Her Perfect

by Walls, Stephie

  “Are you trying to get in trouble?” Dr. Paxton’s concern was misplaced.

  “In order to get in trouble, someone would have to be aware of what I was doing. Hell, they’d have to know where I was. And other than Caden, there’s not a solitary person here that remembers I even attended the festivities.” My words slurred just enough to give away my level of intoxication, although I believed I did a pretty good job of concealing it.

  He set the glass on the empty table in front of us and stepped back into my hideout with me. “Clearly that’s not true since I’m here.”

  “Did Caleb send you to warn me of my unladylike behavior? Or maybe the disrespect I was showing him and his bride on their wedding day?” My voice carried farther than I’d expected, and a couple glanced over their shoulders to see what was going on.

  Suddenly, Eli’s fingers wrapped around my bicep, and he hauled me away from the group and toward the back door I’d just come in. I struggled to keep up with him without falling on my face. His grip was tighter than I cared for, and I wasn’t interested in whatever lecture he’d been sent to impart. Dr. Paxton didn’t stop once the door closed behind us, although he did look around to see who might bear witness to our exchange and kept moving—dragging me—until there was no chance we’d have an audience.

  “What are you doing, Colbie? This isn’t like you.”

  I scoffed at his assumption and huffed as though he were clueless. “You don’t know me. Don’t pretend you do just because you and Caleb are attached at the hip.” My lip curled into a sneer at the same time I jerked my arm from his grasp.

  His fingers no longer made my heart soar or warmed my insides; they now felt as condemning as everyone else who had ever dared to touch me.

  “That’s not fair.” If he were hurt by my words, he didn’t allude to it. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I’m sure Chasity would have a field day finding you like this, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less you.”

  I sat in a sanctimonious show of disrespect. “Like you’re any better than they are.” My defenses reared their ugly heads—the wall went up to keep him out.

  Dr. Paxton sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before taking a seat next to me. With our backs to the patio, we were cloaked in shadows. He leaned up against the building and angled his legs toward me. I crossed my arms over my chest and pressed my knees together. While he appeared to be relaxed for a conversation between friends, I was defensive and ready for battle.

  “You’re different than the rest of your family.”

  Thank you, Captain Obvious. “A bit.”

  “Want to talk about it?” He reached out and touched my forearm with the back of his pointer finger.

  My traitorous body responded like it had on the dance floor. I didn’t pull back, and neither did he. His nail trailed slowly down to my wrist, and I watched with rapt attention, unable to focus on the question at bay. When he pulled back his hand, my gaze followed as though the world were proceeding in slow motion.

  “You know they love you, right?”

  I realized I’d never answered his last question. When I met his eyes again, the prickly agitation I’d held onto as he pulled me out the door vanished. And the rambling began. “They don’t know what to do with me. Ignoring me is the easiest way to address it.”

  “I’m sure it’s hard being the only girl.”

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  The silence lingered for what seemed an eternity while he waited for me to continue; although, in reality, it wasn’t more than a minute or so while I attempted to collect my thoughts. I wanted to believe I wasn’t interested in sharing with him, that no part of me desired to connect with him on a different level—the only problem was, every part of me wanted to connect with him on a level I’d never connected to anyone. Emotionally, physically, spiritually, and any other way I could.

  “I used to think I’d been adopted or switched at birth.”

  He snickered. “Had you never looked in a mirror?”

  “Sadly, that is the only irrefutable evidence I have. As far back as I remember—four maybe five years old—I didn’t fit in with them. It was more than just being the only girl, though.” My thoughts swam as I tried to organize them through the fog and my thick tongue. It took effort to speak when all I cared to do was memorize the way his mouth moved and how he moistened his lips.

  Dr. Paxton’s attention didn’t waver. His eyes studied mine, waiting for more—as though he needed my past like he needed water or air.

