Perfection is an illusion fueled by the perception of others.

****

Tweet was my heart, my soul, and my purpose.

She was my everything.

Neither of us were perfect. We both made mistakes. Looking back, that was okay, because every choice brought us to where we needed to be at the time we needed to be there. The one constant, our love and friendship.

There are two sides to every story and I wouldn’t trade our sides for anything in the world.

A large hand came down and landed on my shoulder, causing my umpteenth beer to slosh over the sides of the red cup. “What the fuck?”

I bounced slightly when Travis plopped down on the sofa next to me. “Hey buddeeey. How’s my buddeeey?” he slurred, sliding his upper body along the back of the sofa closer to me.

I glanced over and threw him a lazy smirk.

With a cocked eyebrow and lopsided grin, he informed me, “I gotta surprise that’s gonna make that smile and other parts of you grow bigger.”

“You’re making me really uncomfortable,” I said, leaning away.

“There are two lovelies that want to spend time with our pulsating masculinity. Their names are Heather and Melanie.”

Travis’s head flopped to the side, his gaze and wave aimed at a cute blonde and brunette standing across the room.

“They’re all yours, buddy. I’m not in the mood.” I downed more of my beer.

His head rolled back toward me. “Heather won’t leave Melanie. They travel in pairs. I want to get my hands on Heather’s pair, so you get in the mood.”

“I’m sure your immense charm will pry her away.”

“Come on. Be a friend.”

“Sorry, not tonight.”

Glaring at me, he bit out, “Not tonight… then what fucking night? I’d like to put that date on my calendar so I can stop wasting my time.”

“What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem. You and this pussy-whipped, no balls, coochie slave attitude you’ve been sporting around for months instead of a rock-hard dick.”

“Fuck you! You don’t understand.”

I pushed off the sofa, stumbling a few steps toward the back door. I needed some air and to get away from Travis’s bullshit. The room spun, and then I spun as Travis grabbed my upper arm, turning me to face him.

“I understand. You’ve been hung up on this fucking girl ever since I’ve known you.”

My fingers curled into fists as I got in his face and snarled, “Don’t you ever refer to her as this fucking girl.”

Travis took a step back, ran his hands over his face, and huffed in frustration. “What’s the deal? I thought I was finally getting my friend back. You see her for like two seconds today and it sends you into a fucking tailspin. You gotta get past this.”

I could see the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t telling me these things in anger or because he didn’t like Tweet. He knew I was in a constant struggle and he was being a friend.

“I’m trying,” I whispered.

“Try harder, dude.”

“I don’t know how.” It was pathetic how weak and defeated my voice sounded.

After seeing Tweet earlier, the rest of the day had been spent replaying the few seconds encounter over and over in my head. She looked incredible except for the sadness in her eyes. A pang of guilt pinched my stomach because I was glad to see that sadness. It meant she was as miserable as I was. She disappeared in a flash but I didn’t need a lot of time in order to take her all in. Her hair was that summer mixture of dark brown and gold. The light sprinkle of red across her nose and cheeks was either a result of being at the beach or seeing me. I hoped it was the latter. She had on a plain white tank top and a pair of black shorts that were molded to her adorable round ass. Tweet was the only girl I knew who could wear the plainest clothes, little makeup, and still look like a supermodel. The memory of her hips swaying back and forth as she darted away had my dick twitching. I turned from Travis and headed out the back door, needing that air more now than before.

Once outside, I propped myself up against the house, closed my eyes, and sucked in all the oxygen my lungs could handle.

I need to get her out of my head.

There were a few people hanging out around the pool so I concentrated on them. That was a dumbass move because most of them were hooking up. Sounds of kissing, moaning, giggling, and more moaning filled my ears. I shifted my attention to the sounds coming from inside the house. Another dumbass move. The only thing I could hear was the pounding music, which made me think of Tweet’s swaying hips, which made me think of grabbing those hips and pounding into… I had to get out of there.

As I shoved off of the wall, the back door swung open, Travis stepped out, and headed over toward me.

“It kills me to see you like this.” He paused, his eyes shifting from me to something over my shoulder. “I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t play into the rumor bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?”

His expression showed how much he was struggling with whether or not to continue. “I heard Amanda is hooking up with some guy.”

My brows scrunched together as my jaw went slack. A small chuckle of disbelief escaped me. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I care about you. You’re like a brother to me. Noah, stop pissing your life away waiting for something that’s not gonna happen.”

Glancing away, I shook my head, and said, “It’s a fucking lie.”

“How do you know?”

My eyes pierced his. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s my Tweet!” I screamed.

Out the corner of my eye, I could see the people around the pool unhooking from one another.

“She’s not your anything! When are you going to get that through your fucking head?!”

I lunged forward, landed both hands on Travis’s chest, and shoved. He stumbled back, but made no move to come after me.

“I’m not going to fight you, man.”

“Who’s the no-balls pussy now?!”

I shoved.

He stumbled back.

Party people scattered into the house.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of pity.

I shoved.

He stumbled back.

And then I tackled him to the ground.

I landed one hard punch to his jaw before he flipped me onto my back, wrapped his massive arm around my neck, and held me down. I jerked and twisted for several seconds trying to break free of his hold. Finally, the alcohol and pain took over and I gave up.

Pressing the heel of my hands into my eyes, I choked back tears, and mumbled, “We’ve shared all our firsts together.”

Alison was born and raised in Charleston, SC. She attended Winthrop University and graduated with a major in Theater. While at school she began writing one-act plays, which she later produced. Her debut novel, Present Perfect, landed on Amazon’s Best Seller List and appeared on many “Best Reads of 2013” Book Blogs. The novel won Best Book at the 2014 Indie Romance Convention Awards. The second book from The Perfect series, Past Imperfect, was published in February of 2014 and hit many Top 100 category lists on Amazon.

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