My Kind of Perfect (23 page)

‘No, Kayla. Don't let him hear a
word,’
I started scolding myself.

“Kaye,” he called me, softly. I felt my knees becoming weak.
“Look, I'm cool with that. You liked me before. I liked you before. But they
were all in the past now. There's no need to feel ashamed about it or
anything.”

I snapped with all those 'before words' he said. My
fluttering heart that was so unreal when I was with him told me that clearly,
as much as I hated it, I knew I liked him even now. If there was one thing I
deeply regretted my whole life that would be lying to him. I couldn’t
understand myself anymore. All I knew was that my heart said it all, clearer
than anything else I kept on telling myself even now.

“I am ashamed!” I suddenly shouted.

“About what?” he skeptically asked.

“And I hate it.” I faced him, holding his eyes in anger.
Trembling, I pursed my lips and calmed my thoughts down. There was skepticism
in his eyes, asking me what was going on.

“What are you talking about, Kaye?” he asked, absolutely
confused.

“About you calling me Kaye,” I replied.

“Then I'll stop calling you Kaye. I'll call you Kayla
starting from today,” he offered. “If that’s what you want.”

“I hate it. I hate shutting my mouth because you tell me
that I should not say everything that has been going on in my mind especially
the not so nice things you keep on talking about. I don't know what's not so
nice about me, but I... when I feel that you will be angry with what I'll say,
I'll unconsciously stop,” I said, tears forming at the corner of my eyes. “You
see the problem, I stop!”

“Kayla, what's going on?” he asked again, this time his
voice was filled with utmost concern. “You can tell me.”

“And I don't like it,” I said, vexed. “I hate shutting up
and not saying my thoughts.”

“O—kay?” He blinked.

“That's why I'll tell you this. I'll tell you what I was
feeling all this while. For the last few days that we were together,” I
muttered, holding back the tears, “I became insane.”

“Really? Is it that hard?” He was mystified.

“Shut up! Let me talk!” I demanded, stomping my foot in
anger.

He did shut up.

“I think I'm going crazy every time you hold me, when I hear
you call me with my... my nickname, when you make me feel good, when you tell
me that I can do it when clearly you know that I can't cook anything, when you
open the door for me, when you...” I stopped and caught my breath. After
resting for a while, I continued, “When you—”

John cut me off, “I get it, you hate me.”

I was caught off guard with his words. “It's not hate,
John...”

“But you said that...”

“It's not hate, you nerd.” I exhaled. “You're so stupid.”

“Then what is it?” He sighed, absolutely clueless. “And you
told me that you hate me.”

“Stupid,” I murmured to myself before I started walking
away.

Reaching for the door, I heard him call out, “Then what is
it, Kayla?”

“Go figure!”

“Wait,” he paused. “Could it be...”

I slightly opened the door before I heard him shouted, “If
you walk out of that door, I'll assume that you still like me.”

“Finally,” I breathed, talking to myself. He must be
thinking that he could black mail me with that. Like I said, I wanted him to
hear my thoughts. And to tell him that he was right, I walked out the door and
shut it behind me.

Feeling perplexed, I walked around the halls again. I was
lost in thoughts as well as literally lost. I didn't know where I ended up but
I was glad that I was out of that empty balcony and somehow opened a door that
led to the emergency stairs of the hotel.

Walking up the stairs, I ended up in the rooftop of the
hotel. I opened the door and a gush of wind welcomed me. The place was empty
except for the helicopter sign that was painted on it. And in here, the wind
was strong but not enough to sway me so I continued walking to the other end.

With so much drama tormenting my head.

The view was pleasant but I hadn't completely appreciated
them all. My mind was flooded about the things that I had done. I somehow
admitted that I liked him... now. That was so stupid of me, like the most
insane thing that I ever did all my life. If liking him back then was foolish,
liking him now was like ten times even more foolish.

