Better Than Perfect

by Melissa Kantor

  But I didn’t.

  “You know how sometimes you just have to make a change?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “I have to make a change.”

  The woman—her name was Cynthia—looked unsure, but then she sort of squared her shoulders and met my eyes in the mirror. “Well then. Let’s pick a black for you.”

  Now, looking at myself in the window of Dyed and Gone to Heaven, it seemed to me that for the first time since my father had moved out, my outsides matched my insides. I turned my head and felt the ends swish lightly against the back of my neck.

  I dropped Sofia off at her house, then headed to the Coffeehouse. It was too late to shower and change, but I was wearing a scoop-necked, long-sleeved green shirt with a black skirt and a pair of black tights that, with my amazing new hair, had a touch of Blondie badass about it. Just before the turnoff to the Coffeehouse, I remembered that half a mile down the road was a shoe store that always carried Doc Martens, and I gunned it, raced into the store, and asked the guy behind the desk if they had any black ones in my size.

  “Um, yeah,” he said, nodding along to the music playing on the earbud that was in his ear. “You want to try them on?”

  I took out my credit card. “That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll just take a pair.”

  I parked right in front of the Coffeehouse, pushed my seat all the way back, pulled off my clogs, and slipped on the Doc Martens. They were heavier than I’d expected, and as I stepped out of the car, I felt strong and powerful.

  If anyone messes with me, I thought, I will kick their fucking ass.

  It was warm inside the Coffeehouse and dark except for a few lights up by the stage. I saw Declan sitting in a chair, restringing his guitar. He was the only one there.

  “Hey!” I called.

  He shaded his eyes with his hand and peered into the darkness. “Who’s there?” he called. “Sinead?” He stood up and walked over to the wall.

  I stepped forward just as he hit the lights. The sudden glare made me squint.

  Declan almost dropped his guitar. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” I asked, looking around to see what he was staring at.

  He took a step toward me. “Your hair.”

  “Oh.” I put my hand to the top of my head, suddenly self-conscious. “Sean’s going to crucify me.”

  “Fuck Sean,” said Declan. “It’s great.” He came closer and circled me. “You look really hot but also kind of like my sister. It’s freaking me out a little.” He laughed and I laughed also, even though I was suddenly very conscious of being alone with him.

  He smiled at me. “We’re opening up with ‘I Got You, Babe,’ so get ready.”

  “I’m opening?” My heart started pounding, but now it wasn’t because I was alone with Declan. It was one thing to know in the abstract that I would be performing later. It was another to know I’d be opening.

  “You’ll be great,” he promised, and he put his hand on my forearm.

  I’d promised myself I wasn’t joining the Clovers to spend time with Declan, and during the weeks we’d been rehearsing, I’d gotten used to being around him. I still sensed his presence, but I’d worked to pretend that my feelings for him were no different from my feelings for Sean or Sinead or Danny. He’s just a guy in the band, I told myself whenever I noticed him noticed him. He’s just a guy in the band.

  But now I felt his touch run all the way up my arm and then spread through my body like an electric current. He must not have felt it, though, because he took his hand away almost as soon as he’d touched me, and checked the time on his phone. My throat felt tight, but his voice was completely normal. “Sean’s getting Danny on the way, so big surprise that they’re late. No idea where”—suddenly, his phone burst into “Don’t You Want Me,” which I recognized from the mix he’d made me—“Sinead is,” he finished. “Excuse me a sec.”

  “Hello there, gorgeous,” he said, and he walked slowly to the other side of the room. Declan sometimes called his sister gorgeous, but something about the quiet tone in which he was talking gave me the feeling he was on the phone with Willow. My hunch was confirmed when he said, “Willow? Willow? Hang on a sec, I have another call. Yeah, sure. Okay. Right after. Bye.” I noticed he didn’t say I love you, but then I reminded myself that just because Jason and I said it didn’t mean every couple in the world had to say it. Jason and I had been going out for years. Willow and Declan had gotten together less than two months ago.

