My Kind of Perfect (19 page)

With his touch, I became even more flushed and it was like
all my blood was being directed to my face. I hastily removed his hand from my
forehead and walked towards the other room. Locking the bedroom door behind me,
I sat on the bed.

I pulled my knees up and shut my eyes closed. John. I
thought of the name. And instantly, a young man with glasses and bow tie
appeared in my head. I shook my head furiously. Then in my mind, I heard a
pig-like snort followed by the dreadful words
‘I still
like you, Kayla’
.

“It can't be,” I told myself, furiously rubbing my head to
squeeze away the thoughts. There was no way I could like someone like John.

I got up and frantically walked back and forth the room.
John was not the person I should fall for. Liking him was like admitting that I
fell for a nerd. Or in his case, it was a once nerd. But whatever. From the
start it wasn't logical that someone like me should be in love with a guy who
was once known and proclaimed as a nerd.

John knocked on the door and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Answer. I needed to answer.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” I told him.

“Okay?”

“Totally,” I assured him. I took a deep breath and told
myself that I must be wrong. There must be something wrong with me. Should I go
ahead and see a doctor? No, this couldn't be, I thought to myself as I bit my
lips as I felt even more frantic that I was now having a delusion that I was
falling for him.

Right at this moment, what I needed were answers, or at
least some form of words that would tell me what I was going through. It
couldn't be love or any romantic inclinations to that guy. What I needed was
something that would tell me that it was something else... something
reasonable... rational... or at least anything that could prove that I was not
in love.

Then as if to answer my worries, I saw a worn out magazine
under the dresser. It was dated who knows when but I was certain that there was
some horoscope in it. I hurriedly scanned the pages and finally found what I
was looking for.

As you get older, you create occasions wherein you link the
present and the past. Did you make the right choice back then? If you were to
come back and do it over again, will your decision be like before? Now you're
being confronted with a situation from the past. Trust that, despite how it may
seem, it isn't as bad as you think it will be.

I instantly threw away the magazine. It was lying. The
writer of that horoscope got it all wrong. It would be bad like a total
unimaginable disaster like never before.

“Kayla, are you still not coming out? Grandma is calling
us,” called John from outside. “And I need to get some clothes for myself.”

I looked down and saw that I was still covered with just a
robe. Opening up the closet, I saw a blue cocktail dress and hurriedly slipped
it into my body. My hair was still a mess but the knock on the door became
heavier and impatient by the minute.

As I was grabbing the hair dryer from the drawer, I heard
John said, “I'll just get some clothes and you can continue with whatever you
were doing. You're already decent, right? Let me in for a minute.”

I put the hair dryer down and opened the door. Giving him
some time to tidy himself, I told him, “Five minutes, okay?”

“I'll be out in no time,” he said before closing the door
behind him.

Making us share the same room was one of Dorothy's most
insane idea. It was bothersome. She could have made this contract easier for
both of us by considering that we were not fond of each other's company.

“John, it's already five, go out now,” I called out to him.

“What?” he asked. “I've only been here for like... several
seconds.”

“It was two minutes, it's not just several seconds,” I
murmured to myself.

“Just a while.”

Finally, at exactly five minutes, he came out—dressed in
black tie and tuxedo with hair swept back neatly. It was all business for him
now... again. I couldn't help but stare some more cause really, he looked so
handsome. Slowly, I was forgetting all of the reasons why I refused to fall for
him in the first place.

“Are you feeling unwell?” he finally asked, breaking the
awkward silence.

I snapped back to reality and hushed my thoughts. “Yeah, I'm
fine. Just need to fix my hair.”

And everything else that was going wrong within me.

After the long agony of debating with myself, John led me
downstairs where the conference would be held. Still feeling uncertain, I asked
again, “Are you sure everything will be alright?”

“I hope so. Just go along with the plan and we'll be fine,”
he said, smiling again at the hotel crew that passed by.

“What will happen if...”

“Nothing will happen, trust me. We'll get through this,” he
sounded unconvincing himself.

And as soon as we arrived at the reception hall, we were
flooded by flashes of light coming from everywhere. Then in between all the confusion,
I felt John's hand lightly placed on my waist. I spontaneously removed it but I
never thought that by doing that, it would place us in a much complicated spot.

“Are you two having a fight right now?” one reporter asked.

“Was it about her status the other day before she changed it
to being married to you?” another one asked.

They even knew that?

Amidst the confusion, John found a way to whisper to my ear,
“Don't make things harder, Kayla.”

Swallowing my pride, I reckoned that I needed to act like an
endearing wife. I forced myself to move and lean on him but my body was going
against my will.

‘I can do this. It’s all about acting now. Just a little
more...’

Then he ended my agony and pulled me straight towards him. I
instantly stiffened when we touched. It was like I was electrocuted by
something. I didn't know how my reaction turned out but I was certain that it
wasn't pleasant because the crowd in front of me was even more entranced to
believe that we were in a fight. So to please my audience, like I was supposed
to, I flashed a smile and put my arms around John.

“My wife is just shy. It's her first time being under the
spotlight so please go easy with her,” said John as he led me up front of the
hall where some chairs were placed.

I was surprised when he pulled out a chair for me. He eyed
me to take my seat and as if telling me to perform my part well. Taking a deep
breath, I sat down and faced my audience. John also did the same and took his
seat beside me. Now, I was certain that we looked like some match made in
Heaven couple in the eyes of the public—me being Cinderella who managed to snag
a prince.

Then catching me off guard, the first question soon after
came along. “When did you two start dating?”

Didn't they have some kind of rules? Like for example, they
could at least let the one being interviewed catch her breath first before they
start throwing that kind of question.