  “The years and additional brothers only compounded the already cataclysmic differences. By the time I was seven, I had given up trying to fit in. I remember sitting on a piano bench with my teacher, crying.”

  “About what?”

  “Even then, I believed the only way I’d ever get any of their attention was to be perfect.”

  “At the piano?”

  My eyes drifted from his mouth to his gaze in silence. And for a beat, I considered what he had asked and wondered if he’d get the significance of my answer. “Everything.” The pain I’d shared with Dr. Chalmers that day rushed back as though it took place in the present. “Being the best wasn’t enough. Great wouldn’t crack the surface. Exceptional was the only option.”

  The expression on his face shook me as profoundly as the fact that I’d willingly shared my most intimate secret with a man who had no business having this discussion. He didn’t interrupt or try to dissuade my perception. The only move he made was to loop his pointer finger with mine, as though he thought I might float away if he didn’t ground me. The intimate gesture spurred my confession.

  “Now perfection is expected, and it never got me anything more than what they were willing to give…. Funny how that happens.” I shrugged one shoulder, careful not to move the hand he held for fear he’d drop it.

  “Colbie…” Reverence clung to each syllable of my name as they moved past his lips. Or possibly pity.

  “Don’t.”

  The one finger he held wrangled the others into a full embrace. “Don’t what?”

  “Feel sorry for me.” I straightened my spine and pushed back my shoulders with more confidence than I actually had.

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m in awe of your strength.”

  I couldn’t stifle the chuckle that escaped until I met his stare. A pensive glare softened into something unrecognizable. Even in the darkness, I could see his pupils shrink and his nostrils flare. I didn’t have any experience with men, but I’d watched enough romance movies and read enough smut to know he fought what I felt with an equal amount of vigor.

  Leaning closer to him, I pulled the hand he held onto my lap, and my other went to his cheek. I closed my eyes and touched my mouth to his. The electricity was cosmic. I’d never kissed a boy or a man, but when his lips parted and his tongue slipped next to mine, the way they tangled together in an erotic dance had me flying. Or I was more inebriated than I thought.

  He pushed back, and my eyes flew open just in time to catch the drunken look lingering in his flushed features. “We can’t do this.” Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust, and I realized I’d misread every signal I believed I’d seen. Dr. Paxton appeared mortified by my actions.

  Without thinking any further, I stood and raced down the stairs hoping to stave off the tears until I was safely away.

  “Colbie,” he shouted, but I didn’t chance looking back to see his rejection. “Colbie. Stop.”

  Running in heels was far different than Hollywood made it appear—even if they didn’t do it intoxicated. Tears stung my eyes and burned my cheeks as they trickled down my face. Embarrassment was not an emotion I cared to experience—ever. And losing control of myself was a close second in comparison.

  4

  Eli

  I couldn’t risk Colbie not making it home safely. Caleb would kill me for following her, but if something happened, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. They didn’t liv
e far from here, ten or twelve blocks, but it was far enough that something could happen and Colbie not be found. It wasn’t a chance I was willing to take.

  She’d crossed the line tonight, and that was something I’d have to deal with when she was sober. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something I could address with her brother or any other member of her family. As I ran back into the country club to grab my keys, I noticed how right she’d been. No one seemed the wiser as to her whereabouts. It hadn’t been any different at the rehearsal, either. It was the first flaw I’d ever seen in the Chapman clan, and it was one that shook me to the core. Not because of how it affected my friend or his brothers, but because of how it affected Colbie. The passion I’d felt flow from her skin to mine with just the brush of a finger was nothing compared to the pull of her lips, the way her tongue ignited something inside me when we kissed. And as my student, every bit of it was wrong, even thinking it—acting on it could not only cost me my job but my relationship with Caleb.

  Standing there, staring at her family, the guests, my friends, I realized I was wasting time. Colbie’s safety was far more important than anything going on here. Once I shoved my keys into my pocket, I took off out the front door. My car wasn’t here, and I wasn’t sure how long this would take. Coming back to find everyone had left and I didn’t have access to my vehicle wouldn’t bode well.

