Chasing Perfection

Chapter 1

The frigid wind lightly ruffled my hair, showing early signs of fall. It was the beginning of September, and soon, the leaves would be changing color, the night would greet us sooner, and clothes would become thicker as it steadily cools. For me, it marked the arrival of a new semester in university; a bleak repetitive cycle of attending classes, studying, and working as a waitress at Frankie's Bar and Grill.

"You look chipper," Liz quipped next to me as we walked along the sidewalk, her hands stuffed in her pink frilly sweater. Her blond curls bounced along as her short legs struggled to keep up with mine. It still baffled me that we shared DNA. She was so sugary sweet, my cousin probably shat glitter and puked sunshine and rainbows.

Ignoring her pointed comment, I asked, "Where is this place?"

"It's on campus. We're almost there," she explained patiently, already used to my surliness.

Having spent most of our childhood together, she was probably the only person on this planet capable of tolerating my particular brand of crabbiness. Eventually, even blood ties weren't enough for her to endure my moods, and she moved on to greener pastures, mainly because Uncle Pete was convinced I was part of a satanic cult.

When I told him my membership application was sadly rejected, he looked about ready to spray some holy water on me. However, much to his dismay, it seemed attending the same university renewed my cousin's mission to civilize me, as if my social ineptitude could be fixed.

Here's the issue: I didn't want to be fixed.

Thinking of my current predicament, I sighed morosely. I haven't attended a party in over a year. I grew tired of the scene, preferring solitude and the safety of my apartment walls. My behavior had been qualified as 'unhealthy', but frankly, I didn't have the patience for people. My noisy neighbors used to think I was simply shy and misguidedly tried to coax me into having dinner with them, but they quickly caught on after I told them I had an incurable and deadly allergy to people, so I had to decline, doctor's orders. They wisely never knocked on my door again.

As silence stretched between us, Liz started to fidget next to me. Oh no, she was going to do that thing with her mouth that annoyed the crap out of me: talk.

"It sure is getting chilly," she blurted out.

I rolled my eyes. "Weather? Really, Liz? What's next? Sports, celebrities, latest fashion trends?"

She huffed. "Well you're not exactly easy to talk to," she muttered defensively.

"Sorry, my creators forgot to program in communication skills when they made me," I said casually. I stopped and looked at her, my tone sobering. "Look, I'm just here to supervise, as per requested by your dad. It was either this, or planting a tracking device on you."

She rolled her eyes at the mention of her over-protective father. "I know, but it can't hurt to let loose a little, Jessie." She paused. "I really do appreciate this. I know you don't like these types of things. I just..."

I watched her quietly, knowing what she wanted to say. Liz was by the far the most sheltered person I've ever met. When she first told me she was a 20-year-old virgin, I almost called National Geographic to announce I found a new species. Seriously, she might as well had been shipped off to a convent to let her uterus wither away, god knows her father already acts like a virtual chastity belt. The last time she attempted to bring home a boy for dinner, they found Pete sitting on the porch, arms crossed, his shotgun casually leaning against the wall next to him. Suffice to say, the boy avoided her calls after that.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "Fine, I'll behave. Who knows, maybe I'll even smile."

Liz huffed. "Do you have any expressions other than boredom?"