Perfectly Messy

by Lizzy Charles

  Oh my gosh.

  Ian.

  Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

  Does Marissa like him? She always takes the farthest seat away from him at the coffee shop. And she’s quiet around him too, only adding to the conversation, never directing where it’ll go.

  Ian and Marissa? He’s completely outside of her reputation. Yeah, he knows about her photos, too, but I’m certain he’ll never look at them. He’s way too respectable for that. Marissa would have a chance to start fresh with Ian. Oh my gosh, they should date! Ian’s hand squeezes mine as if in confirmation of my thoughts.

  I squeeze back before I let go, moving to Marissa’s side. “Hey.”

  “Hey, having fun?”

  “No. I spoke to Justin downstairs.”

  “Wow. How’d it go? Are you okay?”

  I blow out a long breath. “It’s definitely over. I got some closure.” Total lie, but whatever. That’s the closest to closure I’ll ever get. I glance over at Ian. “He’s cute, right?”

  She doesn’t even glance his way as she says, “One hundred percent hot, yup.” Wow, she really does respect me now. Where she’d once drool and ogle, now she doesn’t even look.

  “You should go talk to him,” I whisper.

  “What?” she says, shifting down from the stool.

  “Marissa, I can tell you like him. I…well, I mean, I like him but I’m not into him like you are. I don’t think I’m ready to date, yet.”

  “Lucy, don’t be insane. Ian’s awesome.”

  “No, honestly. I’m not ready for this.” A weight lifts from my shoulders and suddenly, it’s easier to breathe. It’s okay that I’m not ready. It’s fine. I’ll go at life and relationships at my own speed. Ian’s not really the type of guy I’d ever fall for anyway. My type of guy is… well, other than Justin, I don’t know. I’ll have to figure that out. But Ian? Even that tickle I had around him last week is gone now. “Ian’s not meant for me. Go hang out with him.”

  “Lucy, I’m not going to throw myself at him just because you say so.”

  “Right. No, of course not. I’m just saying feel free to start a friendship with him. Not that you need my permission—”

  “No, I do after what I did to you,” she says softly.

  “Okay, well then, I’m giving it to you. Ian’s fantastic. Become friends with him and see if it goes anywhere.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s terrifying, Lucy. Becoming friends with a guy and then risking it for a date or two?”

  “Marissa, how else are you supposed to find love? Can you picture throwing yourself at him the way you used to?”

  “No, he’s too smart. Too Kind. Too…” She blushes. “He’s so different then the other guys.”

  “See, that’s why you should just start hanging out with him.”

  She nods. “We’ll see.”

  “At least consider it. I’m telling Ian when we leave that we’re not going to work out. He’ll always be one of my good buddies but I can’t really see myself making out with him, ya know?”

  Marissa laughs. “No. I don’t actually. I’ve been picturing making out with him since I first heard him sing. Seriously…” she flushes, “he’s so frickin’ hot.”

  “Then hang out with him, okay?”

  “Okay, I’ll see what happens. And, Lucy?” She tugs at my hand after I pull out of the hug. “Don’t give up on Justin just yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Love is hard. Really hard. Not that I know…I mean, look at you and me. It took us a while but through the pain we found friendship. I’m glad the pain happened. Without it, I’d probably be on a beach somewhere posing for some Girls Gone Wild-ish video.”

  “So you’re saying Justin dumping me is saving me from Girls Gone Wild?”

  “Something like that.” She squeezes my hand. “If the love is there, it’ll work out.”

  “I had no idea you were so wise.”

  “I’ve been hiding lots.”

  “Why?”

  “You know better than anyone—it’s scary to be yourself.”

  Someone taps my shoulder and I jump. Justin again? I whip around, not ready, but I can’t not look. Jen smiles back at me and gives me a hug. “I’ve missed you.” Her words mean so much. We’ve seen each other a few times in groups but, with the breakup, I knew she’d stand with Justin after all the support he’s given her. And that’s okay. I’d never want to break their friendship up.