  There was no point in running. I doubted that she’d continued jogging once she believed I hadn’t followed. A formal dress and shoes wouldn’t have made it easy—add in the alcohol and she was on an obstacle course of her own making. I expected to find her fairly quickly. To my surprise, we didn’t meet on the street. When I caught up to her, she had made it home.

  The place was lit up like a Christmas tree. Every light on the first floor of their plantation-style house was illuminated. It was a sight to behold itself, yet the image that caught my attention was the woman at the piano in the window. The sidewalk ran parallel to their front porch, and I followed it until I was directly in front of her. There I stood with my hands in my pockets and listened to the most beautiful music I’d ever heard played. It was as if she were putting on a concert for one—me.

  The glass of the windows muted the notes, although not enough to prevent the melody from reaching me—just from disturbing anyone else. She sat perched on the bench in front of an instrument as gorgeous as the beauty playing it, and in that moment, she transformed into something resembling an angel. Instead of white wings extended to soar, hers appeared broken. Colbie’s long hair hung below her shoulders, and her delicate fingers danced on the keys. I was mesmerized by the way she made love to the ivory while exuding pain.

  I wanted nothing more than to knock on the door, to hug her, reassure her, tell her how special I believed her to be—how exquisite she really was. Unfortunately, doing so would only serve to encourage the behavior she’d exhibited tonight—the kiss, not the drinking—and regardless of how it felt, it couldn’t happen. I didn’t even want to think of what Caleb would do if he found out I’d ever touched his little sister. My job was another story. I’d never work in a high school again if I were caught with a student.

  At some point, I’d have to explain that to her, share with her. Tonight wasn’t the time. My heart ached at the notion of being another person to push her away, let her go, make her believe she wasn’t worth my time. In truth, I didn’t know much about her—just enough to know I wanted more. With every note that flowed through to the street, my will waned. Everything about her was stunning, and witnessing Colbie uninhibited in her environment, doing what she loved brought a smile to my face.

  I didn’t know how long I watched her performance. I lost count of the number of songs she played. It wasn’t until she stood and seemed to meet me eye for eye through the distance that I realized I needed to leave. Colbie paused, staring at me on her sidewalk. The light behind her erased her features, leaving nothing other than a silhouette that lingered briefly, then the room went dark as did each of the others downstairs. I followed her through the house from the sidewalk until the last bit of illumination disappeared, and so did Colbie.

  She’d made it home safely and in one piece. I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to say the same for myself. I’d crossed a line I wasn’t positive I could come back from or even wanted to. I had approximately thirty-six hours to figure it out before she walked into my classroom on Monday morning.

  * * *

  Colbie ignored me, refused to make eye contact, for days. I didn’t have a clue how to break through or fix things when she wouldn’t acknowledge me. She had quit participating in class discussions, didn’t answer questions, and I hadn’t been willing to call on her to force it. There hadn’t been a single time she’d made eye contact with me since the exchange through the window on Saturday night. She’d have to engage tomorrow when the class presented their songs or take a zero. And while she hadn’t joined in the literary debates, Colbie hadn’t missed an assignment. I couldn’t imagine her taking a zero. It would eliminate her run for valedictorian completely—she wouldn’t give me that. I wouldn’t let her.

  Thankfully, I hadn’t had to deal with Caleb. He and Chasity were on their honeymoon and wouldn’t be back until next week. I had a handful of days to get shit straight with his sister. At some point, I’d have to come clean with her brother, it just didn’t have to be today. I didn’t know anyone else here, so my evenings had been quiet and filled with reflection. What I should have done with a student. How I needed to fix things with my student. And each solution brought more frustration. Although I wasn’t sure if it was because I couldn’t try any of them with her ignoring me or that I didn’t want to. She was an eighteen-year-old kid. There was no way in hell I could risk throwing my career away. Nonetheless, she plagued my thoughts and had started haunting my dreams.

