Finding Perfection [ON HOLD]

Seeking Redemption

I was being forced to go a Christmas party I didn't really want to go to. A couple from our church was throwing the party for the high school kids to mingle outside of church services. I usually don't go to parties because most of these people are really hypocritical and judgmental. I agreed to go but only if I could drive myself. I just got my license and my dad is perfectly fine with me driving. My mom on the other hand is a bit harder.

"Mom, I'm sixteen, I have my license, and I have been able to take care of myself since I was nine year old. I think can drive myself to a church party."

"I know you're sixteen but just because the government says you can drive doesn't mean I have to let you. And I really don't appreciate your attitude." I really don't know what her problem is. I've been driving my dad's car around the field behind our house since I was six and have my own car so I'm not even using her gas. Fortunately my dad came to the rescue. With them at home I might be able to get away with not talking to anybody tonight. Could I be so lucky? The odds are not in my favor but hey, a girl's got to try.

When I first get there I notice something odd. I'm the first one there. Crap. Maybe I could just wait in the car until a few more people get here? That way the host won't try to talk to me and neither will the guests. Yeah that'll work. My luck starts now; or maybe not. Here comes Mr. Matthews.

"Hello Stephanie! Why are you sitting out here? Come on inside!" Oh man, he's wearing a light up Santa sweater and khaki pants. I look down at my jeans, tank top, and studded leather jacket feeling under dressed.

"I actually just got here Mr. Matthews. And please, I really prefer Stevie."

"Well, on any account come on inside." He beckons me inside with a 'come here' type of gesture from the open door. Through said door I can see lights strung up high and low as well as lots of Santa figurines.And so the torture begins.

"Hi Stephanie!" Oh great, the ever cheerful Mrs. Matthews. Even she's wearing heels. I'm wearing my go to pair of high heeled ankle booties.

"Hi Mrs. Matthews. And please I really prefer Stevie." I gingerly set down the box of cookies that I brought. It's like Christmas threw up in here. I swear I'm not a Grinch; I love Christmas, but it's aggressively festive in here. Lights from floor to ceiling (literally), Santa's everywhere (even the tree topper), wreaths on every door, Yule log on the TV (even though it's cold tonight and thy have a fireplace), and to top it off they have Christmas carols playing so loud that the entire house vibrates. But wait, that's not the best part. The thing is, they don't even seem to notice.

Pretty soon people start arriving and the attention is finally off of me. I go outside on the porch and pop in my ear buds. Listening to music acts as a buffer between me and the rest of the world. As long as I don't have to hear it, it doesn't have to exist. I like spending time alone, I think better when nobody else is around.

I can see inside the living room window from my spot on the porch and I can see everyone inside talking and laughing with each other over Christmas cookies and glasses of eggnog. One person in particular stands out, however. One guy walks around talking to everybody making them all laugh. He's the life of the party and the only think I can think of is that I'm so glad I'm sitting out here.

Eventually people start leaving so I get up to leave too. As I'm walking toward the door I see that a bunch of people are giving goodbye hugs. That's the kind of church we are everyone is close. So. Very. Close. My head is screaming 'Abort! Abort! Go back to the porch!' and my feet are saying 'just get out of here as soon as you can.' It's hard to go against what my body's saying so I go with that. My head is ducked down and I'm walking to the door as swiftly as possible. Sadly that was not fast enough. I got caught in a giant bear hug. I'm lost in a tangle of arms. It was a mistake to try and pry my head free. It kept getting pulled back in. When my head does manage to escape I see something surprising. Ethan is leaning against the back wall with his foot propped up grinning at me.

Ethan Miller is the most popular guy in our school and maybe even our town. He's a "good 'ol country boy". Not the 'works on a ranch' type but the kind who rides 4-wheelers, goes hunting, and drives a truck. All the girls in church are 'in love' with Ethan. It also can't hurt that he's drop dead gorgeous. Tall and muscular with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a smile that was crooked in just the right way, and eyebrows that would put Cara Delavigne to shame. Usually just one little smile, one little freaking smile, could make most girls swoon. I wish I could say that I was immune to this smile.

We were best friends. I even had a little crush on him when we were thirteen. That all ended when I thought he was going to ask me to the eighth grade formal but he asked my cousin Laura instead. I didn't talk to him for a while after that. Eventually I felt bad and was considering talking to him again but then that sadness turned back into hatred because after that dance Ethan never had a girlfriend, he had dates. He got to take his pick of any girl. Making them feel special for one date then never going out with them again. You could say that he left a trail of broken hearts except that wouldn't be entirely accurate. Most of them were still too stuck on the fact that they had gotten to go on a date with the infamous Ethan Miller to have a broken heart afterward.

But now where does that leave us? Still right here, me trapped in a bear hug and him grinning at me with his perfectly crooked smile. I'm making eye contact with him like we used to when we were kids. We had the uncanny ability to read each other's minds- That was our main form of communication- Mind reading via eye contact. I could see that he was planning something devious. Sadly I couldn't tell what exactly. I must be getting rusty. It's times like these I wished we had stayed friends. Could he still read my mind? Even if he could I wasn't going to let him read any more. I put my head back in the circle and used all of my strength to push myself out of the pile of people.

When I am completely out of the circle I look over to where he was standing and see that he's not there any more. Good. Maybe he got my mental message to back off.

After that I made it to the door unscathed. As I'm walking out to my car I'm digging the keys out of my bag and when I look up there he is, leaning against my truck.

"What are you doing here? Why are you on my truck?"

"I'm not on your truck I'm leaning by your truck, nice by the way." Did I mention he has a voice as smooth as silk?

"Thanks now answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Can't two friends talk?" The crooked smile rears it's ugly head and it takes all my strength not to jump on him.

"We're not friends anymore."

"Yeah, about that, why exactly aren't we friend anymore Steph? We used to be best friends. You do remember right?" He leans foreword and pushes himself up.

"You were the only person ever to call me Steph besides my parents and you lost that privilege a long time ago. And don't pretend that you have no clue why we aren't friends anymore because I know for a fact that you do. Now get away so that I can go home." I try to push past him but it doesn't work so well. My face runs smack into his chest.

"Fine but Ste-"I shoot him a look that could kill, "Stevie, I really do want to be friends again. I miss you. I want it to be like old times."

"Prove it. You want to be friends again? In one week you have to tell me exactly why we aren't friends. That's all you get. If you get it right then maybe I'll consider being your friend again."

"That seems fair. I'll talk to you in a week." He smiles that perfect smile and pretends to tip his hat down before he walks away. I climb in my truck and drive home.

My parents are asleep by the time I get there so I go ahead and go to bed too.

I dreamt about Ethan Miller that night.