  “I’ve missed you back,” I say, hugging her. “What’s new?”

  Suddenly a girl with a pixie haircut slides into view. Trish. Jen reaches back, taking her hand. Here, at the party, in front of everyone.

  “Hi, Lucy,” Trish offers.

  I don’t know what to do. I want to yell at her for all of Jen’s tears, but Jen smiles at me.

  “We’ve been working things out,” Jen explains.

  “Right,” I reach out, pulling Trish in for a brief hug. “Great to see you again, Trish. So, are you guys…”

  “Together?” Jen offers. “Yup.”

  “Is this out?”

  Jen laughs. “As of twenty minutes ago, yup. When we walked in, Trish grabbed me and kissed me in front of everyone.” She giggles. “I totally wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

  “How’d I miss that?”

  Marissa nudges me. “You were in the basement.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I did, babe. Remember? If the love is there, it’ll work out.”

  “For real, wise one, could you be less cryptic next time?”

  “Nah, I kind of like this route.”

  Ian smiles at me from the corner and my gut stirs. “Well, Jen and Trish, I’m happy you guys are back together.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Listen, I’ve got to get home. Curfew.” We say goodbye, then I make my way back to Ian’s side. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get home.”

  “Right, absolutely,” he says to me, but I swear his eyes flicker above my shoulder, studying Marissa. Good. This won’t be that hard.

  In the car on the drive home, I’m honest. Totally straight forward. My breath catches as his head moves with my words, still studying the road. Finally, he responds, “That sounds fine to me. As long as we can still be friends. You’re too cool to lose.”

  “Friends I can do. For sure.”

  “Great. Are we still on for the coffee shop Saturday morning so I can help you study for your ACT?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  I crawl out of his Toyota. “Do you mind if I bring a friend along?”

  “No problem. I actually like teaching ACT tricks.”

  “Well, she’s already taken her ACT. I’d be bringing her for fun.”

  “Who?”

  “Marissa?”

  Then he smiles. Good, there’s something there for him too. “That’d be great,” he says. “She’s fun, plus I can quiz her about Harry Potter.”

  “Right. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” I lean back into the car before I shut the door, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for being a good guy, Ian.”

  He blushes a bit. “No problem.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Justin

  Right about now, I’d take being run over by a heard of buffalo crushing my bones and defecating in my face over the pain of Lucy’s rejection. Of course she wasn’t going to jump into my arms with that stupid apology. I know better than that. Lucy’s full of fire. I’d need a monsoon to sizzle her out before she’d listen to me. Not that I’d want that, her fierceness is what I need in my life—someone to see through my total bull crap.

  I sink into the leather couch in the living room, thankful for the silence of the house. Mom and Dad are staying at the governor’s mansion tonight. No interruptions. A chance to finally acknowledge how royally I’ve screwed up.

  It’s like a train of disaster is following me. No matter how hard
I try, I can’t keep everything going. I can’t keep it all right. I’ve given up. Even my Google calendar is sending me reminders to plan events. If Google’s noticing I’m falling behind, there’s no way I can pull my shit together well enough for Lucy to take me back.

  A pillow wedges uncomfortably behind my back. Stupid cylinder pillow. What type of home actually has this crap! The pillow soars from my hands, smashing into the wall. All the hanging photos crash to the hardwood floor.

  Shit.

  I haul myself off the couch and grab a broom. Yet another awesome Justin Marshall moment. Just as I pick up the first photo out of the pile of glass, the garage door opens. Awesome. Goodbye, night to myself.

  Dad walks in. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene. I catch my reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. It’s been a while since I’ve had a haircut and with all the hair yanking I’ve been doing, I’ve got some crazy ass scientist hair. Dad must think I’ve gone nuts. He walks carefully into the room, eyebrow raised. Smart father. Beware of rabid son. His eyes don’t leave mine as he reaches down, plucking a photo from the ground.

