Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

  We hung out for a while, but eventually most of us ended up at Claire’s house. I’ve never been much for sleepovers with people who aren’t Julian so I went home around 11, giving rides to Kayley and some of her friends on the way.

  Dominic had sent me several texts after the game ended, telling me they’d won and sending me pics of him and his friends celebrating. I was standing behind him in the one he took of himself near the bonfire. I was looking at my phone, smiling at the selfie he’d sent me earlier.

  KF: You look so happy in all of these, but I think this one’s my favorite.

  I so wished he’d ask me why, so that I could tell him it was because of the girl in the background, but he didn’t.

  The group attending the dance on Saturday wasn’t quite as big as the night before. Kayley’s friends without dates weren’t there, and neither were Carly and Alaina. Carly had offered to be my date, but that was when she’d been worried I hadn’t been making friends at my new school.

  The Homecoming Dance on Saturday was a blast. We all squished in for a huge group photo to commemorate the evening. I got to hang out with Adria and Jake for a while, and we all danced together. Aimee and her date chatted with us for a bit, and I saw Dominic a time or two, milling around the refreshments, and holding up walls. More than a few girls asked him if he wanted to dance, but he said no every time. I thought about congratulating him on his win, but didn’t. Ryan Mathers won Homecoming King and Janie Gallagher, who was on the cheer squad, won Homecoming Queen.

  We all ended up at Claire’s house again after the dance and while I had every intention of going home before midnight, it was just past 3am when my head finally found my pillow.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  As October came to a close, the day before the fall break, we got our first mid-term report cards. I was doing great in every class but one, AP Calculus. I’d already decided I didn’t need the grade, but I did need the math credit, and I really didn’t want to transfer to Advanced Maths in the middle of the term.

  As soon as everybody was deeply intrenched in the latest assignment, I went to talk to Ryan about extra credit. He was seated at a desk at the back of class which was nice, because it meant no one would be watching our conversation.

  “What can I help you with, Ms. Smarty Pants?” he asked, his eyes on his phone.

  I leaned close and kept my voice low. “The nickname is ironic, right, considering I’m getting a…” I could barely make myself say the letter grade out loud. I leaned closer. “C minus.”

  Ryan sighed and turned his phone toward me to show me a picture of a cat standing on its hind legs with the caption, ‘Cat.’ “You didn’t join a study group did you?”

  “I’m in a study group. Parkwood Studies Inc. we meet Tuesdays.”

  “With Aimee GPA?”

  “Millington?” I asked, he nodded. “Yeah.”

  Ryan clicked off his phone and set it face down on the desk next to him. “I’m sure it’s a good group, but I meant one specific to this class.”

  “Ryan, this class doesn’t even have a teacher. How is a study group supposed to help that?”

  “Yeah…You know you’re the only person who hasn’t asked for extra credit work?”

  “Well, I’m asking now.”

  “Okay, okay, we can figure this out.” Ryan shuffled the books on his desk, pulling out the grade book for our class. “I mean, you do go to all the games, right?”

  “What? Are you being serious? Why would that have anything to do with math?”

  “It’s an attendance loophole,” Ryan shrugged.

  “Wow. Okay. Maybe I would be better off in Advanced Maths.”

  “Uh, no you wouldn’t,” he lowered his voice and leaned closer. “Coach and Mrs. Walsh have a thing; she’ll make your life hell.”

  I put my hands on my face trying to release the tension caused by the scowl that was beginning to deeply imbed itself into my expression. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Hey, Smarty Pants?” Ryan stood and ran his fingers over top of mine, sweeping them lightly down my arms, coaxing me to move my hands away from my face. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I uncovered my face to glare at him, doubtful. “This is a cheater’s optimism isn’t it?”

  He smiled makings his dimples show. I kind of hated how calm he looked. “The study group for this class meets Mondays,” he started.

  “I work on Mondays.”

  “Okay, what days have you got?”

  “Wednesdays and weekends.”

  He scribbled something on the back-side of a post-it, folded it and handed it to me. “This is me. Give me a call, we can meet after school on Wednesdays and I can help get you caught up to where you need to be, okay?”

  Not like I had a lot of other options. “Thanks, Ryan.”

  I texted him later that night and he texted me his address and a time: 3:18pm. I couldn’t decide if the odd time was cute or douchey. I was settling on douchey, but I was in a pretty nasty mood so I was also reserving the right to change my judgement.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  I wasn’t super familiar with Ryan’s neighborhood. It’s heavily treed and oddly nestled between several other neighborhoods so I felt like I was driving in circles for a bit and then suddenly I turned a corner and the houses quadrupled in size. Chainlink and vinyl gave way to iron fencing and tall hedges, driveways had parking for both boats and RVs, and the four — or more — car garages looked small compared to the rest of the house.

