Not That Perfect

Two months passed by. Two months passed by living in Little Falls.

I’m extremely ashamed to say that I love it here, in Little Falls. Hardly ever do I miss my home back in Los Angeles and I’ve only really thought about my old friends a couple of times. It was remarkable how quickly I was adopted into my group of friends, something that I had not expected to happen. At all. I’ve spent nearly every day of my summer with my new friends, growing particularly close to Morgan, Abby, and Austin.

Our house was almost completely furnished, with only a few things to fix and to change. And those things were usually very simple, easy to be fixed. Things that my mom couldn’t decide whether she liked or not. My room was finished, to say the very least. I had spent almost all my time at home working on it, setting up my candles just the way I liked it and placing my furniture where everything fit. I had found a couple of lanterns the other day; all of them iron, glass, and star shaped. Against my dark blue walls, the lanterns look a lot like stars in a night’s sky. I love it.

I haven’t seen Connor since the day that we first talked. Surprisingly though, I haven’t stopped thinking about him since. He was such a mystery, to put it bluntly. I was curious to know why my friends hated him so much, but I was too much of a wimp to actually ask why. They never explained how he got his scar, I wasn’t actually too sure that they knew how, and it ended up just being another mysterious thing about him. I had a feeling though that I was going to get to know him better, that we were going to become friends. Even with the short time that we spent together I had enjoyed being around him, something that didn’t happen that often.

“Rae?” My mom called from downstairs, interrupting my thoughts, “Rae, are you hungry?” She asked, her tone worried.

I brought my knees up to my chest, a difficult task from where I was sitting in my chair. I didn’t want this argument to start up again, “No, I’m not,” I yelled back, “I already ate!” I lied, hoping that that would satisfy her fears.

Thankfully, my mom hasn’t really noticed how infrequently I ate nowadays. I still eat every once in a while. I’m just not hungry as much anymore, resulting in fewer meals. I eat a couple of snacks every now and then around my mom, just to try not to worry her as much, but that doesn’t stop her from noticing my looser clothing and how little I eat at breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Honestly, I can’t blame her for worrying. It freaks me out a bit too.

“Well,” My mom said, “Ok then.”

I listened for something else, wondering if she was going to come upstairs and make me eat a sandwich or something, but she didn’t. I could hear her padded footsteps as she walked back into the kitchen, probably to feed Liv or something. “Thank you,” I whispered, pushing my bangs out of my chocolate brown eyes.

Suddenly, I stood up from my chair and started to walk out of my room. I wanted to go outside, to avoid my mother’s constant concern and worry. I ran down the steps and checked my clothes, making sure that I looked presentable to all of Little Falls, and jumped out of the front door.

Without closing the old, blue door, I sprinted down my street. Outside was perfect. The leaves on the hundreds of trees that lined Little Fall’s streets had changed into dark reds and oranges, the scent of people barbecuing their dinners filled the air, and the sky was a perfect shade of blue. It was so easy to relax out here, unlike being in my house.

After a few minutes, my sprint slowed down to a jog, and then that turned into a walk. I finally stopped when I got close to the grocery store, needing to think what I was going to do for a few moments.

“Rae?” I heard someone ask, making me jump before I turned around to see who it was. I saw Connor walking out of the grocery store, two plastic bags in each hand, “Hey there,” He said, walking over to where I was, “You ok? You’re not going to cry again, are you?” His tone was playful, making me laugh for the first time today.

“No, no,” I answered, shaking my head, “I wouldn’t let you see me like that again.” Connor nodded, seeming to understand what I meant. Honestly, I usually didn’t let many people see me upset, if I’d let anyone see me like that at all. I hate people’s pity. I decided years ago that I didn’t need it, especially after my dad died.

After his heart attack I was known as the girl with out her father. The girl whose dad died. Everywhere that I went I saw people’s sympathetic eyes; their faces mimicking the feeling that I never wanted, or deserved.

“I totally understand,” Connor said, shifting the weight of a couple of his grocery bags, “Either way though, what are you doing here?” He looked over his shoulder at the store, flashing his scar once again. I hadn’t noticed how white it was before. It was almost as white as paper. Unfortunately, it really stood out against his otherwise tan skin. I quickly reverted my eyes when Connor turned to look back at me, “Are you shopping?”

“No,” I said, “I just needed to get out of the house for a moment.”

“Don’t we all, “ Connor whispered, his tone distant. He was quiet for a second, his mind elsewhere. It surprised me how often his did this. How often I said something that obviously made him think of something that had happened before. Something that I'm sure he kept secret from everyone. Something that was just another mystery about him.

“Do you need a ride though? Back to your honey suckle covered house?” He asked playfully, finally returning his attention to me.

I smiled, “That would be awesome.” Connor nodded and started to head over to his car, putting his bags in the trunk before he walked back around to open my door.

“Sorry about the mess,” He said as he stuck his key in the ignition.

Connor’s car surprised me. It wasn’t messy, like he suggested, but it wasn't clean either. It felt lived in and very homey. It was just an old, dark blue hatchback with a guitar case and a several CD cases littering the back seat. “It’s not messy,” I whispered, buckling my seatbelt as he started to back out of his parking space.