When Perfect Meets Crazy novel Chapter 27

“What could you possibly have to be sad about?” I couldn’t not roll my eyes as I asked the question.

Considering the fact that the girl I was talking to was on the verge of tears, my tone was less than friendly.

I knew I had signed up to play point guard for Mae’s crush on Zach when I agreed to go to Finch’s party but I honestly hadn’t counted on her getting irrevocably emotional-blubbering-mess drunk. Had I known, I would’ve unapologetically declined. I had enough on my plate as it was and even if I didn’t, I just wasn’t one for the full range of human emotions. It wasn’t my thing. It was like asking Coco Chanel to wear a knock-off or Einstein to organize a fun day off. No. Just no.

“He won’t even look at me.” She sniffled, turning the full effect of her wide teary eyes on me.

I gritted my teeth, an inborn defense mechanism to having my barely-there heartstrings tugged.

“So? You started liking him, what? Last week?”

She raised her head to meet my gaze, her smile wobbling in a way that made it clear water works would follow if I didn’t tread carefully.

“Sorry.” I pasted a congenial smile on my face, sighing inwardly.

I could have been at home, battling virtual characters, reading a novel or even watching reruns. Anything beat sitting in a corner of Finch’s kitchen, consoling a friend over another friend she started liking less than fourteen days ago.

I heaved a sigh, staring longingly out the window.

One of the guys getting high out back popped in, heading straight for the fridge. He paused briefly, sending a nod our way. I nodded back, my impersonal smile making it clear it was not a good time to approach us.

“You don’t understand,” Mae wailed, throwing herself into my lap.

I drew in a fortifying breath and reminded myself that roughly pushing her off might make her throw up. And that under normal circumstances, I actually did like her.

“I really don’t,” I replied a beat later, my irritation under control.

Boys were just boys. As friends, they could be pretty great but I didn’t see what was so amazing about crushes and boyfriends. They came and went. I definitely didn’t date with thoughts of marriage or ‘forever’ in my head. Not many people my age did either so I just couldn’t see why, despite knowing they’d only break-up, they still took boyfriends and crushes so seriously. It was just high school. If the feeling wasn’t mutual, it was as easy as moving on to the next crush.

I forced a smile as Ashley, one of Claire’s minions –Charlie’s angels as Masked Idiot dubbed them- walked into the kitchen to refill her cup of soda.

“That’s because guys always like you first.” Mae sighed, pushing her lips into a pout as she sat up. “You’re like catnip for them.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink to steady myself before replying, “Catnip? Really?”

I could’ve been having fun right now. Seriously. I wasn’t trying to be an unsympathetic friend. Anything but boy drama and I might’ve taken it seriously. Boy drama was just something I could never get behind.

“And you’re never invested. I don’t know how you do it. Like how did you walk away from Rigo? Rigo!” Her gaze, wide and confused, latched onto my face. “How did you even get him to fall that hard for you? He’s practically a serial player.”

I rolled my eyes again.

Rigo having a crush on me hadn’t exactly been fun for me. He had always been one of the cool boys, the coolest really but he was never on my radar. We barely used to say hi to each other until one night when we got stuck walking Mae home from a party. According to him, they were childhood friends. It turned out to be true but at the time, I did not know that. Mae was stupidly drunk so I was more than a little suspicious of his intentions when he claimed he was going to be a ‘gentleman’ and walk her home. Everyone at Claire Anne’s knew Rigo. He was the biggest player there was and he was unrepentant about it. Gentleman my foot. As a great friend, I, of course, insisted on accompanying them. Sisterhood and whatnot. That was how we started talking. How he got on my radar.

He made his intentions clear from the beginning. No strings. No talk of defining anything. Just casual fun. So casual we didn’t even have to be friends. Of course thanks to my eternal need to compartmentalize the different parts of my life, I instantly decided that was what I needed. A causal situation. No strings attached. No meeting the parents. No picking me up from home for dates. Nothing that would inform my parents of his existence. It was the perfect proposition.

On paper, it was the one entanglement that should’ve worked. All the other guys I ever tried going down that road with wanted real relationships and things either ended because I wasn’t a good girlfriend -calling everyday, asking about their days, telling them about mine etcetera- or because they were getting close to meeting my parents.

My parents weren’t against dating but I knew them well enough to know that they’d scrutinize and criticize every tiny detail. They would complain about everything and if the boy didn’t meet their standards, they would react like I had failed an important test. For the rest of my life, they’d never let me live it down. Things were never forgotten in my house. My house was one where every time you screwed up, there would be a recount of every screw up you’ve ever had in your life just to make you feel worse.

I wasn’t ready for that. At all. Unfortunately, bodies have cravings that need to be satisfied or I would’ve laid off boys completely.

Rigo was supposed to work. It should have worked. Unfortunately, he caught feelings and ruined everything. It became a whole big deal when he started going after me because he was Rigo and ‘Rigo doesn’t do relationships,’ and I was supposed to be flattered. Just like that, I was in the situation I wanted to avoid in the first place and somehow still the bad person for it.

Thankfully, it never went beyond the walls of school. At least that part of our initial agreement got through his skull.

“Till today, I can’t tell you how it happened. I did nothing to encourage him. Not even small talk.”

I barely even texted the guy. It was just the occasional heated make-out session on his couch or in a dark corner at a party.

She sighed heavily like she had just been told nothing else could be done, she’d have to die single.

“It’s your elusivity. You don’t want them and even when you do, you don’t want them badly. It’s like; if it works, it works. If it doesn’t, next.” Another heavy shoulder heaving sigh. “I wish I was like that. I wish nothing mattered to me. That I was just fucking great at every damn thing like you.”

My stomach roiled and it wasn’t because of the Pepsi. I pasted a smile on my face as I stroked her hair, arranging it on her back.

“First, it’s elusion. There’s no such word as ‘elusivity’.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed her empty cup aside. I graciously handed her mine even though I knew she’d be uninterested in my lukewarm cup of soda. Pepsi.

“Second, I don’t see any reason to want them badly. There are lots of boys so why stress over one?” I had enough highly demanding people to please already to bother adding one more.

I gave a noncommittal shoulder jerk, shaking my head lightly at Louise who was making a beeline for us. She got the message and diverted.

“Third, I did try. I wanted to work things out with Paxton, remember? He was the one who ended things. And lastly, I don’t see why you can’t do it too.”

Paxton was, in some ways, the one that got away. On paper, he was the perfect candidate for a boyfriend. He was smart, cool and kind. He had the best smile and prettiest eyes. The fact that he had won the male category of ‘take home to mama’ two years in a row now said it all.