  Ryan’s house was a large off-white number with stone brick accents on the corners. I recognized his bright blue Porsche and it’s ‘RYAN’ vanity plate parked in the driveway. I parked off to the side of the wide driveway and was ringing the bell at the front door at 3:15. I half expected house help to open the door but it was Ryan, wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. In case you’re wondering, yeah, he has a nice physique. Broad shoulders, muscles for days, lean but not boney, doesn’t skip leg day, hand him a rubber ducky and slap him in a calendar, one of the hotter summer months. Top it all off with cool blue eyes a great smile and dimples and it just begs the question: Why are cheek dents so damned attractive?

  He was wet so he must have just come from a shower. I was in no mood for nonsense, so I put my hand on my hip and met his eyes, taking in his well sculpted loveliness with my peripheral vision, because I objectify like a lady.

  “I see you decided to round down,” Ryan smirked. “Gimme three minutes and I’ll be dressed.” He motioned me into the house and walked away, before I’d even stepped inside.

  I stepped into the foyer, closed the door and waited. Just past the foyer was a living room, it was one of those spaces that’s so big it has two living room groupings that back each other. Erik’s place, my old place, I guess, has these too. They’re super great for big parties, but kind of make a house look like a waiting room had a baby with a furniture store the rest of the time. Eh. It probably looks that way all the time, it’s just harder to see it when the spaces are filled with people. I probably could have picked one to sit in, but I waited in the foyer instead.

  It actually only took Ryan about two minutes to return dressed. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that clung to his shoulders, like he hadn’t bothered to dry off before putting it on. “Do you normally schedule your time down to the minute?”

  “No,” he smiled, running his fingers through still wet hair. “You got a preferred study spot? Table, counter, couch, bed?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “How much work space are we gonna need?”

  He lifted a shoulder, considering. “You hungry? I was gonna make a PB&J.”

  Mmm. Second lunch. “I could do a PB&J. Maybe not the J. I try not to eat a lot of sugary foods. I usually just do fruit.”

  “Me too,” Ryan grinned, happy at the coincidence. “So you’re not going to mind the healthy bread that’s not white?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “I feel like we’re alrea
dy food best friends,” he motioned with his shoulder and I followed him to the kitchen, which was also ‘proper entertaining space’ big, but had plenty of cozy spots.

  We ended up sitting at the smaller café style table nestled into one of the bay windows. Ryan made us peanut butter sandwiches with strawberries and blueberries and then sat next to me and did his very best to explain what I wasn’t getting in calculus. First by walking me through the steps of how to solve the problem, and then having me try it on my own. After my third successful solution I turned to him and said. “Wow, you know, you’re a pretty decent teacher. If only you actually taught this stuff in class.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’m the TA, and a student. I’m not allowed.”

  “Hmm. Yeah. Because Coach is really playing by the book with his class attendance. What’s he up to now, five visits?”

  “Coach has a lot going on.”

  “That’s not a very good excuse.”

  “I agree.”

  “Then why defend him? Why make excuses for him?”

  “Because he’s the coach.”

  I shook my head. “That’s…” I settled on, “ridiculous.”

  “It is,” Ryan agreed. And then he leaned in and kissed me.

  I sort of saw it coming and was sort of shocked by what was happening but I didn’t pull away, I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back.

  His lips were firm but inviting, gently parting, asking for more, and I gave it. He drew in a sharp breath and deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping over my lips, his hand on my cheek. And then he pulled back, his cheeks a deep blush, his eyes on the floor, his dimples showing. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t just take those things.” I waited for him to look up at me, but it wasn’t happening.

  “Uhm… so… what was that about?”

  “I like you,” he said with his eyes on his hands. “I like you a lot, actually.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine.

  “Oh. Since when?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Kinda since we met, but more every day I know you.”

  That’s so weird, was my reigning thought, though I wasn’t sure why.

  “I’ve kept my distance because I’m a TA and because I thought maybe you and Dominic might have something going on — and that guy could really use a little something going on, you know? But sitting in my kitchen, eating my favorite after school meal with me, I don’t know. I couldn’t fight it any more.” He leaned back in his chair, deflated and let out a low breath. “And that’s kind of a problem.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  “Because I’m a TA, because I’m tutoring you. It’s gonna look bad.” He took a breath, looked like he wanted to say something but bit his lip and shook his head instead.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking, maybe if we kinda kept this liking you, kissing you thing just between us, at least until the end of the semester, but that just feels like such a shitty thing to do.”

  “I’m not really interested in anything like a deep going steady kind of relationship, especially not while I’m still in high school, but I’m not opposed to forming relationships, and getting to know people, so why don’t we just take things slow and see were they go?”

  “I like that,” his dimples deepened. “Can I kiss you again?”

  I nodded.

  He pulled me to my feet, taking me in with his eyes, he slipped a hand around my waist and pulled me close. His other hand was at my cheek, gently brushing his knuckles over my jaw. He moved in slowly, his eyes searching my features, our breathing becoming heavy, and strong. His lips touched mine like a feather, gently parting, and then as if he could no longer contain the passion within, he crushed his lips to mine, deepening the kiss. Mid kiss he pulled away, then turned away, raking his fingers through his hair. “Whew,” he let out a breath and a chuckle. He turned back, flashing his amazing dimpled smile at me. “So, slow is going to be just a bit of a challenge.”

