Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

  “What did it sound like the other half of the time?”

  “Ehh,” He made a noise, like he didn’t want to answer. “Like me talking like a woman.” He raised the pitch of his voice and said, “I hope you’re not eating a candy bar for breakfast.”

  I laughed again. “That’s how I’m going to imagine all your texts sounding now.”

  “Oh, you poor thing.”

  I laughed harder. Pretty soon, he was laughing too. And then— “Oh! I just had an idea. What about your therapist? He seems decent, and if he’s court ordered, I bet they’d listen to him, and I think he’d agree that yanking you away from everything you know and love and have been working so hard for isn’t a good idea.”

  “That’s a really good idea actually.”

  “I have those sometimes.”

  He made a low grumbling noise and then there was the sound of microphone against fabric and dampened, muffled cursing.

  “Dominic? Dominic?” I wondered if I was still on speaker. After a minute I could hear him breathing heavily into the phone again. “Dominic?”

  He let out a long low grumbly breath and then, “Oh shit.” There was a shuffling noise and then a lot of vomiting. And then some more vomiting. So much vomiting.

  After, there was the sounds of the sink, and teeth being brushed, and gagging, dry heaving noises, and lots of grumbling.

  “You doing okay over there?”

  “Uhhh,” he groaned as he considered. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “No worries. As long as you’re okay.”

  He chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that, but I’m okay. Ehh, I will be. I sort of feel like shit right now. Ever notice how regret and vomiting kind of go hand in hand? It’s got its own chicken egg thing going on, I don’t know,” he let out a breath. “I should have called you first. I mean before I started drinking.”

  “Next time, you will.”

  “Thanks Kat. Thanks for always being there. I know you don’t have to be. I wish there was something I could do for you, make it even somehow, or at least try.”

  “Hmm,” I considered. “Make it even? Well, I don’t know your last name. Tell me that, and we can call it even, I think.”

  “That’s so stupid. There’s no way that makes us even, but okay, if it’s what you want. It’s Weedon.”

  Chapter 10

  The world stopped turning and I was propelled forward, both falling and floating. I couldn’t have heard that right. There was no way he’d just said Weedon.

  “W. E. E. D. O. N.” He freaking spelled it out for me.

  I tried to find words. I kept opening my mouth but nothing was coming out. My shoulders were shrugging, my head was shaking back and forth. Was I having some kind of seizure? “Okay,” some distant, more with it, part of me said, while the freaking out part of me floated away. Whoa. Was I having some kind of out of body experience? Was I disassociating from myself? What the fuck kind of overly dramatic bullshit was this? And more importantly why was it happening to sane, level-headed, rational, drama-free, me!?

  “I’m going to go to sleep now,” Dominic said.

  “Okay,” I said. Because that was all I could manage right now.

  “Goodnight, Kat.”

  “Okay. Uh— Goodnight.”

  I stood in the dim of Aunt Josie’s office, trying to figure out a way to escape the reality that had just been presented to me. I needed proof, or to disprove or… I needed more. And then I had a thought. It felt like four hundred turns and a thousand steps to get from Aunt Josie’s office, to Kimber’s bookshelf. Bottom row, all the way to the left, I dropped to my knees as I pulled last years yearbook from the shelf and flipped to the index in the back. Dominic Weedon was on 11 different pages, but I was looking for one very particular picture. I found it on page 10.

  Parkwood Panthers Varsity Football Team.

  There he was. Dominic Weedon, looking far more tan than I knew him to be, and with bleached blond hair. “Fuck,” I said, louder than I’d intended.

  “Omigawd.”

  I looked up to see Kimber kneeling next to me. No idea when she’d gotten there.

  “Is this for reals?” she asked.

  “What?” I was so confused. “How do you know?”

  “Dude. We live together. And I know how to read. I swear to God, I wasn’t trying to, but I have looked at your phone while you were texting and my brain has seen words and knew what they all meant and—”

  “Kims. This can’t go anywhere but here.” I glanced over to Kayley’s bed. She was still at the top of the bed, her legs crumpled next to her in an uncomfortable looking pile of limbs. I’d straighten her out, after I straightened this out.