  “You remind me so much of him like that,” he says, touching my hair.

  “Who?”

  “Jackson,” he smiles, glancing down at the photo in his hand. “Remember how funny he was? He used to do this weird act in the living room, making his hair stand up just like that.”

  “Vaguely.” There’s a flash of Jackson jumping off the couch into a pile of cushions, his hair all over the place.

  “Jackson.” Dad shakes his head as he takes a seat on the coffee table. “That kid. Man.”

  “He was great,” I launch into his speech for him.

  Dad laughs, coughing a little. “Actually, I was going to say that he drove me nuts.”

  “What? Jackson was a saint.”

  Dad laughs. “No, he was all over the place. If I turned around, he’d be climbing the counters. He figured out how to climb the walls when he was three. Three!”

  “He was an amazing athlete.”

  “He was a kid with a great heart, but a total headache.” He pulls out his wallet and hands me a photo. Jackson’s got a huge smirk on his face, standing way too close to a cliff with his hands on his hips. “He refused to walk away from the edge until we took this picture at the Grand Canyon. That kid got in so much trouble pulling that stunt. I swore I’d never let him out of the car again.”

  “Weird, I don’t remember Jackson like that.”

  “Of course you don’t. He was your big brother, purely amazing in your eyes. You two were great together. I loved watching you play. Jackson’s saving grace was how much he cared for you. He thought you were the world, wanted to teach you everything.”

  “Yeah, that’s the Jackson I know. He knew how to do everything right. He was perfect.”

  “Jackson was fantastic, but far from perfect. He almost burned down our house once!”

  “He probably didn’t know what he was doing.”

  “No, he knew. He managed it while he was home on Hospice, a few weeks before he passed away. He was eight. He knew how fire worked.”

  “Then why’d he do it?”

  “He was angry he was going to die,” Dad says, taking the photo back and carefully putting it in his wallet. “The thing is, even in those moments, he was fantastic. Before he got sick, I used to research ways to raise a challenging child.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I bought so many books. Nothing worked. Jackson did his thing and, thankfully, his heart was good. But man, did he love to screw things up.

  “After he got sick, I saw him more clearly. How fantastic Jackson was for thinking outside of the box, for pushing the limits. It’s what made him so great. He fought for what he wanted, hard. He never gave up. Even his last breath was strong.”

  “How come you’re sharing this with me now?”

  “I don’t know. The whole photo scandal reminds me of something that would’ve happened to Jackson if he was here. That frustration… I wasn’t used to feeling that toward you. After raising Jackson and it ending the way it did, I wanted everything to go right for you.”

  “Dad, Jackson didn’t get leukemia and die because of anything you did, you know that, right?”

  “Yes, I know, but the reasoning behind my hopes for your life is real. I wanted you to have it all. You did. You do.”

  “Weird…”

  “What?”

  “I always wanted to have it all because of Jackson. Wanted to be the perfect son and make up for what you guys were missing with him gone. Jackson’s behind so many of my decisions. He always seemed to have the right answer.”

  “For you, he did. But in reality, he made mistakes. We all make mistakes. That’s okay. Listen,” he taps my knee. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you had to be perfect just because I wanted you to have it all.”

  “You didn’t ever drive perfection into me. That’s my own deal.”

  “Based off of trying to be a replacement for Jackson for me and your mother?”

  My nose starts to burn as I look away from him. Whoa. I didn’t see this conversation coming, ever.

  “Let it all go. Fight fiercely for what you want. If that means some plates come crashing down, I’ll help you clean up the mess.” He eyes the broken photos on the floor. “We’ll always love you. No matter what. This year seriously messed me up. Actually, that’s why I came home tonight.”

  “Why?” Did he and Mom get in another fight? Things have seemed better between them since he fired Paul.

