Perfect (16 page)

"I don't know. I've been thinking about that."

"And?"

"And I don't think we should show her yet. I think we
should wait. Do it in a special way."

"Like how?"

I smiled just a little, careful to cover my teeth with my
lips like the famous lady in the painting. Mysterious. Sometimes when you have a great idea you want to keep it to
yourself for a while. You want to take your time with it.

ON WEDNESDAY, ASHLEY WASN'T in school. At
lunch I stood in the doorway of the cafeteria with my
brown bag, not knowing what to do. Then I started walking. At the center table was the usual gang, all of Ashley's
friends. Whispering, giggling, tossing their hair ... not
waving me over. Right. I walked past them, holding my
breath, looking straight ahead.

Nola and Georgie would understand, I knew they
would. They had to. So, I hadn't sat with them for two
weeks. So, people make mistakes, right? First, I'd explain
it to them. Then they'd forgive me. Then we'd all say we're sorry. Then I could sit down and it would be just like
I never left.

After I walked around the cafeteria twice, I started
feeling a little panicky, light-headed. Trish would say I was
breathing too fast. Take slow deep breaths, she would tell
me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

My third lap through the cafeteria. In through my
nose. Out through my mouth. What was the matter with
me? Why couldn't I just do it? Why was it the only thing I
wanted to do was run to the bathroom and lock myself in
the stall? Stuff my lunch down my throat and ...

But then, I did it. I took one more deep breath and
walked straight over to Nola and Georgie's table. I decided to try the jokey approach. "Pardon me," I said. "Is this
seat taken?"

No one laughed.

Georgie pretended she hadn't heard me. Paula kept
right on eating potato chips. So I focused on Nola. She
was the one who hated fighting the most.

"Nola?" I said, holding my lunch bag in front of me like
a purse. "Can I sit with you guys?"

Nola picked up her sandwich, peanut butter on pumpernickel as usual. She took a careful bite, then set the
sandwich down on a napkin. She chewed, swallowed, and
looked at me. Finally she said, "Why do you want to sit
with us again, Isabelle?"

And I said, "I don't know. I guess I like it better over
here."

Nola picked up her chocolate milk and shrugged.
"Fine with me."

Georgie was tougher. "Nobody likes a fair-weather
friend, Isabelle. Make a decision and stick with it."

I thought about Ashley for a second. What would she
think when she came back to school and I wasn't sitting
at her table anymore? She had so many friends, would she
even notice?

I looked Georgie in the eye. "This is my decision," I
told her, meaning it. "I want to sit with you guys."

"Whatever," Georgie said. "Do what you want."

I did what I wanted. I sat down.

When Paula asked what it was like sitting at the
center table, I thought hard before I answered. "It was
like ... getting invited to a Halloween party that you're
really excited about. Only, when you show up at the door,
you're the only one wearing a costume."

Nola set down her milk carton. "It's a Halloween party.
Why wouldn't you wear a costume?"

"Exactly."

"Where were you today?" I said.

It was Group, and here was Ashley sitting across from
me. Trish had us doing another mirroring exercise and
we were partners again, just like we were hack before we
knew each other. Being Ashley's mirror is different when
you know her. You don't see her as some big mystery anymore. And in a way, you wish she still was. You want to
keep on believing she's this perfect person without a care
in the world.

"Why weren't you in school?" I said again. were you
sick?"

Ashley looked down, twisted a button on her shirt.
"Yeah. I wasn't feeling great this morning." She looked up and smiled. "But I'm feeling better now. Thanks."

"Sure," I said. I didn't want her to think I didn't believe
her. But really, Ashley sounded just like my mother. I'm
fine. Really. Everything's fine.

On our way out of Group, Ashley grabbed my hand.
"Isabelle. Want to go out to dinner or something? I've got
money. We can go anywhere you want."

"I can't," I said. "I have to be home. I told my sister I'd
help her cook."

"Oh." Ashley tried to smile but didn't quite make it.
"Okay."

I said, `Aren't your parents expecting you for dinner?"

Ashley shook her head. "My mom's away on her spa
week. In California. And my dad's working on this really
big case. He won't be home until late."

"What about your brothers?" I asked.

"I don't know. You never know with them."

"So, no one's home at your house?"

Ashley shook her head. "Except for Gregory."

"Gregory the cook?"

"Yeah."

"Well," I said, "you like mini pizzas?"

Ashley nodded, tried to smile again.

"Good," I said. I pulled her arm. "That's what we're
making."

Ape Face was definitely impressed, Ashley being about
the coolest person she'd ever met in her life. She wanted
to be just like her, immediately, which didn't surprise me
one bit.

"You play field hockey?" said Ape Face. "Me too! Only
in gym, but still. I'm pretty good except for my scoop pass,
which pretty much rots."

Ashley knew exactly how to reel her in. "I could help
you some time. It you wanted."

"No way! Really, Ashley? Really? That would he so
cool."

It was me and Ape Face and Ashley, all sitting around
the kitchen table, rolling out pizza dough. Spreading
tomato sauce and sprinkling little shreds of cheese. You
might think this would be weird, having Ashley Barnum
at your house for the first time, but it isn't. Not when you
know her.