  And what did I care about him and Willow, anyway? The person I needed to think about was Jason. Why was I fighting with my boyfriend and getting all excited by Declan’s touch? Everything about the way I was acting was completely fucked up, and it stopped now. I took out my phone to send Jason a text and tell him that I loved him.

  “Hey, Mom,” Declan said, clicking onto his other call. “What’s up?”

  And in an instant, I stopped composing my text to Jason.

  “What?” Declan’s voice was hoarse with shock. I’d been trying to give him privacy (or at least the illusion of privacy) during his conversation with Willow, but now I dropped my hand and stared at him. His fist was pressed against his forehead, and his face was white. “When? . . . Where are you now? . . . Where is that? Yeah. Yeah. . . . I’m on my way.” He hung up.

  “What happened?” I asked, walking over to him.

  “Sean and Danny got into an accident. They hit another car. Danny was sitting in the passenger seat. . . .” Declan took a breath, and I stepped closer to him. “He was knocked unconscious and he has internal bleeding. He’s being operated on at Long Island Hospital right now.”

  Danny. Little Danny. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Declan had been staring at me the whole time he told me what had happened to Danny, but now he looked away. “They don’t know.”

  The miracle was that we didn’t have our own accident on the way to LIH. We were in my car, which Declan had insisted on driving. He was following my directions but not listening carefully, so twice he crossed three lanes of traffic at once in order to make a turn. The blare of angry car horns was the soundtrack of our drive.

  Please let Danny be okay. Please let Danny be okay. I repeated the sentence over and over in my head, realizing only after we pulled into the emergency parking lot at the hospital that the prayer was almost identical to the one I’d been whispering three months ago, when I’d pulled into the same parking lot in an ambulance with my mother unconscious next to me.

  The waiting room was unchanged. Even the people looked the same, their eyes glassy with fatigue and worry and boredom. The same stale air I’d smelled the night we brought my mother in seemed to be circulating.

  Declan immediately spotted his family gathered at the far end of the waiting room, his mom and dad sitting next to each other staring straight ahead, her hand on his on the armrest between them. Their faces were so expressionless it made me think of my mom sitting in the day room at Roaring Brook. But unlike my mom, the Brennans were innocent victims. Their youngest son might die, but it wasn’t their fault.

  Not that my mom’s overdose or suicide attempt or whatever it was had been her fault. She was an innocent victim also.

  Was she, though?

  I couldn’t stop the thought from popping into my head, and once it was there, it stuck. I stood off to the side and watched Declan’s mom hugging Declan, squeezing him, and rocking him, their hair the same color except for where hers was streaked with gray, and I thought about my mom. She’d had a choice. Her husband had left her, but he hadn’t put a bullet through her brain. He hadn’t driven into oncoming traffic with her in the passenger seat. It might have felt like he had, but he hadn’t.

  Danny might die.

  As bad as what had happened to my mom was, it wasn’t this. It wasn’t death. But she’d tried to make it this. Or she’d carelessly almost made it this. How could she have done that?

  Declan introduced me to his parents, but I wasn’t sure they registered who I
was. I thought maybe I should leave, but I felt weird asking Declan if he wanted me to go and even weirder just going, so I sat beside him. Then Sinead showed up and sat with us. After about an hour, I asked if anyone wanted some coffee, and Sinead and both of Declan’s parents did. Declan didn’t respond to my question, and rather than ask a second time, I just brought them each a cup. Declan’s sat on the empty seat between us growing cold.

  The hours passed unbelievably slowly. More and more people came—Declan’s grandparents first, his grandmother tiny, his grandfather well over six feet tall. His grandmother took my hand and squeezed it. “You’re so good to come,” she said. “We’ve heard so much about you.” I was pretty sure she had me confused with somebody else, but it seemed impolite to ask who she thought I was, so I just thanked her.