  Kimber lifted her hand, her first two fingers crossed. “Is it this serious?”

  Crossed fingers is our ultimate secret keeper code. We came up with it when we were little, so it’s kind of lame sounding, but anything under the protection of the ‘Crossed Fingers Secret Keeper Code’ stays there and only there. And it can only be talked about in extreme private, between the same crossed fingers pledges, while their fingers are crossed.

  I nodded and returned the gesture.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I’m still trying to process,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I’m here if you need me.” She uncrossed her fingers and pulled me into a hug.

  “Thanks Kims.”

  I put the yearbook back and plugged my phone in to charge then helped Kimber pull Kayley away from the wall. Kimber took off Kayley’s headphones and turned off the music that was blaring through them, then we each took an arm and pulled. Kayley slept through it all. Kimber tossed a blanket over her and we both went back to our beds, and our books. Kimber became immediately immersed in the pages. I stared blankly at mine. My thoughts on a cheeky blond boy I knew. I KNEW!

  Did this change things? Should this change things? Would this ruin things? Did he already know? How could I have not known? Ugh. I hated this head spinning.

  I tried to focus on the book I’d been reading. My eyes said I’d read more than half the page, my brain remembered nothing. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my thoughts. My brain caught a sentence I’d already read a few paragraphs back, ‘She wanted to trust him, but how could she, now that she was falling in love with him.’

  No. No no no no no. I closed the book and dropped it on the floor. No more drama for today. I turned off my lamp, closed my eyes, and tried to think about nothing. Nothing. Nothing. No thing. Not a thing… nooooooooooooooooo…

  Not going to think about Dominic. Not going to think about his smile, or his hair, or why it was so blond a year ago. Not going to think about every conversation we’ve ever had. Not going to wonder about the odds of him texting me and us ending up at the same school together. Not going to think about what I know about him, that no one else does. Nope. Just going to not think at all.

  Not thinking. Not thinking.

  Definitely not thinking about the sound of his voice. Or his freaking smile. Or his eyes. Or that I would be loaning him a pencil for the rest of the semester. Or that he has no freaking idea who I am. I mean, he couldn’t, right? Could he? But… if he did, why didn’t he say anything? Maybe he’s waiting for me to recognize him? Maybe he thinks it’s funny that I haven’t? Maybe I don’t freaking know anything!? And why do I keep thinking about his stupid face? As if I needed to remember he was good-looking? I don’t need the reminder, brain! I need to stop thinking and get some sleep.

  Okay, so thinking about nothing obviously wasn’t working.

  I grabbed my phone and added Dominic’s last name to the contact listing.

  And then I had all the thoughts. All of them. Might as well, it’s not like trying to not think them was working out so well. Eventually I fell asleep. I vaguely remember dreaming of Dominic and I in Life Skills. I handed him a pencil and he said, “Look, a sheep. I think it’s here to help you sleep,” he pointed with the pencil. I looked. He was pointing at a blac
k and white dog, Bix, dressed in a sheep costume. I said, “That’s not a bird. It’s a duck.” And then I started to cry because dreams.

  I woke the next morning irritable and sleep deprived. Breakfast would definitely include coffee and painkillers this morning.

  I had a text from Dominic. It had come in just before 5am. It was a picture of all the breakfast foods in a styrofoam takeout box: pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast along side an OJ, a coffee, and a bottle of Advil.

  DW: Thanks for talking to me last night. I don’t remember most of it. Sorry if I was a total tool. I sort of have this vague memory of asking you if you had a penis? I don’t even know. I’m sort of hoping that was a dream, but just in case, I wanted to say I’m sorry if I said anything that offended you and I hope we’re still friends.

  I sort of felt like crying for some reason.