The only thing I was worried about was my mother, who
would be down any second, wearing any number of nutso
personalities. I wanted her to act normal, not like she usually does, down and out, or super excited in that fake way.

"How do you get your hair like that, Ashley?" said Ape
Face. "So shiny?"

"Come on, April," I said. "Enough questions already."

"It's okay, Isabelle," said Ashley. "I don't mind. You
know what the trick is? Vinegar. A cool vinegar rinse after
you shampoo."

"Really?" Ape Face said. "Vinegar?"

"Uh-huh."

My mother walked into the kitchen wearing jeans and
a corduroy shirt. She looked not too had. Pretty soon she
was smiling and introducing herself to Ashley, like a regular mom would do.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ashley."

"You too, Mrs. Lee."

I watched my mother and Ashley smile and nod, take each other in. I watched my mother fall in love at first
sight. Because how could you not love Ashley Barnum?
She was the perfect daughter.

"So, Ashley, how do you and Isabelle know each
other?"

"From school," said Ashley. "We have the same English class."

"From Group," I said. "We have the same eating disorder."

When everyone turned to stare at me, I shrugged.
"What? It's true."

Wasn't it time someone started telling the truth around
here? Even if the truth stinks?

After dinner, my mother and Ape Face headed into the
den to watch a movie so Ashley and I could have some
time alone. This was my mother's idea, which meant she
was actually paying attention for a change. Ape Face
didn't like it, but she went along with it. Probably because
she planned to barge in on us later.

Upstairs in my room, we sat on my bed, pj'd, washed,
brushed.

"Your mom's so nice," Ashley said.

"You think?"

Ashley nodded. "Yeah.... You look alike."

I said, "No, we don't."

"Yes, you do. Your mouth or something." Ashley held
up her hand to her lips and drew a little circle in the air.
"Or your eyes."

I thought, Oh yeah? You should see her eyes when she's
not faking it for guests: red and puffy.

"And April. What a cutie."

I nearly choked on my own spit. "I'm not sure cutie is
the word."

Ashley paused. "Anyway. You're lucky."

Yeah, right, I thought. But I didn't say anything.

Ashley looked around the room, quiet for a second,
then picked up a pillow and held it to her chest. "Why'd
you tell them I'm in Group?"

"Because you are," I said. "I just don't see any point in
lying."

Ashley sat hugging the pillow, fingers wrapped around
her elbows. Her hair was pulled back in a lacey white
headband that matched her nightgown. Even when you
know her, you still can't help thinking she's so pretty it's
ridiculous. You almost want to pinch her to make sure
she's real.

"Why not?" Ashley said.

"Why not what?"

"Why not lie? Everyone does."

Ashley lay the pillow in her lap. She stroked it a couple of times like it was a cat. Then she flipped it over and
stroked it some more. The cat routine was starting to get
old.

"What do you mean?" I said, grabbing the pillow. "Like
who?"

"Like . . ." Ashley looked away. "Well, like my dad."

I wasn't sure I wanted to hear anything about Ashley's
dad. She had one, and she should feel lucky. Any dad is
better than no dad.

"What?" I said, finally. "What does he lie about?"

Ashley looked up and you could see she was trying not to cry. She was biting her lip like crazy, and her eyes were
getting red around the edges.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll tell you. You ready?"

I nodded.

"I think my dad has a girlfriend. I mean, I know he
does. I heard my mom talking about it. He kept telling her
nothing was going on, but then she found it out anyway."

I was stunned for a second. "What?" I said. "Are you
sure?"

"Positive."

"No way."

"I know," she said. Then, "They're getting a divorce."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

I handed Ashley a tissue from the box next to my bed.
She blew her nose, then held out her hand f,)r another
one. I kept handing her tissues until there was a big wet
pile between us. I did what Trish says is the only thing anyone can do. I listened.

"So," Ashley said finally, after she'd blown her nose for
the thousandth time. "That's why I wasn't in school today.
I was helping my father pack. He's, like ... gone."

"Oh, Ashley," I said. Because I didn't know what else
to say.

At one in the morning, we were standing in my kitchen.

"Let's make popcorn," Ashley said, looking through
the cabinet. "With lots of butter."

"I don't know. I don't think we should cook. We might
wake up my mom."

"Well ... cereal, then. Something."

We already ate peanut butter sandwiches. And Oreos.
When we got to the leftover pizza, I wasn't hungry anymore, so I stopped eating. Ashley didn't even notice. "Do
you have anything to drink? Diet Coke?" She ate so fast,
I felt sick just watching her. I sat back in my chair, pushed
my plate away.

"Or regular Coke," Ashley said. "Anything with bubbles."

I knew what she meant. Anything that would help her
throw up easier.

"We don't have any soda," I said. "I'll get you some
Oy'

I went to the fridge and opened the door. Behind me,
I knew, Ashley had both hands in her mouth at the same
time, stuffing the food down. I didn't want to watch her
anymore.

"Never mind," Ashley said. Before I could give her the
juice, she ran to the kitchen sink, leaned over, and threw
up. She didn't even use her fingers. When she was done,
she scrubbed everything with cleanser. Then she turned to
me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Aren't
you going to?"

I shook my head.

"You don't want to?"

"No," I said. "I don't."

I don't know who was more surprised, Ashley or me.