My Kind of Perfect (22 page)

“You'll make me a beggar at the end of three months with
this deal of yours,” he whispered back to me.

“As if you’ll be one.”

We both laughed happily in the most pretense way there was
for the sake of everyone watching us from all sides. I had no clue if anyone
had seen through it but we were doing our best. We should be at least applauded
for our effort. But really, acting was one thing. But having my heart beat
unevenly along was another. I hated the latter part. I was thoroughly denying
this dreadful act but my body was going against my will and sense of better
judgment.

John let me go and headed off inside. I was busy catching my
uneven breaths which made Mr. Smith remind me, “Go along and stay close to him.
Isn't it wonderful to be with your husband every minute of the day?”

“Ha...ha...” I tried laughing off the repulsion that I was
feeling. “It... is”

I hurried on my steps and walked behind John. Folding my
arms across my chest sent darting eyes from all directions. Okay, so maybe that
was a little rude for someone who should act as the CEO's bodyguard. I kept my
hands elsewhere instead.

Arriving at his floor, John proceeded to his room. The other
bodyguard—with a sturdier body and looked far more reliable than me—already
took his place outside the door. That meant that I had to go in? Be with John?

Did I have to?

Being left alone with John in a single room hadn’t done me
any good on providing myself with psychological therapy that this uneven
breaths and pounding hearts meant completely nothing. There may have had been
this time before, like when I wrote that stupid note, that I had been swayed by
his kind acts. Although he was far kinder before compared to now. Still, like
opening the door, he still had a touch of the old Johnny I once knew.

The same old Johnny that made me think twice.

John continued on holding the door for me. “You're doing a
horrible job as my bodyguard. I wonder when Paul will get out of the hospital.”

I stepped in, feeling his sleeves brushed behind me after
the door closed. “I also wish he’ll be out of that hospital and I will be
thrown away from this job. What made him end up in the hospital by the way?”

“A bullet from an angry husband who caught his wife, which
was our guest, cheating with his best friend,” he answered.

“And?”

“I was passing about to get inside the car and then it
happened.”

“What happened?”

“The husband fired his gun. Paul threw himself in the way to
protect me. Luckily, it was his arm that got shot.” He proceeded to his desk
and started flipping of papers.

Did that mean I had to stop a bullet for him, too, if duty
called? That was horrifying. “John, I don’t think I’m ready for this job. I
mean, catching bullets is not something I usually do.”

“You don’t have to. Isaac, the one outside, will do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you really want to, I won’t stop you,” he said with
a teasing smile before he continued flipping over the pages again. So this was
what a CEO did all his life—flipped papers all day long. He grabbed his pen and
swished off his chair, looked intently at the piece of paper that he was
holding away from him. The sudden gush of seriousness on his face made me stop
on arguing with him.

“You can see from that far?” I bemused. Surely, he hadn't
got his glasses on so he was not supposed to see from that distance. That was
against the myopic rules.

“Huh?”

“That,” I pointed out how far the paper was from him.

“Oh,” he said, turning his chair around and facing the
window. “I got my contact lens prescription yesterday.”

“Contact lens? You're using contacts?” I echoed, squeaking.

“Yes, ever since I graduated from college,” he answered. “I
just stopped a while ago because they got expired.”

I nervously coughed, unable to move from where I stood. He
was using contact lens now. Today. Rewind it a little further, he was also
wearing it a while ago.

“By any chance, did you have them on this morning? You know,
the... crumpled... paper?” I stuttered nervously.

He turned around and looked straight to me. With a mocking
smile, he recited, “I think I found him. I finally did. I'm not gonna tell
anyone especially the girls cause they'll get angry. But I think I found him.
John is kind and he accepts me for who I am. He never judges me even though I
do rude things to him to please the girls. I'm beginning to see him in a new
light ever since that day he stayed by my side when Carter left me for that
girl. I think I'm starting to fall for him. This is weird but I think I found
him. But it's not like I'm gonna tell anyone. And not the girls! I just wanted
to say that I think he's the one. I think he’s the one.”

Right at this moment, I cursed his photographic memory and
the way he could memorize things in the blink of an eye. He said every word as
if it was perfectly quoted and duly uttered to torment me as I was reminded of
the latter part of that awful note I wrote before. Collapsing on the ground, I
couldn't believe that my previous confession that was meant twelve years ago
found its way to him—at the wrong place and time.

Crap.

“Did I get that right?” he mused, thoroughly blissful about
the awkwardness of the situation and how I stilled there on the floor, unable
to move or say a word in response.

What to do? Should I run? Or maybe I could pretend to
collapse due to a terrible sickness and be hospitalized for the rest of the
three-month contract?

Other thoughts flashed in my head, making me feel dizzy.
John had read the dreadful secret that I had kept from him all these years.
Never did it occur to me that he would ever get the chance to read it. I hated
my diary, my writings, my journals, and everything that reminded me about what
I felt before.

I wrote that note two months after Carter dumped me and John
had been my sole confidant during that time. He actually found me crying at the
back stairs of the gymnasium after I saw how Carter kissed Jane. No. It wasn’t
just kissing. He ate her in front of me.

Jane was one of
the girls
—the
group I had joined during freshman year. It was the usual story. I also wanted
fit in, to be popular. And Jane also knew that I had been crushing on Carter
ever since and was finally going out with him for several times. But little did
I know back then that she also liked him. And after going for him behind my
back, she finally got what she had wanted.

Thus, the eating. I mean, the kissing.

And then one day she invited me to the gym saying that Carter
wanted to see me. I still didn’t know that she already got him. It turned out
that she was planning something big, like making out with Carter in front of
everyone, including me. She made her claim and the guy then became hers.

