Kit Kat & Katie Did
Page 30
In a way, it’s kind of, sort of, a little bit, like my relationship with Julian, except I’m only just getting to know Ryan, and I’m pretty sure I know just about everything there is to know about Julian. It’s weird to make the comparison, but I could imagine that this is how Julian and I would be if we’d only just met.
I’m sure my eyes were wide as saucers when I saw the bill, but I tried to keep my shock at quiet as possible. The total was just over $1600, Ryan asked for $1000 in change and left a $500 tip. There’s no rational thoughts to be found when thinking about a dinner for two costing $2600, let alone the person actually paying for it being okay with it. I could only imagine my own mom’s response. She probably would’ve gone catatonic and then died, her last words being something about the horrific shame of such extreme financial irresponsibility. And she’d be right.
After, Ryan drove us to his house. The lights were on, which was unusual. Ryan grumbled something under his breath I couldn’t make out. “Looks like my parents are home if you want to come and meet them.” Ryan sounded unsure.
“Do I?”
He looked at me for a long minute. “Nah, probably not. Thanks for today, for everything.”
“Are you sure your parents aren’t going to be pissed you spent $2600 on dinner?”
Ryan gave his head half a shake. “Nope. They’ll probably be pissed for what I’m about to do though. Goodbye hug?” Ryan hopped out of the car and held the door open.
I got out and circled around the front of the car. When I reached for Ryan he flinched and stepped back, away from me. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He wrapped his hands on my upper arms, holding them at my sides. “Thanks for today,” he frowned. “I’ll see you at school. Get home safe.” And then he let me go and hurried into the house.
The interaction was weird, but the sick feeling in my gut came from knowing it was an act. I climbed in the car and sent my mom a text.
KF: Mom, I just wanted to tell you, I think you’re the best mom ever. Thanks for always encouraging Julian and me to be ourselves, and loving us for it. I love you. And tell Erik I love him too.
Chapter 25
“Kat!” The voice yelling my name across the parking lot was familiar, but no one at school called me Kat — except maybe Kimber or Kaley on rare occasion but even that was never shouting it out to the world, and this voice was way too deep to have been either of them. It was Ryan. He was grinning ear to ear and waving at me with both hands. Half a second after the initial shock of being called Kat in a place everybody called me Katie, I went into something that felt like panic at being outed and I found myself doing a quick scan of the parking lot for a familiar red truck, or a tall, broad shouldered, blond. I saw neither.
“Dude.” I threw my arms wide. “Nobody calls me that at school.”
“I yelled Katie like 10 times, what was I supposed to do?”
“Ten times?” I raised my brows at him.
“Okay, it was twice, and the first time I called you Kate, but still, what are you doing, you got plans, can you cancel them?” He asked in one big long run on sentence.
It was a Friday, but not the next day, the week after, the 26th. Coincidentally, it was exactly three weeks before my birthday. I gave some serious consideration to my weekend plans: I’d probably end up at Julian’s at some point but the only thing I really had planned was, “I’ve got homework,” I answered reluctantly.
“Cool, so it can wait. Where’s your car? You’re driving.”
I pointed in the general direction of my car.
“Have you ever noticed how your car looks like every other car,” he asked.
I looked at my little sedan, parked in a small sea of other sedans. “Not really?”
Ryan laughed and started toward my car.
“You’re in a good mood today,” I noted, falling into step along side him.
We hadn’t really had much time to talk since our evening out, he’d kind of been keeping his distance, and so had Dominic — and not just at school.
“I went with your idea. It took a bit of convincing but eventually my parents agreed to therapy. With a lovely woman called Mable Pinkerton, who is a life coach and relationship expert with just the most amazing reviews,” his voice pitched and he batted his eyes. “She’s 600 buck a session and I ‘see her’” he used air quotes, “three times a week after school. I’ve made $1800 this week, so, yeah, I’m kind of happy about that.”
“That’s seriously fucked up, Ryan. Please don’t credit me for this. It just makes me feel like the absolute criminal I am for even suggesting it.”
“Valentines day,” He pointed at me. “You and me are going out, that’s when it’s officially going to be official between us. And I’m going to throw a party that Friday, at my place. You can meet my parents and stop feeling so guilty.”
“I can’t that Friday. It’s my birthday. Julian will have plans.”
Ryan stopped and leaned against the car we were walking between. “Julian—” his voice caught and he cleared his throat. “Mr. Ridiculously Overprotective,” he corrected.
“Oh, it’s mister now?”
“Yep. He’s… is he…”
I waited, Ryan looked like the words might hurt to say. “It’s okay,” I put my hand out to reassure but before I set it on him I pulled back making a scooping motion instead. “You can say it.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed as he watched my awkward hand gesture. “Are you and he?” he paused. “A thing?”
