Tomorrow I need to stop by Jason’s place and get the notes from Ethics class and then go get my car washed. Shit! I’m supposed to meet Mom in a couple of hours for dinner. She must be feeling guilty about something. Whenever she thinks she’s not being a good mother, which isn’t often, she either buys me an expensive gift or takes me to a fancy restaurant. She asks me a few inane questions, that I mindlessly answer, and then we stare at each other for an hour. This charade seems to soothe her guilt and at least I get a good meal out of it.
“Faster, Brad! I need it faster!” she moaned.
I’m going as fast as I can. I’m not a f*cking hummingbird. She was the one who needed to hurry up. I liked Becca, okay, but she took forever to come. When we first started this “relationship”, for lack of a better word, it was a challenge. I tried to beat my best time, but now I’m over it, and ready to move on. For the past three weeks I’ve been dropping hints that things were coming to an end, but she doesn’t seem to be picking up on any of them. It wasn’t that I didn’t like having her around. She ran a lot of errands for me and did my laundry every week, which really freed up my time. I could feel she was getting too attached and thinking we were something more than we were. So, tonight was it. One last goodbye f*ck and I was out of her and here, if she’d finish already.
“Right there, baby. I’m almost there,” she yelled out.
“Becca, I have to meet my mom for dinner in like two hours,” I grunted.
I thrust into her hard one more time causing her to finally come unglued.
“Ooooh, Brad! Brad! Brad! I love you!” she screamed.
Shit, this was going to be awkward.
I started to climb off of her when her arms wrapped around my neck, stopping me.
“Don’t move yet. Stay inside of me for a while, baby.” The grip she had on my neck was like a vise.
“I can’t, Becca. I told you I have plans tonight.”
I saw tears start to pool in her eyes as her grip loosened. I slid out and off of her as quickly as possible. I need to go ahead and let her know this was the end of the road for us. Tossing the condom in the trashcan, I quickly threw on my boxers and jeans. Glancing back, I saw her lying on her side, curled up in a ball, watching me. A few tears had managed to roll down her cheeks. I shrugged my shirt on and started to button it. Neither of us had said a word. I felt her eyes burning a hole in my back.
Regardless of what women think, it’s difficult for a guy when he has to breakup with them. There are usually tears and either furry or begging. I’d rather deal with hate and anger because it makes for a quick getaway and only reinforces that the breakup is the right call. The beggars were difficult. I’m always physically attracted to the girls I’m with, otherwise I wouldn’t be f*cking them. Things usually fell apart for me when they opened their mouths to talk. I’d never been very interested in listening to whatever they were talking about. There has only been one exception to this, Amanda Kelly. I really liked what came out of her mouth. I liked Becca, but I liked her more for her ability to get the wrinkles out of my shirts than anything else. I inhaled a deep breath before turning around.
As our eyes locked I got a strange feeling that what I was about to do was going to hurt her more than the others.
Turning around, I cleared my throat, and said, “Becca, I think we’re done.”
“I know, you said you have plans and you’re dressed already,” she said quietly, struggling to hold her voice steady.
“I’m not talking about tonight. It’s time we move on.”
Slowly raising herself up on to her elbows, she blinked a couple of times in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”
Sweet Jesus, this girl’s got a four point zero average. Apparently, book smarts doesn’t translate into real life comprehension.
“I’m going to start seeing other people and so should you,” I said as neutral as possible. My intention is never to be mean, but if the chick pushes me, I have no problem laying it out there.
“I don’t want to see other people. What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing. In fact, you do my laundry better than our maid.”
“Is it because I said I loved you?” Panic was starting to show through her tone. “You don’t have to say it back right now, if you don’t feel it yet.”
The look in her eyes was pathetic. I don’t understand why girls can’t just let things go. Why do they need to dig and dig for an answer or explanation until they force a guy to hurt them in order to get the point across? I didn’t have the time or patience to deal with a beggar today. I needed to turn her into a hater, so I wouldn’t be late for dinner.
“Becca, the thing is I’m never going to feel it for you.”
“Why?” Her voice cracked and tears were streaming down her face.
“Because, I’m just not.” I glanced at my watch seeing the time ticking away rapidly as my impatience grew.
“But, I’ve always done everything you asked me to do and I don’t think I’ve asked a lot of you. I don’t need to hear you say the words, Brad. Just don’t run because I said them.”
“I’m not running because you said them,” pausing for a moment, I knew what I was about to say would tear into her, but she left me no choice. “Becca, it was fun for a while, but now it’s over. We were never anything more than f*ck buddies, more emphasis on the f*ck than buddies. I’m done, and I need to leave now or I’ll be late for my dinner.”
Not giving her a second to respond, I grabbed my jacket, turned, and was out the door in one fluid movement.
The next day I was pulling into the campus, headed to Jason’s to pick up the notes he was lending me from class. I parked the car and started walking towards his dorm. As I rounded the corner I was met by a flurry of people and activity that caused me to stop. I recognized a lot of faculty, staff, and students standing around talking. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Shit Brad, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning,” Jason said with relief in his voice.
“I’ve had my phone turned off since last night. I forgot to turn it back on.” Mom had always outlawed cellphones at the dinner table. I should say she outlawed mine and my brother, Peyton’s, cellphones at the dinner table. She, on the other hand, said she needed hers close by for business purposes. She is such a hypocrite.
“I’m really sorry, man. Are you doing okay?” Jason asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The look Jason gave me went from concern, to confusion, to shocking realization.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?” I asked.
My gaze shifted away from him towards the crowd of people standing around the ambulance that I hadn’t noticed before.
