The Perfection Paradox (15 page)

Hannah
glanced around, searching.

Crap crap
crap,
she thought, panicking.

"Do you need
a partner?" Hannah heard Kennedy's mellifluous voice ask
from behind her.

Hannah turned
to face her nervously.

"My friend.
She's meant to be here. She's always late…"

She could
hear herself and she sounded like a spluttering idiot.

"Well I can
partner up with you until your friend gets here" Kennedy
offered.

Hannah
nodded, trying to avoid talking so as not to humiliate herself
further.

"What's your
name?" she asked kindly.

"Hannah,
Hannah Hodge"

Hannah
answered far too quickly. There was a silence and the blocky
explosion of words Hannah had just said seemed to echo in her head,
more humiliating with every repetition.

Kennedy
picked up a ball and took a few steps back, before volleying it
effortlessly to Hannah. Hannah returned it, surprising herself. Of
course Kennedy was so absolutely talented that she even managed to
make
her
look
good.

"Have you
played volleyball before?" Kennedy asked, digging the ball back to
Hannah.

"I've played
it in gym class, but never for a team"

Hannah’s mind
wandered back to the last time she’d played volleyball.

She’d taken
half a dozen ‘accidental’ hits to the face and had gone home with a
bloody nose.

Kennedy
smiled, "With regular practice I think you'll be really good, I'm
glad you tried out." Hannah felt her face burn pleasantly; one
thing she was not used to was compliments.

"Thank you."
She replied, "You're really good too"

She cringed
at what she'd just uttered. Now it made her sound like she thought
she was as good as Kennedy.
Great
.

"Thanks"
Kennedy responded warmly.

Silence fell,
so Hannah spoke before it was dragged on long enough to be
considered awkward.

“
Do you know
where you’re going to college next year?” she enquired with
unnecessary formality. She knew it was a generic question but she
wanted to avoid any awkward silences.

Kennedy
smiled to herself, “Well, I’ve applied to quite a few, but Harvard
or Yale would be my first choices I guess, like my brothers” her
tone was casual, as if she were discussing what outfit to wear to
school the next day.

 “
How
about you?” she asked, passing the volleyball back to Hannah with
ease.

Hannah
shrugged her shoulders.

“
I don’t
know…”

Kennedy
glanced at her curiously.

Hannah racked
her brain for something more.

“
I mean, I’d
love to go to college, but I don’t think my family has the, umm,
financial… financial means for me to do it, if you know what I
mean.”

Kennedy
nodded slowly,

“
I’m sorry”
she began, “I didn’t mean to pry…”

Hannah smiled
at her reassuringly,

“
no, no, it’s
okay, it’s no big deal…”

Hannah
noticed Marie approaching in the background.

"My friend's
here, I'll let you get on with captaining" the jolly tone of her
voice warped the banal words and once again left her feeling
creepy. She squirmed at what she'd said.

Kennedy, as
always, didn’t notice, or if she had was at least kind enough not
to say. She nodded and passed the ball to Hannah.

"I'm going to
see how everyone else is doing, good luck Hannah"

Marie was
gaping at Hannah in wide-eyed astonishment as Kennedy turned and
walked away.

When Kennedy
was out of earshot, she turned to Hannah, "Did you just play
volleyball with
Kennedy
Blakewood
? How did
that
happen?” she demanded, her eyes
bulging.

"
You
 were late, so she had to play with me. Everyone else
was partnered up." Hannah explained, mock accusation rife in her
voice.

“
Yeah, I’m
sorry about that, I got held up…” Marie grinned sheepishly before
pressing on, "How was it? What was she like? Do you think you'll
talk to her more if you make the team?"

Hannah wasn't
prepared for Marie's flood of questions.

"
Firstly,
"
she started, "I won't make the volleyball team, not the varsity
team anyway. And as far as Kennedy goes, she's down to earth and
annoyingly pretty, I don't know what you were
expecting?" 

“
What about-”
Marie started to ask, but Veronica Stell shot her a withering
glance so she stopped and beckoned for Hannah to pass her the
volleyball instead.

Hannah
volleyed it the way Kennedy had and it swooped through the air in a
perfect arc.

19.

Emily, Amanda
and Sarah trundled out of Sarah’s car.

The evening
air was filled with anticipation of the night ahead.

It was 9pm;
they'd made sure they ate dinner before getting ready so they would
arrive ‘fashionably late’.

Emily adjusted the straps of her hot pink
sequin-embellished dress. She'd forced her feet into a pair of her
mother's cork wedge sandals, and had
maybe
overdone it on the eye shadow,
but she felt good, she felt like it was going to be a good
night.

She
rearranged her hair, which she had spent at least an hour
straightening and curling and crimping and generally assaulting
with hair stylers.

"Let's go,"
she said, pressing her glossed bubble-gum pink lips together. She
wondered what Hunter would think of her look. She looked fabulous
and she knew it, but she couldn't wait to see his face.

The front
door had been left open to allow guests to come and go as they
wished, and the three girls could hear music pumping through the
house. They were pleased to see the house was already full of
partygoers, drinking from red cups, dancing to the music, chatting,
and generally unwinding after the stress of receiving their SAT
results.

Hunter's best
friend greeted them on his way to the beer keg and Emily felt her
stomach flip. She was being 
noticed
. It felt good.

The trio made
their way to the kitchen where a dozen open bottles of vodka, rum,
whiskey and every other liquor imaginable stood.