The great Kayla Wilson fell for that nerd—once nerd—two
times and had actually admitted both of it. My pride was hurt, definitely. And
the worse thing was, he didn't feel the same way about me. It was all in the
past for him. Now, there was no one to catch my fall. No certainty. I should
have known better than admitting to it.

I hated it. I hated myself.

I had no idea how I should face him now, what would happen,
how did he feel after all this, what would Dorothy say, what was right, what
was wrong, how should I deal with all this, and such things. And seriously,
above anything else, what had happened to me for someone like me to like
someone like him? What was wrong with me? Was this wrong luck? Or was it a
punishment from God? But for what?

And like always, the answer for all those was blank like a
new canvas that got nothing on it. Although now, I was a wreck. I couldn’t see
deliverance in sight. The once flawless life that I had imagined was crumbled
into shards and pieces all because of John. The perfect Kayla Wilson had
already lost her face, her one and only beautiful face. She was unemployed,
entangled in a frightful mess, been dumped, continuously being dumped, and
finding her own ways to be dumped.

Taking a deep breath before letting out a hovering sigh, I
continued walking around as I traced my fingers on the waist-high wall of the
rooftop. Leaning on the wall for a moment, I focused my gaze at the busy
streets of Creeksburg. Everyone seemed to be living their lives, busying
themselves with something and having a meaningful life of their own.

I envied them as I thought how my life had been an utter
disaster from the start. That while I was busy trying to be perfect, I thought
I’d find the answer. I still didn’t. Everything meant nothing. In reality, I
had achieved nothing.

Everything was so wrong.

As I was looking down, I heard a voice call from behind, out
of breath and distressed, “Kayla, let's talk it out. Don't do anything funny
now.”

I blinked twice, thinking about what he had said. There was
so much worry and caution in his voice that it took me several moments before I
realized what he was talking about. From where I stood, there could only be one
reason why he was that troubled.

I couldn’t believe him.

I laughed to myself, realizing that he must have assumed
that I would be jumping off this building. I was about to turn and at least if
not clear everything out, maybe just pacify his mind that I didn't have such
delirious thoughts. But stopping me from doing such was my phone that was
vibrating and casting off the spooky tone that I specifically picked for ‘evil’
Dorothy.

I picked it up, still sane enough to know that I couldn't go
against her or ignore her calls. Despite what John and I were going through.
Thing is, I tried doing it once, and trust me, the price for it was hefty.
There was no way I’d ignore Dorothy again.

At first, I expected a call that was like the usual—her
telling me to do this and that, to act like this and that, and such. But what
had caught me off guard was her fretful voice as she muttered, or more like
shouted, “Kayla! What are you doing up there?”

“What?”

“Don't do anything now, dear. Just stay calm and let's talk
this over. Stay calm,” she said, sincerity echoed in her quivering voice. It
was more like she was the one who was supposed to calm down instead of me.

“Calm? What are you talking about, Dorothy?” I muttered,
completely astonished about what she wanted from me this time around. What was
this? Yoga?

“I'm down here at John's office and was about to pay you and
John a surprise visit. That was when I heard from John's secretary that she saw
you and John fighting and that you ran towards the rooftop. Don't do anything
haste, dear,” she said, almost pleading.

What in the world was happening? Why did they all think that
I was planning to commit suicide? I was not that insane to end my life. And the
situation was a bit heavy and downright perplexing, but the last time I
checked, I was just getting lost in my thoughts.

No hint of suicide or whatsoever.

“We can talk this out. Fix it. Is there a problem you’d like
to talk with me about?” she continued talking after realizing that I hadn't
answered.

“The thing is...” I carelessly muttered, annoyed why she was
being bothersome again. And that she sounded off and caring all of a sudden.
Smiling cockily to myself, I continued, “I'm actually annoyed with you. Very
very annoyed.”

“Kayla...” Her voice mellowed.

“I want to jump off from this place because you have done
everything you can to annoy me and make my life miserable. If you have known
better than messing my life, things could have gone a lot better. But look at
what you've done. You’ve pushed me this far. This is your entire fault,
Dorothy. Now watch me jump from here.”

