I miss you too, Darling. I’m picking you up Sunday morning for breakfast. We can talk about all the things.
JR: Dress workout comfy so Kimber and Kayley aren’t tempted to invite themselves along.
KF: Lol. Great idea! I loves you, Julian!
JR: I loves you, too.
Chapter 9
As I nestled into the very middle seat in 3rd period on Tuesday it occurred to me how routine school had become. I’d found a groove. It was nice.
Dominic, from school obviously, tapped me on the shoulder. “Trade me seats.” He was sitting right behind me.
I chuckled. “I got here first. This time,” I added.
“Oh, I see.” He took a breath and leaned back into his seat. “Well, if that’s how you want to play it.”
“I’m going to need everybody’s attention up here,” Ryan said, starting class. Yes, Ryan was leading class, again, as was the norm. I’d only ever seen Coach Ray three other times since school started, and one of those times was at the game. “Initial test scores were as expected, but lower than Coach was hoping for, so extra credit work is basically recommended for everyone. If you’re interested in getting better than a C, talk to me at the end of class. Assignments for the week are on the board, and as always, I have a paper with video links if you’re having trouble figuring anything out.”
And that pretty much summed up this class.
I wanted a decent grade, but it’s not like I needed the credit to graduate, so even if I failed I’d be okay, and I was used to self study, so… Ugh. What. Ever. This class was mostly bullshit.
・❀・❀・❀・
English was all about avoiding Annabelle. And it wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped. She seemed to be highly territorial when it came to Dominic, so my initial tactic had been to avoid sitting anywhere near him, this proved tricky since it quickly became apparent that Dominic was also trying to avoid Annabelle, so the three of us had become embroiled in a sort of seating stand-off. We were all trying to be the last person between the three of us to pick a seat with Dominic and I trying to find a seat away from Annabelle, and Annabelle trying to sit close to Dominic while keeping me as far away from him as possible. Clearly committed to her psycho-persona she liked to drop comments like, “No one here likes you, skank.” And “Ugh, learn how to dress.” And “You smell like hot white trash.” She’d usually say her mean thing really quietly and then burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
On Wednesday, there were only two seats left when Annabelle arrived. One, at the very front of class, and one next to me. It seemed like an obvious choice to me, but, I’m not a crazy person. She picked the seat next to me. She slid into the seat and flipped her hair over her shoulder. Half rehearsed, half sudden realization she said, “You know, just because you know Ryan doesn’t make you friends.”
Whoa! What? That was the least opinion loaded statement I’d ever heard her say. I almost wanted to congratulate her on stumbling across something so fact based. But I ignored her instead. I had a plan to escalate my ignoring and start treating her as if she were invisible if she didn’t take the hint. Or, maybe, possibly, report her, which was the more mature and responsible route. But for now the plan was ignore, ignore, ignore.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only person who was tired of Annabelle’s crap. Katlynn, who was sitting behind me gasped said, “OMG, Annabelle, did you just figure out that you and Ryan aren’t actually friends? The rest of us wanted to tell you, but didn’t know what to say,” she frowned.
Annabelle’s expression went from cruel satisfaction to beaten puppy in a nanosecond. Then she burst into tears and ran, crying, out of the room.
Mrs. Wall, chased after her, coming back shortly after the bell rang. She had her hand on her hip when she returned and marched right up to my desk. “Katie? What did you say to Annabelle?”
“I didn’t say anything to her.”
Mrs. Wall took a breath, irritated. “If you tell me what you said to her, we can try and handle this in class, if not, it’s detention and the Principal’s office.”
“Mrs. Wall?” Katlynn spoke up. “She’s telling the truth. Annabelle is super rude to her every day, and she never says a thing. I was the one that spoke to Annabelle.”
“Well that’s not the story Annabelle is telling. I thought you were friends.”
It took me a second to realize who she was talking to. “Oh, you’re talking to me? No. We are definitely not friends. All she does is bully. I’m new here and the only people I really know are my cousins.”
Mrs. Wall’s expression had ‘I’m too old for this shit’ written all over it. “Would you care to tell me what you said that made her run from the room crying?”
Katlynn shifted in her seat. “I just turned what she’d said to Katie back on her.”
“Mrs. Wall?” It was Dominic from across the room.
“Just a moment, Dominic.”
“It’s relevant,” he stood and motioned to her desk.
Mrs. Wall met him at the front of the class and they spoke quietly for a minute. Then Dominic left and class continued.
I asked him about it later, he shrugged it off. “She’s got problems. It’s not about you. Just keep ignoring her, it’s the best thing you can do.”
・❀・❀・❀・
“Why do you never bring a pencil to this class?” I asked Dominic that Thursday, after having loaned him a pencil in Life Skills every single day since the first day of school.
Dominic grinned and shrugged. “Because I know I can always borrow one from you.”
“Is that so?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well, if that’s how you want to play it.”
His smile widened. “I like you. Can I please keep borrowing a pencil from you for this class? Pretty please?”
“I guess we’ll see tomorrow, won’t we?”
“Foods on Friday,” he reminded.