  I kept getting texts from people who had gone to the show and found out it was canceled. Jason. Sofia. Elise. Margaret. Jason asked when I was coming home, and I just wrote back idk. He didn’t respond. And even though texts kept coming in, I didn’t hear from him again.

  At some point, we were moved upstairs to the waiting room for patients in surgery. And then, at a little after midnight, a man in white came out and called, “Brennan.” Declan’s dad shot to his feet, and the man came over to where we were all gathered.

  “I’m one of the nurses, and I’ve just come from the OR. I want you to know that they are still operating on Danny. He’s a strong young man.”

  Declan’s dad’s face crumpled when the nurse said that, and his mother took a step forward and put her hand on the nurse’s arm. “Is he going to be okay?”

  The nurse put his hand over Declan’s mom’s hand. “He’s doing very, very well so far. Dr. Rubin wanted to wait to tell you anything until we had a little more information, but I know parents always expect the worst when they don’t get any news. So I wanted to let you know what little I could. I’m hoping to be back in a little while with something more concrete.” With that, he patted Declan’s mom’s hand and turned and walked out.

  Declan’s mom looked around at us. “Well, that was nice. That he came to tell us.”

  “It was,” Sinead agreed quickly.

  “It was bullshit,” said Declan.

  “Declan,” said his dad harshly.

  “What?” he asked, turning to his dad, his hands at his sides clenched into fists. They stared at each other, their faces wearing the same tight expression.

  “He’s doing all he can.”

  “Well that’s just great,” said Declan. “Maybe he’ll come out again in ten more minutes and tell us nothing. Maybe he’ll keep doing that all night.”

  Nobody said anything. Declan’s parents sat back down.

  “Declan, what is your problem?” hissed Sinead.

  “Don’t you start with me,” Declan snapped back.

  “Children,” said Declan’s grandfather. “That’s enough.”

  Declan and Sinead were quiet, but I could tell they were just waiting for an opportunity to snap at each other again. Now was definitely the moment for his family to get some alone time. I stood up. “I should go,” I said. “It’s getting late and . . . I should go.”

  Declan’s parents both reached for my hand. “Thank you so much for waiting with us.”

  I was touched by how they seemed genuinely glad that I’d stayed and not bewildered by why I’d hung out so long. I shook his dad’s hand and then his mom’s. I wanted to say something about how Danny was going to be okay, but I couldn’t see making them thank me for a useless platitude. Sinead and I hugged. “Thanks for coming,” she said into my shoulder.

  “He’s going to be okay,” I promised her, and somehow it felt true.

  “I know,” she whispered back.

  I stepped away and gave a little wave, surprised when Declan said, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “I’m okay,” I said quickly. “You can stay with your family.”

  Declan stared at his parents, his grandparents, and his sister, then shook his head. “I should get some air.”

  Neither of us spoke as we walked down the corridor and waited for the elevator. When we got downstairs and went outside, we both realized we were at the main entrance, not the emergency entrance, which was where my car was parked.

  “I can find my way,” I said when I saw where we were. “Really.”

  Declan didn’t even respond, just pulled open the door and headed back into the hospital. I wasn’t sure if he was going back to his family or if he was going to go with me to my car, but then I saw that he was standing a few yards from the door and waiting.

  We looped through the hospital. It was maddeningly serpentine; each time we seemed to have found our way, we’d hit a door we couldn’t enter or an elevator that was for staff and patients only. With each wrong turn we took, I could feel Declan’s frustration mounting, and I was starting to get scared he’d lose it when a bright red arrow appeared on the wall with EMERGENCY written on it in white letters. I followed Declan along the corridor. Just as we stepped outside, an ambulance pulled up with its lights flashing and its sirens blaring, and at first I was so blinded by it that I didn’t notice the person who stepped out of the shadowy area just beyond the cement portico. By the time I saw that it was Sean, he was practically next to me.

  He had what looked like dried blood on his arm. At first I assumed it must be his, but then I realized it was probably Danny’s.

