Her room is all pink and purple and frills. Stuffed animals line up against her ruffled pillows, and a My Little Pony appropriately named Princess Sparkles sits on her bedside table beside a beaded jewelry box.
Judging by her room, someone might think she was five. Until they looked closer.
A slightly crumpled pack of menthol cigarettes sits tucked behind the books in her bookcase. There's a half-empty bottle of Absolut in the back of her closet. There's five or six condoms in the drawer of the same bedside table Princess Sparkle rests on.
She's got more than one bad habit.
She's got more than one secret.
It's okay, though, because she's good at hiding stuff. She keeps all the less-than-perfect stuff out of sight. She has to because she knows her father would have an instantaneous heart attack if he ever found out half of the shit she's done.
So she hides the bad habits from him. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Or her.
She hides stuff from her friends, too.
They know about the bad habits, of course. They all grew up hooked on the same ones, so there's no need to pretend there. But she hides other stuff.
She hides all the letters her mother ever wrote her tucked away in the box that the last birthday present came in. They're under her bed, within easy enough reach for her to grab them and read them all for the five billionth time, knowing that there will inevitably be a number five billion and one.
She doesn't let her friends see those.
Actually, she doesn't really have a lot of friends these days, so it doesn't matter.
She used to have a lot of friends.
Then she had, like, five friends. Then she had, like, three.
Now she has, like, one.
She figures at the rate she's going, she'll be down to zero by Christmas. Coop is self-destructing at a massively intense rate, and it's only a matter of time before she ends up in rehab. Or dead. She won't think about that possibility.
She wonders if Ryan is still her friend, and then she wonders if Ryan was ever really her friend or if they were just friends by acquaintance. She used to not like him because she didn't think he was good enough for Marissa. Now she sort of thinks Marissa's not good enough for him. If he's her friend, then maybe she has two. Which is better than one but still not saying a whole lot.
Cohen wants to be her friend. Or that's what he says. But she knows it's a lie. She should have known better than to even think that he was being honest when he said he just wanted them to be friends. He lied to her. Just like he lied when he said how much he liked. Just like he lied when he said he loved her. But she pretended not to notice when he said that because she knew it was too good to be true.
Cohen is not her friend.
It's weird, though, because he's probably the only person in the world that she would let in on all her secrets. The ones she hides from her dad and the ones she hides from her friends. She could tell him everything, all of it, and it wouldn't matter. But that's not going to happen. Because he's not her boyfriend.
And he's not her friend.
So she has one, maybe two, friends.
And then there's Zach.
Zach who transferred to Harbor just last year and doesn't really know any of her secrets. He doesn't really know her reputation. He doesn't know any of the things she used to do to get attention from boys. In fact, she's pretty sure that he thinks her stepmother is really her mother. He doesn't know anything about her.
She wonders what he would do if he ever looked closer in her room and started uncovering the secrets.
Would he still be so nice to her? Would he still be so perfect?
So mother-fucking goddamn perfect?
She really hates that. She pretends that it's great. Marissa thinks he's a good catch; her father adores him. He's the perfect boy.
And she hates it.
She doesn't want him to be that way.
She doesn't want him to be so classically attractive with effortless hair and a perfect body. She wants him to be lanky and too skinny with lots of hair that won't stay in one place no matter what.
She doesn't want him to be so selfless and so concerned with her well-being. She wants him to be unconsciously self-absorbed and talk about himself for hours on end without even noticing it.
She doesn't want him to always say the right thing all the time. She wants him to ramble endlessly and be sarcastic and make stupid jokes that make her laugh even though she tries not to because it encourages him. She wants him to stutter a little, and she wants him to slur his speech, especially when he says the letter S because she wants him to have a little lisp.
She doesn't want him to drive a brand new BMW. She wants his only form of transportation to be a stupid skateboard. She wants him to call her and ask for a ride to school. She wants him to beg her for the opportunity to drive her car when they go out.
She doesn't want his parents to be the ideal Republican Congressman and Stepford-transplant wife. She wants his father to be idealistic and liberal and the type who really tries to help people. She wants his mother to be a kick-ass business woman who can't even cook toast without burning it. She wants them to be the type of people who take in abandoned kids off the street and give them a chance at really making something of their lives.
She doesn't want him to play water polo or soccer or any other sport. She wants him to play Playstation- but only the cool stuff like Grand Theft Auto and other non-sports games.
And she doesn't want him to read four fucking newspapers. She wants him to read underground music magazines and not give a damn about what's going in New York or anywhere else.
Mostly she just wants him to be flawed. She just wants him to be a little original.
She just wants him to be Seth Cohen.
But he's not. And she's not going back to Seth Cohen, either. So she'll have to deal with this for now. With Zach. And go on pretending that she thinks he's perfect for her. Even though that's a lie because perfect doesn't necessarily mean perfect for her.
He doesn't know her.
He just looks at her and sees a pretty girl. She's even actually nice to him. He's so damn perfect that she can't help it; she would feel guilty if she ever gave him a taste of her natural bitchiness.
So she just smiles when she's with him, tries to be stoked that her dad likes him so much. She's calm and quiet around him. He listens to her and isn't just interested in himself. He's... perfect.
And the best part is, he's never in his life sailed a boat.
And even though a brand new BMW is no stupid skateboard, it's definitely a step up from a catamaran.
She feels so boring when she's with him, but that doesn't really matter because even though he's nothing that she wants, he's everything that she needs. And she knows it. He's a fresh start.
He looks at her and sees all pink and purple and frills.
But there's as much stuff hidden inside of her as there is hidden around her room. And even though he's nicer than anyone she's ever met, she doesn't think he'll ever find the cigarettes or her mother's letters.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please review.