  KF: We’re still friends. Who both sit to pee… I hope you’re feeling better. I’m glad you’re eating a decent breakfast (or three). Oh, and remember to talk to your therapist about staying where you are.

  DW: LOL! What!? For the record, I don’t always sit to pee, but I was fall down drunk so, it was that or… let’s just not talk about it — or think about it. Ever again.

  Thank you for the reminder. I made a note to myself to call him but all it said was: Dr. Reid, Fuck Montana. Your reminder makes so much more sense.

  “You snooze, you lose,” Dominic said as I passed him in Calculus. It took me a minute to realize he was talking about the very middle seat, that he was sitting in. “Saved you this one,” he motioned to the one behind him.

  I stared at him for a long minute. If I didn’t know any better I never would have guessed he’d been drunk last night or hungover this morning. He looked the same as ever. I slipped into the seat behind him and stared at the back of his head while overthinking all the things. Thirty minutes later I realized I’d only completed two problems out of ten. What in the hell was happening to me right now? And why did I have this nagging suspicion that it was about a guy and not just a person. Yeah. I liked Dominic. Both versions, though I liked the text version — the real version better. I didn’t know him, so how could I be in like with him? Except I did know him, and he was —literally — right there! And I felt like I was already beginning to feel the headache of the drama crown I’d somehow stapled to my head some time last night.

  And then I had a brilliant and stupid idea. This wasn’t the same Dominic. And I was going to prove it. I pulled out my phone.

  “That better be going to calculator mode,” Ryan warned.

  “Yeah,” I nodded.

  Ryan pointed two fingers at his eyes, then pointed them at me. Then the corner of his mouth lifted and he winked at me.

  I opened up text and sent a quick message.

  KF: If it’s not too weird, could you send me a selfie? I got the personality and the attitude, I got the voice, but the other pic you sent is kinda fuzzy, so I mostly imagine you as a talking dog.

  It wasn’t a complete lie. Or at least, it hadn’t been before last night’s revelation.

  And then I waited.

  Nothing.

  More nothing.

  Maybe he didn’t have his phone with him?

  Or maybe… Maybe it was a different guy and the names were coincidental? And the picture was a fluke? Or? … Or the other guy was cat-fishing me using this guy’s information!? OMG!?

  Yep. I was becoming Kimber. And it was making my brain hurt. A lot.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  4th period we were blessed, or maybe it was cursed, with assigned seats. The front row was now, Annabelle, Dominic, Me, and Katlynn.

  Dominic grinned at me as he slid into the seat next to me. “Front row. It’s like a dream come true.”

  “Don’t poke the beast,” I said under my breath.

  “Front row,” he turned to Annabelle. “Isn’t this great?”

  Annabelle scowled at him.

  “We should all hold hands,” Dominic grinned, reaching his hands out to me and Annabelle.

  Annabelle slapped his hand away. I handed him a pencil.

  “I’m keeping this,” he informed. “Forever.”

  Dominic texted back during lunch.

  DW: I am a talking dog.

  And then he sent a selfie. He was in the lunchroom. He was smiling. Ryan was sitting just behind him. Life was so weird and confusing right now.

  At least I wasn’t being cat-fished. FML

  I slid into a seat in the library and put my head on the table.

  “Uh-oh. What’s this?” Adria asked not looking up from her book.

  I hoisted my head up and set my chin in my hands, elbows firmly on the table. I yawned. “I’m just tired.”

  “How come?” she pressed.“Is it because of a guy?”

  I considered. “I think it’s mostly because I didn’t sleep well.”

  “Yeah,” she looked up at me. “But was it because of a guy? A girl? Both?” she waggled her brows at me.

  “No, that’s you. I just didn’t get enough sleep and had weird dreams. Haven’t you ever just not slept well?”

  Adria shrugged. “Well, yeah, but there was always somebody else involved.”

  “Lucky you?”