“It’s Becca…”
Those were the last words I heard before seeing a white sheet covered stretcher, flanked by two paramedics coming out of the dorm across the parking lot. In one torrential downpour the sights and sounds flooded my senses. I heard crying, gasps, orders being yelled, car doors being slammed, and sirens.
Not looking at Jason, I asked, “What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Brad, I thought you knew. I mean I know you guys have been together for several months…I just assumed someone had already told you.”
“Told me what?”
He placed his hand on my shoulder in comfort and said, “Becca killed herself last night.”
“F*ck me.”
I sat at the computer alone and wrote Present Perfect, but this book is far from being a solo project. There were so many wonderful people that had a hand in bringing this book to life.
To Jef Bailey: Thank you for your complete support. You were patient while I freaked out over missing files, notes, and doubts. You were my eyes when mine were too tired and blurry to see and you helped me put things in perspective when I was overwhelmed. I appreciate you more than you know.
To Buster and Jack: It would be remiss of me if I didn’t thank my two silent writing partners, my dogs. Yes, you read correctly. I’m thanking my dogs. They were by my side day and night listening to me talk, laugh, cry, and curse. Only two things drove them into the other room to hide, the sound of thunder and the sound of me dropping the F-bomb over and over again.
To Kelley Forsberg, my sister: Thank you for the love, support, and encouragement not only with this book, but throughout my life. We will always share a special bond. I wouldn’t be here today without you.
To my Perfect betas: Each of you overwhelmed me with your passion and commitment. You made me a better writer during this process.
Beth Hyams (You will always be Beth Anne to me. I remembered the ‘e’.): You’ve been with me through everything in my life- the good, the bad, and the ridiculous. I cherish our friendship so much. It means everything to me, having you by my side throughout this journey. I love you.
Stacy Bailey Darnell (aka Princess): I would need to write a thousand more books to thank you as much as you deserve and it still wouldn’t be enough. Your support, guidance, humor, and friendship mean the world to me. Present Perfect was already a success before it was even released because through the process of creating it I got to know you better. Love ya, P!
Lisa Harley (aka HS): This is all your fault. You inspired me, guided me, kicked my butt when I needed it, and created my Cade. You have my undying love and respect.
Kristina Amit: How many messages have passed between us? A gazillion? Your insights had me rethink some things and it made them better. I hope you like how Noah wears his baseball cap now.
Ana Zaun: You need to teach a class, Indie Author 101. I can’t thank you enough for all the help and support you gave me with the overall process of self-publishing. You are my Mr. (um... Ms) Miyagi. (I was able to write this without using ‘there’ once.)
Kim Shackleford (aka Duchess): My Carolina girl sistah. I loved your notes to me. Sorry I made you cry but also thrilled. Avery is getting a fantastic mom.
Jamie Zishka: You were the first beta to give me feedback. I was excited and nervous to open that first email, but elated and touched by your response.
Nicki DeStasi: Your feedback made me smile and laugh because your words leapt off the pages with excitement. I can’t tell you how many times I read your note when I was having a bad day and needed encouragement.
Susan Miskelly: Thank you for making me look and think of things from a different perspective. It helped more than you know.
To Maria DeSouza and Editing Divas: Maria, you are one of the kindest and most generous people I’ve met. From the first time we spoke, I felt as if I had known you for years. Your edits and feedback were invaluable and made Present Perfect a better book.
To Robin Harper and Wicked by Design: I adore my cover. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want. Somehow you read my mind and then blew my mind with your design. Thank you for being patient and going above and beyond for me.
To Angela McLaurin and Fictional Formats: Thank you for not taking out a restraining order against me. I don’t usually have stalker tendencies, but I wanted the best formatter and you are the best. Your work is amazing.
To my Smurfettes: Beth Hyams, Stacy Bailey Darnell, Lisa Harley, Kristina Amit, Jamie Zishka, Nicki DeStasi, Kim Shackleford, Daisy Esquenazi, Sandra Cortez, America Matthews, Alexis Durbin, Stephanie Loftin, Dawn Costiera, and Jennifer Diaz- You ladies rock!! I’m so appreciative of all you did to help spread the word about Present Perfect.
To The Writer’s Block Group: The support, information, and encouragement you have shown me has helped push me forward to achieve my goals.
To Kindle Buddies: The first reading group I ever joined on Facebook was Kindle Buddies. I’ve met and become friends with a lot of great people through KB. I want to thank them for introducing me to so many wonderful books and authors that have touched my life and made it richer. Thank you, Crysti Perry, for starting the group and taking such good care of all of us.
To the Bloggers: An enormous THANK YOU to all of you. When I first started this journey I couldn’t quite figure out why people would spend hours and hours blogging, especially if they weren’t getting paid. As I got to know the blogging community, I “got” it. The love, dedication, commitment, and passion you show for books and authors is incredibly admirable. Thank you for all you do to support authors, especially indie authors. Your time and support is greatly appreciated.
To the readers: Thank you! I’m honored that you picked Present Perfect to read. The mark of a great book, to me, is one that makes you feel, think, and maybe look at life a little differently. I hope this book does that for you. Enjoy!
Alison was born and raised in Charleston, SC. As a child she used her imagination to write additional scenes to TV shows and movies that she watched. She attended Winthrop University and graduating with a BA in Theater. While at Winthrop she began writing one act plays which she later produced. Throughout the years she continued writing and producing several one act plays, but then life got in the way and she hung up her pen for a while. On the advice of a friend, she started writing again. In January 2013, Alison sat down at her computer and began writing her first novel, Present Perfect.
Alison lives in Charleston, South Carolina with her husband, Jef, and their two furry children (dogs). She’s addicted to Diet Pepsi and anything with sugar.