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Dear Diary,

  So, Ryan Mathers is a pretty decent kisser. And he likes me. Actually, he said he’s liked me since the first day we met, which would have been orientation, and that he likes me more every day.

  I’m not sure how to feel about all of it. I had no idea he felt anything about me, and I’ve never really thought much about him in that way other than thinking he was cute. Blue eyes, dimples, nice smile, great build — what’s not to like about that? But looks aren’t everything, and I don’t really know him very well, and he does’t really know me so I’m really not sure what he’s seeing in me and I’m just kind of… Confused, with a capital C. And that’s half a grade better than the ridiculous C-minus I’m getting in Calculus so it could be worse, right?

  Up is that-a-way, yeah?

  Falling sideways,

  -Kat

  Chapter 14

  Parkwood’s Halloween party wasn’t nearly as Epic as Canyon Crest’s Haunted Halloween extravaganza, where the entire school was transformed into a Spook Alley, but the gym looked nice decorated with streamers and balloons and blow-up halloween regulars. I think the vampire someone had prettied up or possibly vandalized with some glitter paint was my favorite.

  I had my Clark Kent costume all picked out: gray suit, red tie and a white shirt with a Superman T clearly visible underneath, and black horn-rimmed glasses to complete the whole charade. But then Kayley surprised us with newly dyed ginger colored hair and Powerpuff Girls costumes. She couldn’t persuade Kimber to dye her hair blond, especially since wigs are a thing, and going as a trio of superheroes was an easy sell — especially since my costume was basically a green dress, and I like things easy.

  The football team took state. Again. I’d gone to most of the away games, mostly at Adria’s pleading insistence. But I hadn’t planned on going to the championship game that was being played at University Stadium until she cornered me with huge puppy dog eyes and a serious frown lamenting how “Nobody ever comes just for the cheerleaders.”

  Truth is, I wouldn’t just be going for the cheerleaders, I’d be cheering on Ryan and Dominic too, but whatever. I went, and so did Kimber, Kayley, Ambree and Mika. We made signs just for the cheer squad and cheered wildly for them, but mostly Adria.

  Fall settled in, the air turned chilly, pumpkin spice everything was everywhere, and sweaters became a must. Christmas time travel plans to Ireland were made and Thanksgiving plans were forming. They’d been at Erik’s place for the past few years, but this year it would be at Tate & Josie’s, because they had the next biggest place.

  One Wednesday, mid November, with freshly kissed lips, the kind that feels all tingly and slightly swollen, which is kind of the best, I was caught by the thought of how completely weird it is to have regularly scheduled make out sessions with someone.

  Keep your panties on, pun intended, we did more than just make out. Ryan still helped me with my calculus, and I felt like I was getting better at it since my assignments were coming back with fewer red marks each time. And we also talked. It was sort of like getting to know each other, except Ryan never seemed to be into talking about himself beyond just himself.

  Like, this particular Wednesday afternoon, after we’d finished up with math and kissing in the kitchen. Ryan was showing me his room, and his view of trees, fence and the neighbors weird house that only had a single window on the side that faced his house. “Is it just you here?” I asked. “And I assume a parent or two?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Mostly. I have two brothers, but I basically never see them anymore.”

  “So, they’re older?”

  “One is.”

  I waited for him to say more. When he didn’t I said, “What’s the story there? If you don’t mind me asking?”

  “One brother lives with the other,” he shrugged, as if this should have been easy to deduce, and no other information was needed.

  “So, you do mind me asking?”

  “You want me to tell you about my family?
” he sounded doubtful.

  “Yeah, why not?”

  He shook his head like he couldn’t imagine anyone being interested in the topic. “Okay. My parents are Dave and LeAnna, but prefer my friends call them Mr. And Ms. Mathers, so if you ever meet them,” he shrugged. “But you probably won’t, because they’re not around much. I have an older brother, Alec, and a twin brother, Luke. He’s technically younger, and yes, we’re identical. He lives with our older brother in California, in part because we both play football, and he’s also a QB. Happy?”

  “Do you not like talking about your family?”

  He pushed a smile through tight lips. “There’s really just not that much to say.”

  So, I’d call that a yes.

  “You know,” he changed the subject. “I think you may be the only person who’s never made a big deal about the size of my house.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Not my first time in a big house. My step-dad, Erik’s house is big like this. We only have just the one kitchen table though,” I joked. He looked disappointed. I couldn’t tell if he felt sorry for me, if his feelings had been hurt, or if he was teasing back. “I assume your parents entertain?” I said.

  “Sometimes,” he shrugged and plopped himself down on his bed, he leaned back and smiled, like it was an invitation to hop onto his lap, and stop talking.

  I considered it, since I’d previously enjoyed making out while straddling this lap, but I was really hoping to establish a relationship beyond math and making out. I decided to sit next to him instead. “Erik likes to entertain. He used to do these big game nights once a month. They were always fun.”