The girls
grabbed a red cup each and filled them. As Emily poured some coke
into her drink, Hunter and Ryan appeared, followed by a trail of
worshipping juniors.

Emily nearly
spilt her drink. She put the bottle of coke down hastily and picked
up her cup, trying to look cool and like she hadn't even noticed he
was there.

Fuck, he’s so
handsome
, she caught herself thinking,
before shaking her head,
stay cool,
she told herself.

Hunter’s eyes
looked more dark green than their usual hazel in the dim lighting
of the kitchen. There was a light film of sweat across his face
that somehow made him look even hotter. Emily just wanted to run
her fingers through his messy mop of hair…

"Hey you"
Hunter said, tapping Emily on the shoulder, Emily turned around and
tried to act surprised. He smiled as she greeted him.

"You
look...
different
" he said indicating her hair and dress.

"Do you like
it?" she asked sweetly.

"You don't
need it, you look great just the way you are Em"

Emily felt
her face blush violently.

"Thanks
Hunter, that's really sweet", She flashed her best flirty
smile.

Suddenly the
chatter in the kitchen seemed to die down, and Emily saw Hunter
glance over her shoulder, distracted. Emily turned to see what he
was staring at.

She turned
quickly enough to see Ryan nod at Hunter meaningfully.

Though it
could’ve meant anything, Emily knew what it signalized.

She was
here
.

Kennedy had
just arrived.

She swooped
into the kitchen, Brooke at her side, all smiles and flowery
scents, undeniably splendid as always.

She wore
denim shorts, black ballerinas and a fitted white V-neck t-shirt,
making Emily feel overdressed and preposterous in an instant. Her
blonde hair was loose and tumbling down to the small of her back in
wavy curls that had definitely not taken an hour to perfect with a
curling iron.

Everything
about her seemed to be screaming “
Look at
me, look at me, I’m so beautiful!
” at
Emily.

"I’ll be
right back..." Hunter maundered, never taking his eyes off Kennedy,
before wandering towards her and offering her his cup of rum and
cola. She smiled her delicious smile and thanked him, and Emily
suddenly felt all her confidence diminish exponentially.

She poured
herself another drink and finished it in one gulp. Maybe this night
wouldn't be as fantastic as she'd first predicted. 

An hour and
five drinks later, Emily was drunkenly swaying by the large
speakers that had been set up in Ryan’s dining room. She held red
cups in both hands and was waving dramatically from side to side in
a world of her own. Someone had accidentally spilt their drink as
they walked past her, and now clumps of sticky hair were clinging
to her sweaty face and neck. She’d forgotten about the cerulean eye
shadow she’d been wearing and had rubbed her eyes wearily after the
third drink, covering the northern hemisphere of her face with
glittering blue.

She was
muttering along to her favourite movie soundtrack, still swaying on
the spot, when Hunter finally approached her.

"Are you
alright?" he asked, approaching her cautiously with what Emily
was
sure
was mock
concern, "you look like you might've had a bit too much to
drink…"

Emily rolled
her eyes melodramatically.

"Why don't
you go and find Kennedy again, I'm fine, thank you very
much"

Hunter
chuckled, "you're drunk Emily, come on, I'll get you a glass of
water"

He tried to
take hold of Emily's arm to lead her to the kitchen, but she pulled
away tipsily, "I don't need your pity" she spat at him, "There are
plenty of guys here who would be lucky to have me!"

Hunter
smiled, bemused "Em, just calm down, let's just get you some
water"

"No!" Emily
exclaimed sloppily, "I don’t want your water. Stop trying to dull
me down, I'm going to go have fun,
without
you
!" and she stumbled towards the kitchen
for another drink, slapping a junior from the football team
haphazardly on the behind. He turned around, confused, and Emily
smiled at him as seductively as possible given her current level of
intoxication. He grinned back and followed her into the
kitchen. 

Emily slowly
crept back into consciousness, She was aware of her face pressing
against something uncomfortably.

She opened
her eyes and the light shining through her window scalded her
eyeballs.

She turned
over limply, trying to block out the glare.

Her body felt
heavy and sore. Her mouth tasted vile and felt as dry as
sandpaper.

She ran her
tongue over rough chapped lips. The makeup from the night before
was clumped all over her face, making it feel oily and
dirty.

She gathered
herself for several seconds then pushed her body up into an awkward
sitting position, before dropping back down weakly.

The sudden
movements made her head feel like someone was hitting it repeatedly
with a baseball bat.

Emily lay on
her bedroom floor, the room spinning dizzily. She felt her stomach
churn and moved her head very slowly in a bid to keep the contents
of her stomach down.

She tried to
smooth out her crumpled pink dress, which was covered in dirt
blemishes as well as some mysterious stains that looked and smelled
a lot like vomit. Every second that passed she felt more and more
likely to retch, never had she felt so sick before.

This was
torture.

Emily’s
stomach lurched as she got to her feet and dropped face first on to
her bed, her body stiff with pain.

She sat up
and looked at the mirror on the wall. Her hair was frizzy and
resembled a bird’s nest rather than the effortless curls she had
been striving for the night before. Makeup was smudged all over her
face, along with several lumps of food, which hung around her mouth
sporadically.

Her handbag
and its contents were scattered across the floor in
disarray.

What happened
last night?
She thought, holding her head
in her hands.