“Then I guess that settles it,” I grinned, knowing it settled nothing. Also knowing I would lend him a pencil anytime he needed. And that basically meant for the rest of the semester.
Overall, that Thursday had been a good day for me. School had gone okay, work had gone great, this one girl, Marnie, who’d been struggling with a pike hook to seated move managed it flawlessly, not just once but five times. Julian and I had monster pizza for dinner. Our own creation. It’s all the meats, all the veg and then you put a salad on top and smother it in ranch dressing. It’s one of the best things ever.
I brought Kimber and Kayley doughnuts for dessert, they ate them in our room while we chatted and did homework. Eventually this evolved into all of us reading, Kimber had finally made it to the book with the black wolf, so her reading was interspersed with gasps and squeals and a lot more intensity than most people have when reading. I kind of love that about her. Kayley, who had just started the same series, huffed at her and called her reactions spoilers then she put on headphones. She laid on her back with her feet up on the wall, tapping them rhythmically to the beat as she read.
I was reading a new series I’d started about faeries, who were also bikers. As I settled back to get comfy reading until I fell asleep I realized I was still dressed for the day. I took my book with me when I went to change. I thought I might have heard my phone ringing on the way back, but I wasn’t completely sure until I heard Kimber answer it.
“Kat’s phone, how may I direct your call?” I wondered who it was since she didn’t just start talking to them like she knew them. “She is here, but she walked away from her phone for a second. Would you like to wait, or leave a message with me, all old school like, or call back, or—?” I was already on my way back to our room at this point. “Oh, I’m her roommate,” Kimber trilled.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Oh, here she is.” Kimber handed me my phone. “Girl, your ringtone is shrill.”
“It’s just the standard ringtone,” I said as I took the phone from her.
“Exactly.”
She plopped back onto her bed, completely engrossed in her book again.
I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Kat? It’s Dominic.” He took a breath. “Can we talk?”
I’d never heard his voice before, but he sounded off, worried, panicked, sloshed? I don’t know. It could have been any of those things, all I knew was that he didn’t sound right, or well, or good. And I’d told him to call if he was ever feeling suicidal or anywhere near, and he’d assured me that wasn’t a possibility, but here he was, calling me. “Yeah, absolutely. Hold on one sec.” I held the phone against my chest. “I’m just going to go take this in the other room,” I told Kimber.
Kimber half waved, half shooed me away, her eyes never breaking from the page.
I went to the most secluded place I could think of, Aunt Josie’s office whatever. I huddled up in the corner by the window, next to the filing cabinet. I glanced at my phone and saw a text from Dominic.
D?: I’m not suicidal. Everything is just too much right now. Can we talk?
I lifted the phone to my ear. “I just saw your text. What’s up?”
Dominic let out a low sigh. “Wow. It’s amazing how just hearing your voice is calming. Sorry, I’ve been drinking and that’s probably an overshare.”
“You’ve been drinking?”
“Ope! My bad. And now you’re going to worry about that too, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. This isn’t happy drinking, this is ‘fuck all this shit’ drinking and you’re too young to be doing either, legally. How am I not supposed to be concerned by all that?”
“Yeah, okay,” he sighed. “I should have called you hours ago. But it was easier and, at the time, way more satisfying to liberate some of my grams vodka and get as piss drunk as I felt. And she doesn’t need it. Vodka isn’t actually a cure for arthritis.” He was rambling.
“Okay, well, are you done drinking now?”
“Yeah I think so. I kind of feel like puking.”
“You probably should. Or at least drink some water, and by some, I mean lots.”
“Hold on. Hold on.” There was muffled phone noises and the sound of running water and more muffled phone noises, followed by a crashing noise and some swearing. “Okay, that’s not going to work.”
“What’s not going to work?”
“Hold on some more.”
“Wait, Dominic? Put me on speaker.”
He didn’t hear me and I was back to hearing muffled shuffling noises. Oh boy, drunk people are fun in absolutely no way whatsoever. It always feels a little bit like dealing with a toddler that has a better vocabulary.
“Dominic? Dominic? Dominic?” I decided to just repeat his name until he answered. If that didn’t do the trick after a minute or two I’d try hanging up and calling him back.
“What? Are you trying to talk to me?” He said after the 15th or 20th Dominic.
“Put me on speaker,” I said.
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” the sound went muffled again. “Can you hear me?” he asked.
“Yes. Can you hear me?”
“Yep!”
“Good. Are you okay? What happened?”
“Well, I had this idea that I could get in the shower and that way I could drink lots of water but then I realized my phone shouldn’t go in the shower, so I got out but then I tripped and knocked a bunch of stuff off the counter, and now I’m peeing. On the toilet.”
“Okay.”
“Can you hear me peeing?”
I could totally hear it, but he sounded worried about it. “Nope.”
“I’m sitting. Do you think that makes me less of a man?”
“No. I sit all the time.”
“Well yeah, you don’t have a penis.”
“As far as you know.”
“If you have a penis, then I gotta say, you do an amazing job of tucking because I have seen all of your videos — all of them — multiple times and never would have known. Oh shit. Is it weirding you out that I’ve seen all your videos?”
