His mouth eased into a smile. "I liked you then. I like you now. A lot."
"Then why didn’t you sign the card that came with the Valentine candy?"
"I’d planned to give you the candy in person and tell you how I felt. Then I started thinking. We’ve always been such good friends," Josh explained. "I worried that our friendship would be ruined if I tried to inject a little romance and then you might want no part of it." He paused, then continued. "I guess I hoped you’d somehow realize I’d sent it, if you felt the same way about me."
"Oh, Josh." I threw my arms around him. It was time to stop dropping hints, and show him how I felt.
"Could this possibly mean you do feel the same way about me?" He took hold of shoulders, held me at arm’s length and looked into my eyes.
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes!"
"Redundant, but enthusiastic. I like that." He pulled me close again. I snuggled in his arms.
"I like this too," Josh said.
"So do I." I sighed. "To think how much time I wasted."
"What do you mean?"
"All along, when I could have had you, I wasted my time over a figment of my imagination."
"Oh?"
"I think you know." I looked up at Josh. "I could kick myself when I think how I wished and dreamed about love, when I could have been experiencing it."
"Maybe you did what was right for you. Maybe you weren’t ready for boyfriends and dates. Everybody’s different." He smiled. "Not everyone is cut out to emerge as a full-blown flirt by the age of twelve."
"I still think my timing was a little slow. If I hadn’t waited so long to realize my feelings about you, I would’ve been able to spend more time with you before I had to watch you graduate and fly off to Oregon."
"Whoa," said Josh. "I’m graduating, but who said anything about flying off to Oregon? I’m headed for New Haven. Remember—New Haven—it’s about a half hour drive along the turnpike?"
"But—but I thought when you talked to Brady Bailey—"
"All I did was talk to him. He didn’t make any offers."
"He didn’t?" I exclaimed. "Why on earth not?"
"Are you anxious to get rid of me?"
"Of —of course not," I sputtered. "But you’re so good at baseball."
"Yes." Josh laughed. "Me and a few thousand other guys. Brady Bailey was just taking a look at me. He didn’t cross me off his list, but he didn’t offer me a million dollar bonus to sign anything either. Especially after we talked and I emphasized how I was going to Southern and would also play American Legion baseball here each summer. He thought that was a good idea. He promised to look me up again."
"I see." I was glad Josh would be close by after he graduated, but still incensed that Mr. Bailey had been so blind to Josh’s abilities. "Surely he knows you could always postpone college."
"I don’t want to." Josh brushed a lock of hair off my face. "I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about the minor leagues, things like low salaries, decrepit stadiums, crummy hotels, seven-hour bus rides. It could be the road to oblivion instead of the major leagues."
"I could see why you wouldn’t want that," I said.
"Oh, I’m willing to face it some day when I’m older and have my college degree. Whether I make it to the major leagues or not, I’ll have several years to do something else with my life."
"Then staying in Connecticut and going to Southern is what you really want?" I asked.
"Yes. Actually, I hope to be a teacher someday. I was pretty good at teaching you to dance, if you recall."
"Oh, yes." I blushed. "Speaking of dancing, I’m sorry I ran off last night when you were dancing with Alicia. I was upset and confused, but it was still rude." I was surprised at how easily my bruised feelings had healed now that I was in Josh’s arms.
"No apologies necessary," Josh said. "But speaking of dancing, we should polish up our act for the graduation party. It’s only a couple of weeks away." Josh stood up and hummed in my ear and pulled me close as we gently swayed.
"The graduation party?" I’d actually forgotten all about it. Undoubtedly Pres would be there with Celeste. But that was all right. That was just fine.
"Yes, the g
raduation party."
"Oh, Josh." I sighed.
"Is that an acceptance?" Josh stopped swaying and bent me back as if we were Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dipping in a grand finale in one of those classic movies.
I nodded, and closed my eyes as my lips met Josh’s in a long kiss. I practically swooned. After all, I’d finally found my almost perfect guy.
The End
About the Author
Ann Herrick grew up in Connecticut, where she graduated from The Morgan School and Quinnipiac University. She now lives in Oregon with her husband, who was her high-school sweetheart. Their wonderful daughter is grown, married and gainfully employed, and has given Ann her only grand-dog, Puff, a bloodhound-rottweiller-beagle mix. While she misses the East Coast, especially houses built before 1900, she enjoys the green valleys, fresh air and low humidity in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. Ann loves cats, walking, the Oregon Ducks and working in her back yard. In addition to stories and books for children and young adults, Ann also writes copy for humorous and conventional greeting cards. She loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her web site: http://annherrickauthor.com
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