And with that, I ended the call, feeling blissful that I had
finally taken my revenge on her—my one and only, long-awaited revenge on
Dorothy Brooks. I was a lot evil than her now. I felt like laughing wickedly,
like those villains in movies but that wasn't such a grand idea. John here
might assume that I had gone insane after I indirectly confessed to him.

“Stop!” Strong hands gripped me from behind.

I flinched.

“Don’t do this. Kaye, please don’t,” John said.

With a sigh, I told him, “I'm not gonna jump, okay?”

Upon hearing my words, his grip loosened. I got out from it
and turned around to face him. There went my heart again and thumped loudly on
its own. Then I saw him heftily exhale, the worry on his face shortly faded
away. His eyes looked right into mine as I heard him say, “That’s a relief. For
a moment, I thought you were going to jump. You scared me.”

Feeling my cheeks catching up some color, I nervously
cleared my throat. And all I managed to say was an unintelligent, “Yeah?”

He nodded before he said again, “But was that my grandma you
were talking to earlier?”

“Yes,” I told him, even laughing a little. “But don't you
worry. I just gave your grandma a little scare. No biggie.”

He wasn't pleased though. It appeared like I was the only
one who had been amused with what I had done. Talk about the world going
completely against you. I was only bluffing.

Why so serious?

And with that said, he scolded my wrong doings once again,
“I told you, stop being so mean and scaring my grandmother like that. She's
old. You know that.” He emphasized the old part. Well, she did appear old but
that woman got more than enough energy for her worn-out age.

I mumbled, “She can handle it.”

He stayed silent. His eyes narrowed in dismay once more.
Could it be anymore narrower that it already was? It was like he emphasized the
words
‘You're at fault, Kayla’
a dozen of times
in a very unique way.

Feeling that heaviness of his reprisal, I retorted, “What?”

“I told you—”

“I hate shutting up,” I finished for him, not letting him
say what he wanted to. But then what I had said just triggered the reminder of
what had happened a while ago—the mishap confession and wrecked-to-the-core
confusion it brought.

Oh, crap.

Then as expected, the atmosphere turned awkward. I saw some
shade of rose crept up on his face, and I bet that I had that same shade or
even darker right now on mine. Feeling the awkwardness as I stared at him, I
turned my gaze away and nervously pulled my hair. Now that he and I both were
aware and thoroughly reminded of the event and he was right here and standing
in front of me, I had no idea what I should say. Or do.

‘Don't say a word. Don't say a word,’
I channeled my thoughts to him and hoped that he would obey it.

“Kayla...” he started.

Crap. He said it.

Then miraculously, as if coming to my rescue, his phone
rang. I let out the breath that got caught up in my throat. I knew that I
should thank his phone later. It did save me, for real. I never appreciated
such kind of interruptions until now. And I sincerely wished that all the forms
of interruptions would come our way right at this moment.

The fact that I was experiencing such kind of misfortunes was
never new so I let the bad lucks roll and take the center stage. Any form of
interruption would do. That was how badly I wanted for this awkward moment to
never occur. Because in a while, I was certain that John would discuss
everything starting from the moment we met at the least.

He was like that.

And the expected ending would be him reminding me of what we
were now and how we should get on with this contract professionally, like what
we agreed from the start. This was John we were talking about so it was the
cleverest deduction I could ever make. And at the end of the day, I should say
another congratulations to me for getting dumped the second time for this year.
That was quite an achievement, not to mention in a short span of time.

There was also a sign that he was somewhat relieved by the
sudden call. Perchance he didn’t want to announce the bad news right now.
Taking his eyes off me, he answered the call and said, “Yes, John Brooks here.”

I breathed, fixing my hair that was messed up by the gush of
wind that passed by. Retying my ponytail, I silently tapped tip of the pumps
that I was wearing—out of sheer nervousness—and watched as John talked on the
phone. Then after several seconds, the atmosphere changed as I saw the
astonishment that was slowly painted on his face, carefully forming lines on
it.