“It’s fine, Dominic. I’ve seen them all several times myself.”
“Do you have a penis?”
“No.”
“I’m naked.”
“Okay.”
“But, I don’t remember why.”
“You were going to get in the shower and drink lots of water.”
“Oh yeah! But then my phone…” his voice trailed. “What am I doing, Kat?”
“Did you get a drink of water?”
“Uhm… no. Not yet.”
“Do you still have that bottle of alcohol?”
“Yeah, but it’s almost empty.”
“Perfect. Dump out what’s left and fill it with water.”
It was quiet then, but I could hear water running, and occasional frustration noises from Dominic. And then he mumbled, “Okay, little phone friend, let’s go sit in bed.”
“I think that’s a good idea,”
“Holy crap, that scared me. I forgot you were still on speaker.”
“Let me know when you’re all settled in.”
“Okay. Ah crap,” he sighed. “I forgot to turn off the lights. Are you afraid of the dark, Kat?”
“Maybe a little bit. More if I’m not wearing shoes.”
“What? That makes no sense.”
“You’ve never stubbed your toe in the dark?”
Dominic laughed. “Okay. That makes sense.”
“You wanna tell me what’s driven you to underage drinking this evening?”
He was quiet for a moment. “My mom.”
“Something happened?”
He let out a long low sigh. “She wants me to come live with her.” He made grumbly growling noise. “Apparently, a little bit of sobriety and some group therapy has given her this idea that she needs to be a better mother. That’s fair. That’s true.” He took a breath and let it out. “But she honestly thinks the best way to do this is if I throw away everything I have going on in my life and move in with her. In Montana. Mon-Tan-Nah I don’t think so!” He sucked in a breath of air and took a very big drink. I could hear the swallowing gulps. “I’m so thirsty,” he breathed. “What was I saying?”
“Montana.”
“Oooh!” he growled. “And she won’t see reason. She has a counter argument for every point I make. I tell her I’m trying to get a scholarship, she tells me she’ll pay for school. I ask how, she tells me not to worry about it, she’s got it covered. Sounds like total bull to me. I tell her I want to stay where my friends are, she tells me I can make new friends — better friends,” he slurs. “She actually said that,” he huffed. “Sports? I can play them anywhere. But what about my spot on the team? Well,” his voice became a higher pitched imitation of an irritating woman. “I’m sure the teams here have the same positions, Dom-dom, it’s the same sport after all.” And then he cackled, actually cackled.
“Yikes. Is that what your mother actually sounds like?”
“Spot on. Yep.”
“You sounded like the wicked witch of the West.”
“Yeah, that’s her, exactly. She’s prolly breeding flying monkeys up in Frozen Bumblefuck, Montana.” Dominic burped. “Excuse me. I drank that water really fast. That’s the town she lives in up there, Frozen Bumblefuck, Montana. It’s right near Hillbilly’s Butthole, Montana. Have you heard of it?”
I almost held back the laugh at his naming mockery, but a little bit escaped as I answered, “I haven’t.”
He was quiet for a minute, but I could hear him breathing As it became more even, I wondered if maybe he’d fallen asleep or passed out.
“It’s not a real place,” he blurted, slurred. “I don’t remember where she lives. I don’t care where she lives,” his tone became angry. “She left. I moved on. Because I fucking had to. I’ve got four fucking months until I turn 18, until I never have to deal with her — or any of her shit — ever again, and she’s hell bent on trying to fuck everything up for me as best she can before then.”
“But
you’re almost 18, don’t you have some sort of say?”
“Maybe? But I doubt it. My grandparents are all for it. My gramps would fricken jump for joy to be rid of me, he doesn’t care how it happens, as long as it happens. And my grams hates my mom, but she thought it sounded like the best thing for everybody. I’m not included in that, obviously.” He made a mumbled grumbling noise. “My third option would be the foster system, which means I get to live with strangers and probably have to follow a bunch of dumb shit rules like a 9pm curfew and no TV or some bullshit. And I wish I was kidding about that, but I know a girl, and that’s her fate in the system. But I could probably work with stupid rules. The bigger problem is that it doesn’t guarantee that I’ll be able to stay at the same school.” He let out a low breath. “I thought, I thought maybe — maybe — I could ask one of my friends at school if I could stay with them, but it’s kind of a big imposition and most of them don’t really know this part of my life. The ones that do, have their own problems.”
“I wish I had a solution for you.”
“I know you don’t. I would never expect you to. I just needed someone to know, someone to care. And I’m sorry I called, and it’s so late.”
I checked. “It’s barely 10pm, Dominic.”
“Oh! That’s late for me. I gotta be at work by five,” he yawned.
“Yeah, that’s early, you should definitely get to sleep soon. But I’m glad you called. I kind of like knowing what you sound like.”
“Yeah, me too. Now I’ll have a voice to go along with your texts. And by that I mean your voice, because half the time I read them, it sounds like Morgan Freeman in my head, so…”
I laughed.
“That was less funny in my head,” he started to chuckle along with me.
Kit Kat & Katie Did Page 11