  “To tell you about a decision I made with your mom tonight.” A light, relaxed smile spreads across his face. “After firing Paul, Mom and I revisited if we really did want to start down the track toward presidential candidacy. We agreed it’s something that we don’t want. I do still want to be Minnesota’s Governor, so I’ll run another term. If I lose though, it’s okay. Mom and I are planning to start up a non-profit in our retirement. Something local and involving education. The idea’s still a baby, but we are passionate about making it a reality.”

  “Wow, that’s great. No, it’s awesome. I didn’t want you to become president either.”

  “Yeah. That path in life isn’t for me. It’s not for my family either.” He takes off his sport coat. “It feels amazing to not have ‘presidential candidate’ on my radar anymore.”

  “I bet.”

  “So,” he stands, grabbing the broom from the floor. “Why are the photos smashed on the floor?”

  “Eh, I’m…”

  “Oh, just spill it.”

  “I asked Lucy to take me back tonight and she rejected me. So I threw the pillow.” My face burns as I bend down with the dustpan, keeping it still while Dad sweeps into it.

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He puts down the broom. “Why wouldn’t she take you back?”

  I reach down, mulling it over as I pick up the last photo. Jackson holding a baby. Me. His smile is crooked and there’s a wild look in his eye. Dad’s right, he did have that mischievous look. And there I am, sleeping peacefully in his arms. Being perfect.

  That’s it.

  Oh my gosh. Lucy was right. Of course she’s right! She’s the smartest wise ass I know.

  I’m obsessed with perfection. Just because it doesn’t feel correct doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Unknowingly, I’ve gone through life as a critical asshole. I thought I was just striving to do good, but the moment things got too overwhelming, I fled. I couldn’t handle things being real. My pursuit of perfection kept me from learning how to cope. No wonder Lucy kept her feelings from me. She was trying to keep our relationship easy, perfect, for me. She knew I needed it. She did what she could to hold us together. She’s able to roll with the punches, even when they hurt, and I couldn’t. I freaked out.

  “There it is,” Dad says. “Did you figure it out?”

  “Yeah, I think I did. Perf
ect doesn’t mean right.”

  “Love isn’t perfect, Justin. It’s a terrifying, messy thing that requires the strength to not only believe in it but fight for it. Work on it. Love is hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever done and the greatest thing I’ll ever do.” He picks up a photo of Mom. “I’ll fight for her the rest of my life. I want you to know that.”

  “I do. Thanks. She deserves it.”

  “She does.” He takes the photo out of the shattered glass. “So, what’s next for you?”

  His words freeze me in place. Terror doesn’t even begin to describe what I think I’m about to do.

  “Go to Lucy. Live with your heart, not your head.” He grabs the broom and smacks my leg with the bristles. “Let me clean up this mess.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lucy

  The shower runs cold. The transition stings my scalp, making my bones shift. Okay, okay. The hot shower obviously didn’t work and this, well, this just sucks. I climb out, wrapping in a towel before dressing in my favorite pair of yoga pants and racer-back tank top. My breathing is still rapid, despite the steamy room.

  Justin.

  Why did he have to come back? Assuming I’d just jump back into his arms. Hell no. Not with that attitude. He hurt me so much. He’s never going to understand it. Screw him. I was finally able to walk around without a thousand pounds weighing down my heart. Move through life, with just nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds weighing me down. But with that one pound gone, I got through. I moved on. But then why does everything feel so fresh? The way Justin held me tonight, for that moment in his arms. God. My skin still burns with his touch. It felt so good, but I can’t let it happen again. Never again.

  My heart flips and plunges, my toes curl. Instinct drives my heart, willing it to escape through the floor. This. Pain. Sucks. This isn’t fair. I thought I’d moved on. He shouldn’t be able to have this effect on me. Not anymore.

  My phone vibrates on the counter. Surely, it’s Laura’s play-by-play of what I missed at the party after I left. Probably some stuff about Jen and Trish and how people are reacting. I pick it up, hoping that whatever people said to them was kind.

  Instead, Justin’s name is branded across my screen.