  “You know it.” She winked at me. And put her hand out waiting for me to slap it. Reluctantly, I did. “Okay,” Adria snapped her fingers at me. “You nap. I’mma study. I need you to be sharp at the game later so you can be so impressed by all my sweet moves. Oh, and Jake’s too. Mostly Jake’s. I think he’s trying to impress you so you’ll tell What’s-His-Guy how…” she paused, searching for the word, “impressive he is.”

  I didn’t nap. I left and got a coffee at the gas station two blocks down instead. I saw Dominic near the drinks cooler chatting with Ryan but I didn’t talk to him.

  “You went out,” he said when we were together again in Life Skills. This time he’d managed to persuade Kayley to switch groups with him, she winked at me as she went. Sara went with her, so it was Dominic, me and Claire. I was fine with this arrangement, even if my head was still spinning about Dominic, Claire was level-headed and mellow, which is exactly what I needed at the moment.

  “Huh?”

  “I saw you at the GasSmart, earlier.”

  “Oh, yeah. I needed a coffee.”

  “I hear that. I’m on like my second Super-Caff. All the caffeine, twice the sugar.”

  “Gross.”

  “It really is.”

  This Friday’s food was soup. French onion. Ms. Young was oddly passionate about it. Kept pointing out how it was the perfect example of elegance in simplicity.

  “He so likes you,” Claire whispered to me while I was melting butter on the stove, she was prepping the beef base and Dominic was slicing onions.

  So much for mellow, I frowned. “Are you talking about who I think you’re talking about?” I so did not need this kind of drama right now. It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed my mind… a few billion times in the last 24 hours alone. But I was overthinking right now and anything overthought, is usually not worth thinking about, it’s more like a form of temporary insanity and no one should ever make any kind of decisions concerning anything they’re overthinking, that’s just embracing the crazy. I shook my head, I refused to give into to the crazy.

  “Hey, Dominic,” Claire sauntered over to the cutting board island, where Dominic was carefully slicing onions. “Is there any particular reason you’re always switching groups?”

  Dominic glanced at the group he’d left. They were laughing and giggling like old friends. “You know Sheridan,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.”

  “Is Sheridan the blond?” I asked. She was the only one whose name I didn’t know.

  Dominic nodded.

  “She’s a mega control freak,” Claire explained. “Did you know there’s a right way and a wrong way to put bread in a toaster? Because Sheridan does, and your way is wrong. She actually laid int
o me last week because the toast I made was too dry.”

  “Seriously?” I laughed.

  “Very.” Claire deadpanned then laughed. “It wasn’t funny at the time.” She laughed more. “And you know she’s just going to love Kayley,” she snickered.

  “Kayley’s gonna break her so hard.”

  “I hope so,” Claire sighed.

  “I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Dominic waved an onion slice back and forth between us.

  “Only kind of,” Claire offered. “She’s Kimber Emerson’s cousin.”

  “Wait,” he pointed to Kayley. “That girl is Kimber Emerson’s sister? That explains a lot.”

  Claire gasped, offended, “What?”

  “Oh?” I put my hand on my hip.

  “The talking,” Dominic offered, still focused on his slicing.

  “Oh, yeah. Yeah.” Claire nodded.

  It was a solid point.

  “Is that why you never talk?” Dominic asked.

  I stared at him for a long moment. Mostly because my brain had become a vortex of thoughts mostly spinning around the idea that Dominic had to know who I was, right? He had to recognize my voice at least, right? I hadn’t recognized his but… did he know? If he did, he wasn’t acting like it. Was that on purpose? After what felt like an hour but was probably only a few seconds I countered with, “I talk plenty.”

  Dominic smiled and nodded. “If you say so.”

  Fortunately the rest of Life Skills passed without any more dramatic moments. Onions were a little undercooked. Cheese was melted on bread. Dominic checked to make sure the stove and oven were turned off. We talked lightly, about nothing in particular, foods mostly. Fancy but simple soup was eaten. Dominic checked the stove and the oven again while we cleaned up. The bell rang. We gathered our things. Dominic checked the stove and the oven again. He waited until most of the class had left then went to the other stations to check their stoves and ovens.