  Every way I imagined trying to resolve our current predicament or my inappropriate behavior came to fruition when I closed my eyes—only in my sleep, her pain racked my own body. I’d wake in a cold sweat, chest heaving, heart throbbing, and it took several minutes for me to recognize it wasn’t reality. This girl had me in unreasonable knots I couldn’t unravel.

  As much as I looked forward to today—hearing her voice—I dreaded it just the same. I worried about what song she’d chosen, thinking it might be a message for me, a safe way for her to deliver it. Then on the flip side, I worried it would tell me nothing. Without being obvious, I watched her in class. I listened when she talked to other people. If I saw her in the hall, I observed her body language and how she interacted. I craved something personal from her, and it pained me that she’d given me nothing other than indifference.

  When second period ended, my stomach turned itself in knots in anticipation of her arrival. Colbie was here; I’d seen her in the hall this morning from the safety of my classroom. She came strolling into class with Jess at her side. The two laughed and the radiance of Colbie’s smile ruined me. And for the first time since her brother’s wedding, when she took her seat, she looked up. As she pulled her notebook and a pen from her backpack, her gaze met mine. The sadness that lingered in her pale-blue eyes was there like always, but when the smile fell from her lips, my heart plummeted. It was dangerous to risk staring at her as other kids entered, yet I refused to steal my attention from her as long as she willingly received it. And I didn’t—not until she looked away.

  My line of sight shifted to the other kids in the room, and I found Jess’s hard stare honed in on me—unforgiving. I couldn’t dwell on what she might know. I had to assume Colbie hadn’t shared with anyone else that she’d kissed me or that I’d held her hand. Hell, everyone at the wedding had seen me dance with her. I raked my hand through my already disheveled hair, and Jess just shook her head with a snide look on her face. Colbie might not have told her anything, but she definitely knew more than was safe for me.

  I didn’t waste any time when the bell rang. “All right.” I clapped my hands together. Normally, this was one of the most fun day
s of the year. It gave me a chance to learn a little about my students, and they typically enjoyed it. Today, I was nervous. “Who’s first?” I scanned the room waiting for an eager student to raise their hand. I pointed to the first volunteer. “Jeremy, you’re up.”

  Jeremy was a good student and seemed to be a good kid. He’d equate to middle management where he was a yes man. He aimed to please and didn’t have the gumption to lead. The world needed people like Jeremy. He’d done exactly what was asked of him with little imagination. I’d bet money he’d Googled song and romantic poetry instead of listening to his iPod to find something that represented him.

  The same was true of the next four students. Perfectly executed. Exactly what they thought I wanted; except, I wanted them to give me what they wanted. Each had expertly outlined the romantic elements in the lyrics and argued what made the song fit into the period we studied. They just did it without any heart—there was nothing in their presentation that was part of who they were. The truly analytical minds, the creative ones, would make me feel their approach, understand the music—I’d hear the song in my mind being played by their emotions. Thus far, I hadn’t gotten that.

  “Colbie, you’re next.” I didn’t look in her direction when I called her name. I made my way to the back of the class to watch her without hesitation or distraction. When I reached the last row, I took one final step to turn and lean against the wall. “What song did you choose?” With my ankles crossed and my hands behind my back, I appeared casual and unaffected—I was anything but.

  “‘Invisible’”—her eyes bored holes through me—“by Hunter Hayes.”

  Interesting. I wouldn’t have dubbed her a fan of country music. I hadn’t heard the song and made a mental note to look it up the moment the bell rang.

  Colbie held my attention from the moment she started speaking and never looked away. Not once did she roam the room or act as though there was anyone else in her audience. She directed every word at me, to me, for me. The pain in my chest grew as she spoke of the rejection of social convention and the force of emotion on the inner world—the ache of a lonely teenager.