You Asked for Perfect(56)
“I know.”
“Pari could—”
“I know. Please sign it.”
Her eyes search mine. Then, she chuckles, filling out the form with an amused smile on her lips. “Hey, you’re running the show.”
*
The rest of the week rushes by. My Spanish teacher was surprised when I told her I was dropping the course, but she didn’t argue. Now it’s Friday afternoon, and I’m talking with Amir and Sook in the hallway before AP Gov.
“She told us to keep in touch,” Sook says. The agent didn’t sign her, but Sook is still bubbling with enthusiasm. “And she said I have a ton of potential and that college towns are great places to get started because there are a bunch of little venues always looking to book bands.”
“So wait, you do want to go to Dartmouth now?” I ask.
Sook nods. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I’m only seventeen, right? I have plenty of time to become a famous musician. I guess I could go and get an Ivy League education first.”
Amir raises his eyebrows. “You guess?”
Sook laughs. “I swear, I don’t know what I was thinking turning down that opportunity. Just being a privileged little shit I guess.”
Amir shakes his head and smiles at me. We’ve been texting all the time, and one night we even had an actual phone call that lasted hours, rambling about everything from our favorite Harry Potter creatures to places we’d want to live if we didn’t have to go to college to dead musicians I’d want to play music with.
But things still aren’t right between us. We haven’t kissed since before his photography show. And it’s not just because my parents grounded me after my Athens stunt.
I have something epic planned for tonight, and I hope it’ll make things good with us again. Getting everything in order has taken more time than I expected. At least my parents are behind the plan, because I had to ask for an exception to my grounding and to dip into my bar mitzvah fund.
“I’ve been talking to Clarissa,” Sook says. “And I think Malka and I might move to Athens for the summer to play our music and get comfortable on stage. I’ll miss playing with her, so we’re going to make our last months together count.”
“Really? That’s awesome,” I say as I notice Pari walking down the hallway. She’s wearing chunky headphones and a hoodie sweatshirt. On Wednesday, we both played the solo for Dr. Whitmore. I hadn’t practiced for days, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyways because Pari was masterful. When Dr. Whitmore told me I was dropping to second chair, I felt a twinge of panic, then relief. Pari deserves first chair, and I don’t need to bloody my fingers more to fight it.
“I’ll see you guys later,” I tell Amir and Sook, turning and speed-walking down the hall. “Pari!” I call. She doesn’t hear me. I walk faster, until I’m right behind her, and tap her on the shoulder. She spins around, startled. “Crap,” I say. “Sorry.”
She keeps her headphones on.
“Can we talk?”
It looks like she’s going to ignore me, but then she nods and slips off her headphones. We move around a corner, off to one of the short, empty hallways leading to an emergency exit.
“What?” she asks, voice curt.
“I’m sorry.” I tug my backpack strap. “I’m sorry about the other day. I was a jerk. This school pressure, it’s been a lot for me. I know you’re not as affected by it…”
“Ariel. What? I’m as affected as you.”
“You are?”
“Of course, I am! I’m a person, Ariel.” She shakes her head. “When I found out you were taking that computer science class? It almost broke me. I put in all that work, and I was going to lose my shot at valedictorian because I missed signing up for one class? I don’t blame you for signing up and not telling me, but you were so damn elitist about it. Like congratulations, you’re so smart. You gamed the system better.” She takes a breath. “Not to mention, I deal with a lot more shit than you do. You’re a guy. It’s cool for guys to be successful. But if a girl wants to achieve the same level of success, we’re annoying. Like we’re asking for too much.”
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t realize—”
She keeps going. “It took months, but I finally accepted that I didn’t have a chance at being number one, and then you tore into me. I was only trying to help you, and you were a jerk.” Her gaze meets mine. “I never wanted to be your competition, Ariel. I just wanted to be your friend.”
My stomach drops, her words hitting hard. After a long moment, I say, “I’m sorry. Really sorry. I was so focused on myself…I should’ve never treated you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” She shifts on her feet. “We’re all stressed. This place does that to us.”
“It used to be okay. Fun even. Remember freshman year?”
“Yeah, we were all in it together then. It was exciting. And I felt cool, you know? Smart. Capable. But then the workload got ridiculous, and people got intense, and it didn’t feel supportive anymore.”
“Yeah.”
Pari picks at her yellow nail polish. She must sense me watching. “Nervous habit,” she says. “Like your neck cracking and nail biting.”