  “Get away from here,” growled Declan.

  “Dec, I’m so sorry.” Sean’s eyes were red, and he took a step toward us, stumbling slightly.

  “Get the fuck away from here,” Declan repeated, his voice shaking with rage.

  “Tell me he’s going to be okay,” said Sean. He was crying now. “Please, Dec. Please just tell me he’s going to be okay.”

  And just like that, Declan whipped back his arm and punched Sean smack in the jaw. I screamed as Sean fell backward against the Plexiglas barrier.

  “You are such a fucking asshole!” Declan screamed into Sean’s face. Sean was crying harder, but he didn’t make any attempt to hit Declan back. “You’re a drunk and a disgrace, and if my brother dies, so help me I will fucking kill you, Sean Brennan. Do you hear me? I will kill you.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Sean muttered. He wasn’t looking at Declan, and when he tried to get up, he fell back, but I couldn’t tell if it was because he was drunk or because of how hard Declan had punched him.

  “You’d better be sorry, Sean. And you’d better hope to God that my brother lives.” Now Declan was crying also. “You’d just better hope that, do you hear me? You’d just better hope that he doesn’t die in there on that operating table.”

  Even though he was crying, I could hear Declan getting angry again, and I pulled on his arm, to get him away from Sean. To my surprise, he let me lead him to my car, and he stood against it crying while I stood next to him.

  “Oh, Jesus,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He leaned forward, his hands on his knees, and he nodded with his head in the direction of the spot where he’d hit Sean.

  “Hey,” I said. “It’s okay. Really.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Really,” I said again.

  He put his hand on mine and stood up, and I was about to say, “It’s going to be okay,” or something equally banal, and then all of a sudden he put his hand on my waist and then I seemed to fall forward against him and without either of us saying anything, we were making out.

  My mind might have forgotten what it felt like to make out with Declan, but my body hadn’t. He scooped me up and put me on the hood of my car, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him against me as hard as I could. There was nothing in the world that felt as good as this, and I started unbuttoning his oxford as he slipped his hand up the back of my shirt.

  His hands were hot against my skin, and he clutched the back of my neck. I kissed him hungrily; I couldn’t get enough of his lips.

  “Jules,” he whispered.

  “We should get inside the
car,” I whispered back, and then I had my keys in my hand and we had the back door open and I was sliding across the seat as he slid in on top of me and helped me slip my shirt off over my head. My bra disappeared somewhere onto the floor of the car, and I realized that even though Jason and I had been having sex for almost a year, I had never in my entire life really wanted to have sex until this moment.

  Declan sat up, slid me onto his lap, and pulled his shirt off over his head. I leaned forward and kissed him on the base of his neck, a spot I’d been memorizing for weeks without knowing I was doing it. As my lips pressed against his skin, he groaned, deep in his throat.

  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, and I lifted my head. His eyes met mine and he put his hands on my face. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he said again.

  “I have too.” I said it so quietly I wasn’t sure he’d heard me, but still it felt like putting down something heavy I’d been carrying, and in the lightness I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his, and I knew from the way he dug his fingers into my hair so hard it was almost painful that he’d heard.

  I ran my hands down his bare arms, noticing somewhere in the back of my brain that there was music playing. For a second I thought maybe my car radio had turned on, but I barely had time to wonder how that was possible before it stopped. My fingers intertwined with Declan’s as the song played again. This time, Declan froze.

  “What is it?” I whispered. The music played a third time, and I recognized the song I’d heard that afternoon when we were at rehearsal waiting for Sean and Danny to show up. It was “Don’t You Want Me.”

  It was Willow.

  We sat there, not moving for what felt like a very long time. The phone rang again, and he took it out of his pocket and silenced it. “Jesus, I am such an asshole,” he said finally. He leaned his head back.

  I was still wearing my skirt and underwear, but I felt completely naked. I scrambled off his lap, grabbed for a dark shadow on the armrest, and pulled my T-shirt on.