“We had been dating for about a week before the wedding but
we have known each other way back then,” answered John.

“But the wedding has been so sudden. Any particular reason
for that?” a girl wearing thick glasses asked.

John turned to me and said, “I felt like I already found
her. There's no reason to push aside the wedding when I know that she's the
one.”

I heard squeals coming from the back row from some of the
hotel staff who was watching. I anxiously gulped. I must have looked so stupid
right now. Having those words said right straight to you, no girl could just
set it aside and say that it wasn't a big deal. For in reality, it was. And for
crying out loud, I was troubled that I was feeling that it was.

The rest of the interview went on but I forgot all about it.
I carelessly answered yes and no to the question that were being thrown at me.
All that while and for the rest of that day, those particular words of John
lingered in my mind like some song in my head playing over and over again.

I felt like I already found her... I know that she's the one.

After dinner, I excused myself and headed off to some kind
of solitude. Opening the only bag that I had been able to bring along from the
day of the wedding, I found my old high school journal. Clutching it in my
hand, I zipped back the bag and headed outside the veranda.

The cold wind of the evening seeped softly on my skin, making
me shiver for a while. But it was bearable enough and I thought I could last
for several hours or so. I saw a recliner on the side and sat down on it. I
opened the next pages of my diary after that fateful confession of John in the
cafeteria where he said those words
‘I still like you,
Kayla’
.

I read some more about my every day encounter with him and
how I always regarded him as insignificant. But somehow despite my attempts to
consider him irrelevant, he managed to get into my journal. Did I really think
about him during those times?

In high school, I was made to believe that he was
disgusting. I was one of the most popular girls in school and my friends were
always picking on him so I did the same. But what my friends hadn't known was
that I knew John even before I met them and belonged to their group. It was the
summer when I was nine, one day that somehow, I never failed to remember,
especially right now.

Reading the rest of the entries, I felt exhaustion taking
over. The skies turned darker and I forgot all about the time. Folding to my
side, I rested my head for a while. I forced myself to stay awake. But to my
dismay, my eyes started to close on its own. Yawning once more, everything
started to become blurred.

“Kaye, you can't sleep here,” I heard a voice whispered from
afar.

Hmm?

I knew I must be dreaming when I heard that voice. Then I
felt some strong arms picked me up. I curled to my right as I held on to
someone. And lost in my head was the light scent of pines that I inhaled as I
tucked even closer to the one who was carrying me. For several brief moments,
the dream had been so concrete and vivid that even I didn't want to force my
eyes to open to confirm if this was real or just a dream. And just like that, I
went along and started to dream again.

“What's your name?” I asked the boy who passing by the street.
He looked up to me, nervously playing with his hands. I asked him again, “Don't
you have a name?”

“I'm...” he said, shyly looking away. “...John.”

“I’m Kayla. How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“I’m nine. So John, where do you live? My grandmother is out
and I'm hungry,” I told him, feeling another gnarl in my stomach.

“Just... there,” he pointed to the house next door.

“Oh great! Do you have any food in your house?” I happily
asked.

“Not much... I only eat biscuits,” he replied.

“Really? That's a shame. We have some bread in my grandma's
house but I don't want to eat it. I want to have some pizza,” I told him,
shaking my head. He hadn't answered so I added, “You should tell your mother to
cook you some food. Maybe that's why you are so thin.”

It took him a moment to answer, “She's gone... with a friend.”

“Really? When will she come back?” I curiously asked.

“I don't know. She don’t come home for about a year,” he
answered me.

There was sadness in his voice so I had decided to cheer him
up. “Oh come on, it can't be that bad. I'm sure she just uhmm... forget the
directions. My mom is also forgetful. Maybe you can ask your dad instead.”

I saw his lips started to shake, as if he was about to cry.
Then in a broken voice, he answered, “He also... left our... home.”

“Really?” I asked. “Then who's staying with you?”

“My grandma and grandpa,” he replied.

“Then ask your grandma or grandpa. There, you don't have to be
sad,” I said, feeling relieved that at least he had someone to cook for him. I
mean, it was bad if there was no adult who could cook for you. No one could
live with just eating biscuits.

“My grandpa is at the other town and he's busy with his job.
My grandma said that she’s also busy taking care of the house so she can't
cook,” he told me.

“She can't be busy! She's only in the house,” I angrily said.

“But she said that she is. I guess she doesn't want me, too,”
he replied and saw that he was in the verge of tears.

This couldn't be! Even if she was busy, she shouldn't just
give him cookies to eat. She should cook for him. Then I asked him, “Is she at
your house now?”

“Yes,” he answered, meeting my eyes.

I grabbed his hands and dragged him to his house. I said to
him, “Don't worry, I'll talk to her.”

He was hesitant and tried to pull me but I was stronger than
him because I eat decent meals. He stuttered, “She's scary... you can't...”

“She has to know that you're thin because of the biscuits. You
need to eat properly or you'll get sick,” I said, tugging him along.

Then I opened the screen door of their house and immediately
saw an old lady sitting on the sofa and reading a book. As soon as we were
inside, she instantly placed her book down and with a cold stare, eyed us both
intently. She was really scary.

But I shouldn't be scared of that or else John would not be
able to properly eat his meals. I placed my hands on my hips and told her,
“Grandma, John is starving. He said you only feed him biscuits. That's not
right. My mother always tells me that I should eat the right food so that I can
grow up strong. You're not feeding him right. Look at him, he's not growing
strong.”

“John, who is this little lady?” the old woman asked John.

“Grandma... she's—”

“His mother leave him to be with a friend and his father also
leave him. There's no one who can cook for him and he's sad cause he's only eat
biscuits,” I continued. “You're his grandma. You should cook for him.”