Perfect Girl - Weebly
Perfect Girl - Weebly Perfect Girl - Weebly
though people sit in front of us, our heads are tilted back so far we can’t see them. Any farther back in the theater, it would be impossible to avoid seeing the tops of other people’s heads. Any closer, we would be unable to see the full screen. Row three is the perfect distance to truly experience floating through the universe. Through our 3-D glasses, the Space Station looks like a huge sparkplug. Or, a robotic dragonfly. It’s both beautiful and ugly, mechanical and a miracle. Inside, as I float past other space sailors, I feel giddy. I wear red, white, and blue socks. My hair hovers above my head, I do somersaults in midair and sleep in a cocoon that hangs from the ceiling. When I’m thirsty, I release a wiggly ball of water into the air and catch it with my mouth. I feel elated. Fearless. I don’t want the experience to end. At that moment, in the darkness, I understand Perry in a way I’ve never understood him before. Now, I know why his focus is so often out of this world. In space, nothing feels the same. Even though you are a tiny speck in a boundless universe, in space, you don’t feel small. You feel invincible. Sliding my 3-D glasses off my face, I turn my head and gaze at the boy beside me. But he doesn’t notice. Perry Gould is lost in space—exactly where he’s always wanted to be. As soon as we get out of the theater, Perry is a kid on Christmas morning, a jackpot winner after the third seven 154
appears on the pay line, an astronaut who takes his first step on Mars. He darts through the crowded main hall of the National Air and Space Museum, mouth dangling open, curls bobbing on top of his head, desperate to take in as much as he can before we have to leave. “The Lunar Rover! Apollo Eleven Command Module!” As cool as the IMAX film is, the museum itself is almost as awesome. Planes hang from the ceiling, a space suit stands in a corner, moon rocks are right there to hold in the palm of your hand. Perry rushes from exhibit to exhibit, aircraft to spacecraft. “The primate space capsule!” I rush alongside him, as thrilled as he is. My cheeks are pink. Again, I can’t stop smiling. Suddenly, in a corner of the Lunar Exploration exhibit, Perry stops. He faces me, holding one shoulder in each hand. My eyes gets wide. He leans close. I see his chest rising with each breath. I feel heat radiating from his shirt. My heart catapults into my throat. “This,” he says matter-of-factly, “is a perfect day. And you, Ruthie Bayer, are a perfect girl.” 155
- Page 111 and 112: sunscreen, and something I can’t
- Page 113 and 114: Only, when I see Frankie, she hands
- Page 115 and 116: IT’S THE SMELL OF CINNAMON AND BU
- Page 117 and 118: Aunt Marty beams. She races ahead,
- Page 119 and 120: Lilah impatiently asks, “What siz
- Page 121 and 122: “Nothing,” I say. “Good. Now
- Page 123 and 124: Shop, the Gap, Tower Records, Banan
- Page 125 and 126: Serrano is as excited to see Celest
- Page 127 and 128: “A Cosmopolitan, please,” Aunt
- Page 129 and 130: Celeste and Frankie excitedly bob t
- Page 131 and 132: ultimate ego trip.” Caressing my
- Page 133 and 134: oth heart and soul. Trust me. That
- Page 135 and 136: “That’s why I’m here in Odess
- Page 137 and 138: IT’S ABOUT NINE O’CLOCK WHEN WE
- Page 139 and 140: fill my daughter’s head with garb
- Page 141 and 142: “You don’t hate me, Fay. You ha
- Page 143 and 144: My mother moves even closer to me,
- Page 145 and 146: something in Wilmington, but the st
- Page 147 and 148: I can barely breathe. “You busy S
- Page 149 and 150: “Props?” “You know, setting s
- Page 151 and 152: your nose, one eyebrow or the other
- Page 153 and 154: “Tell your mother the truth.” M
- Page 155 and 156: THROUGH THE BUS WINDOW, WE BOTH WAT
- Page 157 and 158: “Let’s jam!” he shouts. The G
- Page 159 and 160: scope out each mouth-watering possi
- Page 161: “We’ll make it,” Perry says w
- Page 165 and 166: “We can’t.” “We must!” I
- Page 167 and 168: completely. My body jingles like a
- Page 169 and 170: fantasies. The reality of it is . .
- Page 171 and 172: that. Things are flying smoothly ag
- Page 173 and 174: twenty minutes, then twenty-five. I
- Page 175 and 176: the blood throbbing through my temp
- Page 177 and 178: Aunt Marty brings my mother Little
- Page 179 and 180: speaks to the coroner about Mr. Art
- Page 181 and 182: emember most about Mr. Arthur. It d
- Page 183 and 184: “Me?” At that moment, I realize
- Page 185 and 186: of the talking.” Then she added,
- Page 187 and 188: my head: For fourteen years, I’ve
- Page 189 and 190: As I look at my mother standing the
- Page 191 and 192: This year, three weeks after Mr. Ar
- Page 193 and 194: last pool of syrup with my last for
- Page 195 and 196: much smaller) head. “So do I.”
- Page 197 and 198: WE HAVE ONE LAST FAMILY DINNER—TH
- Page 199 and 200: makeup somehow remains perfect), Au
- Page 201 and 202: in Dover Mall as often as Mom will
- Page 203 and 204: “Hey,” he says to me, nodding a
- Page 206 and 207: ETERNAL THANKS TO THE AMAZING Amand
- Page 208 and 209: THE SERIOUS KISS PRETTY FACE
- Page 210 and 211: Copyright PERFECT GIRL. Copyright
appears on the pay line, an astronaut who takes his first step<br />
on Mars. He darts through the crowded main hall of the<br />
National Air and Space Museum, mouth dangling open,<br />
curls bobbing on top of his head, desperate to take in as<br />
much as he can before we have to leave.<br />
“The Lunar Rover! Apollo Eleven Command Module!”<br />
As cool as the IMAX film is, the museum itself is almost<br />
as awesome. Planes hang from the ceiling, a space suit<br />
stands in a corner, moon rocks are right there to hold in the<br />
palm of your hand. Perry rushes from exhibit to exhibit, aircraft<br />
to spacecraft.<br />
“The primate space capsule!”<br />
I rush alongside him, as thrilled as he is. My cheeks are<br />
pink. Again, I can’t stop smiling. Suddenly, in a corner of<br />
the Lunar Exploration exhibit, Perry stops. He faces me,<br />
holding one shoulder in each hand. My eyes gets wide. He<br />
leans close. I see his chest rising with each breath. I feel heat<br />
radiating from his shirt. My heart catapults into my throat.<br />
“This,” he says matter-of-factly, “is a perfect day. And<br />
you, Ruthie Bayer, are a perfect girl.”<br />
155
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