How I felt back then? Awful. But that was just another part
of the story. The rest of the girls had sided with Jane saying that she
deserved Carter more than I do. And the reason for that? She was hotter than I
am.

Regardless, despite what Jane did, I stayed with them. But
amidst their knowing, John was the one who had been with me through all those
terrible times. He passed on hankies to me, gave me water when I choked due to
crying, pat my back, and even walked me home. That when I wasn’t with the
girls, I could be true to myself and to the hurt I was feeling for getting
betrayed and losing Carter.

It was only John who knew all that.

And that was when I started to like him even though he had
glasses and snorted like a pig. Okay, I had to admit that I liked him at some
point in time. Insane. Stupid. Or whatever you’d call it. The fact was, I liked
him. He was there when the rest of the world walked away.

However, popularity claimed the greater part of me. I
couldn’t give it up. And so the rest of our previous friendship was then hidden
away in secret meetings and occasional phone calls.

And before our high school graduation, a cute guy who
attended the same college that John and I had decided to go to together started
to notice me. You know what had happened after that. I had decided to go out
with him—the college guy, Jonathan. I was reminded that being with a nerd was
not a good idea if you ever wanted to be noticed even in college.

Or if you wanted to keep a hot boyfriend around and be
envied by all. Just like Jane said.

And so I trashed Johnny’s tearful confession on graduation
day and ended our friendship. I didn’t want to be misunderstood by college guy.
John also moved away and went to another college, making last minute transfers.

But it wasn't my fault that things turned out that way. It
was the way of the world, as if there was a certain rule that people of the
same class should go together. But I knew that somehow, my decision during that
time was wrong. Now that I had given it a thought, I had to admit that I was
wrong. I had discovered that now that school was finished, the popularity I
once thought I had hadn’t stayed with me in the years that came afterwards.

It also turned out that only a few among the girls stayed as
the girls. Actually, on my part, none of them were from
the girls
. They kind of all disappeared after high
school. For me, it had been Sandy and only Sandy who was my neighbor and
attended the same high school with me but had chosen not to be one of
the girls
.

I didn’t know why, but
the girls
all disappeared.

For John, I never heard another word from him after his
confession. I had graduated from college and the rest was history—one that
involved a great deal of being fired, dumped by guys, and trying to keep myself
perfect. I believed that by doing so, the best was there to come. But the harsh
reality was, the best never came. Instead, Johnny nerd made an unforgettable
comeback. I was in the clasp of his grandmother. I had nothing except for this
two. And the highlight of it all was this moment, right here in John's office
and him reciting the rest of that awful confession of mine.

“Kayla?” he asked, worried.

I felt a snap in my head when he got up from his chair. And
the echo of his leather shoes that were walking towards me pulled me out of my
contemplations. I felt my shoulders dropped down, seeing my life in flashes
flickering inside my head. Questioning me of what I was standing for in life.

“Stop!” I held out a hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, still getting closer.

“Nothing...” I steadied myself as I got up.

“Let me—“

“Stay back. Back off, John!” I turned away, letting off his
gaze as I headed out of the door.

“Kayla? Where are you going?” he asked me.

I didn't answer and just walked out of the room, the phone
ringing just in time to held John back. Inquisitions were thrown as I trod down
the busy halls. A few murmurs were heard but none of it sounded any clearer to
me than the loud pounding of my heart. It was as if everyone were only buzzing
and whispering extraterrestrial words around me.

I had no more face to show to anyone. The thing I had been
keeping from the world was out in the open, with the one involved reading it
himself.

Pressing the last floor, I was glad that I was the only one
inside the elevator. My phone rang. I didn’t answer it. Nothing mattered now
except for the fact that John had read that note. He knew that I had felt that
way before. Worse is, that the letter made me sound like a teenage girl who had
a huge crush on him.

It was a shame, a total shame.

I was a pretty convincing liar back then, except for my dad.
I lied to everyone about how I felt about John. They all knew that I had dumped
him with ease and that I didn’t feel even the slightest remorse about it. I did
it so cruelly—all those lying—that I started to hate myself in secret until the
guilt passed by. And knowing it now, John must be thinking how hypocrite a
person I was.

And that I had a huge crush on him before.

What was I standing for now? How could everything fall apart
this way? Who was I, really? What was I? The once perfect perception I had
about myself was slowly fading away, leaving me with nothing but muddled
guesses of what I might be.

“Kayla!” I heard John's voice as he grabbed my arm from
behind as I was walking in an empty balcony. In the end, he did manage to find
where I was. It was like finding me was embedded in his instincts.

Like that same old Johnny.

“Are you happy now?” the words escaped my mouth, wanting to
blame him for reading it rather than me for writing it myself. There was no one
around so I hadn't really felt the need to pretend that we were an endearing
couple.

“No, I don't mean to sound that way,” he tried saying.

“You must be feeling ecstatic now that you found out what I
felt way back then,” I sarcastically replied.

“I was,” he finally admitted. “But what can a letter that
was dated more than ten years ago mean now?”

“You're right. It was so old that nothing should matter
now,” I added, sharply. The sound of which made me realize that I was
convincing myself.

“That was what I was trying to say. I was flattered that you
felt that way instead of what I heard came out of your mouth at that time. But
that was just part of history now, right? At this point, we're just two people
who are under a contract. Nothing more,” he uttered with a hint of
apprehensiveness while saying the last part. “Why are you acting like this?”

I nudged his arm and freed myself from his grip. I prevented
my twitching mouth from saying what it was about to say. Like an image, it was
coming closer and closer to me. I wanted to say it. I wanted to get this out
even if the circumstances indicated that it was already too late.