Page 42 of Perfect on Paper

When she let me open my eyes again I blinked, and Ray came into focus. She had a curling iron in her hand, and was methodically working through strips of her hair, styling them into tight curls. She started them higher than she should’ve, though, and it gave the top of her head a bumpy, uneven finish. I could’ve given her a hand, but afterthatletter, I wasn’t feeling generous. If she wanted to go to tonight’s mixer with a head full of regency curls, it was none of my business.

She seemed casual, and chirpy. If my disgust had slipped and shown on my face at any point this evening, neither she nor Brooke seemed to have noticed. At least, they hadn’t mentioned anything.

I wondered how she would react if she knew her letter was sitting back in my bedroom. If she’d notice my expression then.

Satisfied with my makeup, Brooke headed over to fuss over Ray, leaving my forehead cold in her hand’s sudden absence.

We had about half an hour before Brooke’s mom was due to drop us off at Alexei’s for a gathering of kids from the gay–straight alliances at various schools, organized by the Q&Q Club. Of course, when Brooke had asked if I’d come over and get ready with her, I’d known Ray would be there. Ray seemed to have gained a VIP pass to literally everything Brooke and I ever did together, and she’d even ended up atmyhouse without me explicitly inviting her a few times. Since they’d started dating I’d caught up with Brooke alone exactly once.Once.At school, Ray was there. After school, she was working or hanging out with Ray. On the weekends, homework and Ray.

Usually I did my best to be optimistic about it all, and convince myself I would learn to love Ray, and I should be happy my intimate dyad with Brooke was expanding.

Today, that was not about to happen. Because yesterday I had discovered Ray was a sea witch, a siren, a freaking chupacabra. I focused on my breathing, because I had asked God this afternoon to grant me the serenity to accept things I could not change, and acceptance meant slow, meditative breathing.

On Brooke’s bed, Ray pouted in front of the mirror and held the curling iron out to Brooke. “Can you do it, pleeeeease?”

Brooke rolled her eyes, but it was affectionate. “You know I love a damsel in distress,” she murmured, taking it fromher. She threaded her fingers through Ray’s mousy hair, shaking the curls out slowly, lusciously, in a way that screamed sex.

I awkwardly averted my eyes, fully aware that if I weren’t here, they’d be making out. And that they’d probably prefer it that way. Instead, now that my makeup was done, I grabbed my outfit and ducked out to the bathroom to change. Another annoying thing about Ray crashing literally everything these days: I was not comfortable enough to change in front of her.

In the bathroom, I put on my dress for the night—a turquoise sack of a thing I’d bought at Jenny’s because of its cute three-quarter sleeves, which Ainsley had then nipped in at the waist to turn into a skater cut—and finished my hair in privacy so I didn’t have to soak in the weird couple-y vibes emanating off Brooke and Ray. I wished Ainsley were here. I’d begged her to come along—she’d founded the club, after all. But she was out with some college friends at her own get-together. She’d also added a comment about how it couldn’t live up to the one she’d organized last year, anyway, becausethatmixer had a jumping castle, which honestly just made me think she was more bummed about the conflicting plans than she’d let on. At least she’d let me borrow her car for the night—she’d assured me she had no intentions of staying sober enough to drive.

When I finally headed back to the bedroom, I walked in as Brooke and Ray were mid-kiss. They ended it, giggling into each other’s mouths, then went back to fixing Ray’s hair without even acknowledging me. I wandered over to Brooke’s desk and picked up my phone, while Ray started telling a story about some senior Brooke seemed to have heard of, but I hadn’t. Then I dug through Brooke’s perfumecollection and sprayed myself, while Brooke asked Ray to make her promise not to drink any shots. Then I doodled on a spare sheet of paper while Ray invited Brooke to a family barbeque that weekend, and,come on,wasn’t it rude to invite someone to something within earshot of someone whowasn’tinvited?

I tried to tamp down my glower and checked my phone. We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago now. Brooke’s mom would be somewhere downstairs waiting for us. I got to my feet and stretched. And this, finally, got Brooke and Ray’s attention.

“Are we ready to go?” I asked.

Brooke and Ray exchanged a glance, and it was aloadedglance. A glance that said something about me, and I didn’t think it was something I’d like.

“We don’t even have our shoes on yet,” Brooke said in a long-suffering kind of way.

“Okay, cool,” I said, and an awkward layer fell over the room.

“Well,” Brooke said with a light laugh, turning to Ray. “Guess we’d better get our shoes on, huh?”

AnotherlookI was left out of.

Tonight wasn’t going to be much fun for me, was it?

Brooke had forgotten me again.

We’d finally had a moment to ourselves without Ray linking their arms together or hooping her arms in a noose around Brooke’s neck or spidering her fingers up Brooke’s back, and then Brooke had excused herself to the bathroom. She’d said she’d be right back, so I’d stayed in my spot by Alexei’s living room window, half-blended into thecurtains. Then I’d watched Brooke return from the bathroom, sway her hips to the blaring pop music as she walked through the dimly lit room, find Ray where she was talking to Jaz and an unfamiliar girl, and slide on into their conversation.

I’d expected it, but it still felt like a slap.

I scanned the room for someone to talk to. I’d already worked the room about a billion times tonight, and I was getting sick of injecting myself into conversations. My first urge was to find Finn, but he’d disappeared with a short redhead about twenty minutes earlier.

Ray laughed at something Brooke said. Her face was alight and soft. She looked innocent, there in the half-shadows. Like someone who hadn’t rigged an election she was going to lose, and then hidden it from her girlfriend, even when they started dating.

Too bad that, as of a few days ago, I knew better. Too bad for Ray. Too bad for Brooke. Too bad for me. Because now I knew Ray was wrong for Brooke, knew it with a fierce certainty. She’d hurt her, stolen something from her, and she hadn’t done a thing to fix it.

Even in the letter, she wasn’t certain. The only reason she even wanted to confess was to save face, just in case the secret came out through someone else. She didn’t want to confess for Brooke. If she loved Brooke, it shouldn’t be a question.

But what could I do with information I shouldn’t have?

I tore my eyes away from Brooke and spun my empty cup between my fingers, then wandered over to the occupied couch and slumped down in a free spot. I aimed it wrong and my hip bumped against Hunter, Brougham and Finn’s friend. Finn had brought along both Hunter and Luke. He said it was because they were allies, but I suspected it wasmore to do with how those two preferred to party. “Oh, sorry,” I said.

“It’s cool,” Hunter said, distracted, as he shifted over to make room for me. He was leaning forward, holding his phone between his knees as he composed a text. I glanced down at his screen, tipsy enough that I’d read his message before I realized how rude I was being.

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