Page 31 of My (Not So) Perfect Plan

He thanks me and then asks if I have an extra disabled parking permit.

“No,” I say, trying not to get pissed off at him even asking. Does he think my injury is a friggin’ joke?

“Come on, man. Don’t be a tightwad.”

“Are we going or not?” I ask him. I roll my chair over to the back of his car so we can get the wheel chair inside.

“I don’t think Tina’s house has wheel chair access. You should just bring your crutches.”

I hadn’t wanted to because it seemed like swaying on a pair of crutches could be dangerous, but I hadn’t accounted for the obvious.

“You want to grab them from the step? My mom leaned them up next to the door,” I point. He heaves a sigh like he’s being put out. I want to ask him what his problem is, but I already know and am regretting having asked him for a ride. I never realized how much of a jackhole he was before. My mind goes to Claire who has been there for me whenever she could be.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Isn’t she supposed to babysit you or something?” Derek asks when we get on the road. If he was joking I would slug him in the shoulder and that would be the end of it, but he’s not.

“What’s your problem, Derek?”

“I don’t know,” he scratches his jaw with one hand. “Seems like you should just give it up, you know. I mean, you’re not on the team anymore. I know you were the quarterback, which is why it made sense for you to take so much of the spot light. And it sucks what happened to you, but you know, your time is done. You should, like, go quietly into that good night or whatever.”

I can’t even believe what he’s saying at first, but then I’m so angry I’m trembling. What am I? Like a non-entity just because I was injured? So much for team loyalty. I want to punch his smug face and keep on punching, but I can’t because he’s driving and doing me a favor. So I eat it instead, determined thatI’ll find a different ride home. Maybe coming to this party was a mistake. Maybe they all think that way. I guess I will find out.

When we pull up, he doesn’t bother seeing if I need help with my crutches before he heads up to the house. Apparently, I just need to be grateful he offered me a ride. Note to self, Evan: Whatever you might have thought before, you and Derek are definitely not friends.

There are a group of girls on the front porch, drinks in hand and they watch me as I struggle to get out of the car smoothly. It’s actually less difficult for me to get in and out of my truck without hurting my leg than it is to get in and out of the charger.

I want to curse as one of the crutches slides to the ground, two different times. I hear titters and feel like an even bigger fool, but I smile at them anyway and play it off because I know the worst thing anyone can do with these people is to give them the satisfaction of knowing that their laughter is making you uncomfortable.

“Oh, sure! Laugh at the cripple, why don’t you?” I holler. They laugh and once I actually get to my feet they cheer and I do as much of a flourishing bow as the crutches will allow.

“We didn’t think you were gonna make it,” Tina purrs when I’m at the bottom of the porch steps.

“Seems like you’d offer to help me if you actually thought that,” I say.

She smiles at me cruelly. “Why would we do that when it’s so much more fun to watch you almost fall on your face?”

I’m taken aback by the malice in her voice and words.

“Thank you, Tina. At least I know where we stand,” I say without giving anything away.

She cocks her head, as if trying to decipher my words.

“Where’s your ‘girlfriend’?” she asks, making air quotes. Her friends shift closer, their eyes fastening on us like vultures.

“You dumped her didn’t you?” Tina says, triumph in her voice. “I told you she wasn’t your type, Carmichael. You need a real woman.”

She comes closer and trails a finger down my chest. She has no idea how disgusted I am.

“Like you?” I ask.

She goes up on her toes, skimming my chest with her bust as she does so and wraps her arms around my neck.

“Exactly like me,” she purrs in my ear. My mind is repulsed by her cloying, sweet perfume, and the blatant sexuality she wields like a club. Unlike Claire, there is no restraint, no subtlety, no allure or mystique. It’s all out there for anyone, or anyone popular, wealthy, or good looking, to take advantage of. I barely register the fact that a car has stopped in front of her house. I find myself feeling sad for her because she’s going through life giving away pieces of herself and she doesn’t even know it. The car peels away with a screech. I have no doubt that Tina wants to be loved, just like any other girl if I’m being truthful. She’s just going about it all wrong.

I’m on my crutches so I can’t really push her arms off, but I do step back, forcing her arms off my neck.

“Sorry, Tina. Not interested,” I say gently.

Hurt spreads through her eyes before they harden and she turns away from me with a sneer. “That’s okay, Carmichael. I wanted to give you one more chance, but you obviously don’t deserve me if you’re choosing a fugly goody two shoes over me.”

---