Perfect by Design

23: Kiara James

Kiara

I toss and turn in bed; nothing new. After fluffing my pillow and kicking the blanket off, only to quickly cover myself right back up for the millionth time, I finally give up on sleep.

Grabbing my iPad off of the nightstand, I find myself turning on The Office. I check the time; it's 4 am. Jayden was right. Everybody else really is fast asleep at this hour.

Maybe I just need a little help sleeping. It's perfectly normal. I roll over and reach into my nightstand, grabbing the baggie I put Jayden's pills in. My heart starts to pound in my chest, and my mind begins to race.

What if he needs these? What if he realizes I took them? What if he's already told my parents, and they're just waiting until the sun rises to confront me?

I open the bag and grab one of the tiny pills, holding it between my thumb and pointer finger. This tiny pill, one swig of water, and maybe, just maybe, I'll actually get some sleep tonight. Maybe my body will finally escape this constant state of fight or flight.

My phone lights up. It's just a message on TikTok from Tatyana, but that's not what holds my attention. My background is a picture of my dad and me after my first dance recital when I was three years old.

I stood on the stage crying the entire time. I didn't perform a single step of the routine. He was waiting in the wings like he always did at our recitals since mom was running everything. At the end, I ran off the stage right into his arms. "You were perfect, dollface. Stole the entire show." He attacked my face in kisses, and of course, I couldn't stop giggling. Naturally, my mom snapped a photo of the moment. I was terrible, easily the worst performer of the night. To daddy, I was perfect.

Me: Hi, dad. I hope you had a safe flight.

Three dots appear, and I'm honestly surprised he's awake. The dots disappear, but a message doesn't take their place. Instead, my phone begins to vibrate.

"Daddy, what are you doing awake?" I answer his FaceTime while shoving the pills under my pillow.

"I could ask you the same thing, Ki. I'm sorry we won't get to do our breakfast today. I forgot, and I shouldn't have agreed to come back to Miami early, knowing I had to cancel our plans."

"It's alright, dad. I get it; you're an old man. Your memory isn't what it used to be."

"Your mother's daughter." He shakes his head and laughs.

"That's funny because she says I'm all you."

"You were our easiest baby, Kiara. You slept all night from the very beginning. You walked and talked the earliest. Everybody always commented on how happy and easygoing you were. You were mom's easiest pregnancy—truly perfect from the start."

I'm not perfect. I want to scream it from the rooftops, but no one will hear me. Sometimes I wonder if the pressure is a figment of my imagination. They keep stacking the plates, but I'm the one holding them. From their standpoint, I carry the weight effortlessly, but I'm tired.

"I'm just a regular kid, dad."

"Just a regular kid? Give yourself more credit. You've never known how to fail at anything, dollface. My little valedictorian, future Yale alumni. You're going to change to world, kid."