“Jules and I are lots of things, Ryan.”
“Isn’t he… I mean… Is he like me, though?”
I was pretty sure I knew were he was trying to go, but it felt icky that he couldn’t say the word, so I gave him a few options. “Strong? Yes. Handsome? Also yes.”
Ryan looked around us, as if he were worried someone might hear him then he reached for the door of the car he was leaning against, pulled it open and climbed in.
“Ryan, that’s not my car, it’s not even the same color.”
Ryan climbed out of the car and shrugged.
“Just say the word, Ryan. You know it’s okay to say it, right?”
Ryan looked super flustered, his jaw was tight and his cheeks were reddening, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Gay,” Ryan said on a whisper. “Is he gay?”
“It’s beautiful when you say it, Ryan. It’ll be even more beautiful when you own it.”
Ryan looked like he was going to explode from trying to hold in a flood of angry tears. He poked his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, as if to push the emotion back down. “Which one is your car?” he groaned, probably from the pain of poking himself in the eyes.
“It’s the one with the unicorn head on the antenna.”
Ryan’s head darted around. “Okay. Not helpful.”
“Come on,” I walked him to my car on the next row and he climbed in.
“Are you going to answer my question?” he blurted as soon as my butt hit the seat.
I leaned toward him. “Very,” I said. “Julian is very gay,” I clarified. “Can I ask why you’re asking?”
Ryan took a deep breath and let it out again. “Yes. But can I ask you something first?”
“Yes.”
“How come you won’t touch me?” Ryan shifted toward me in his seat. “And don’t say it’s not happening, you’re going out of your way to not touch me and I want to know why.”
I twisted toward him in my seat. “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Because of Alexa,” he frowned and I nodded. He leaned his head against the seat and sighed, looking relieved. “Okay,” he reached across the center console and took my hands in his. “Can you stop? This is probably going to sound totally messed up but how she was with me, I expected it from her, it was just a part of our relationship. I don’t want that with you. I want what you and Julian have. That’s why I was asking. Because if he’s gay, and you can be like that with him, then I was hoping maybe you could be like that with me too.”
 
; “What me and Jules have is real, Ryan. Nothing about our relationship is pretend. The way you saw him with me, the way we are together, that’s not pretense.”
“I know. That’s what I want. I want to hang out with you, and make peanut butter sandwiches after school, and go to overpriced restaurants, and hug you and kiss you and take naps with you curled against my chest, and not have there be any expectations of any of it being more than just what our friendship is.”
“So we’re not going to label it?” I asked, hopeful.
“Can we do that?”
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
Ryan leaned forward and kissed me, just a soft peck. “We’re gonna sound like such douche bags,” he smiled against my lips then kissed me again. “But I’m still telling people we’ve agreed not to see other people, and that I’m exclusively with you, just cause, you know, you’ve seen how some of the girls around here can be.”
“Okay,” I conceded, “But we’re not doing that forever.”
“Hopefully just through high school. Can I drive?” Ryan asked as if he’d suddenly just realized he was in the passenger seat.
“Yeah,” we jumped out and switched seats. “I’m surprised you don’t have a replacement car yet.”
“I’m not sure what I want yet. And besides, as soon as my parents find out about me it’s gone. Luke’s car is still sitting in the garage. I think they like to keep it around as a reminder of what happened, of what could happen, of what I’ll lose if…” his voice trailed and he shrugged. “Anyway, I figure maybe I should just get used to bumming rides.”
“Or maybe you could just plan to buy a cheap car, with all your stashed away funds.”
He turned to me eyes wide. “I just had a great idea. I’ll just buy two cars. Make sure one is entirely in my name and just keep it parked someplace. You’re brilliant.”
“Uh — that wasn’t my idea.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still brilliant. You inspire me.”
“Okay, Criminal, you can stop now. Where are we going, anyway?” I asked.
“To a surprise birthday party.”
“Oh? Whose?”
“Dominic’s.”
I tried to remember if I knew that info somehow, if we’d ever discussed it. I remembered him telling me his birthday was soon, but I hadn’t asked when. Suddenly I felt like a very bad friend.
“I think he thinks no one remembers,” Ryan went on, “but Coach always does and I saw Coach wishing him a Happy Birthday this morning. I thought about making it a lunch thing, but I wanted you there, so I waited.”
We were in a neighborhood, driving toward Dominic’s house when I realized. “Shouldn’t we get balloons or a cake or something?”
“Hell yeah we should.” Ryan took a left at the next stop, redirecting us toward a nearby grocery store. We got a football shaped cake and football shaped mylar balloons. It was almost the end of professional football season, so these were super easy to obtain.
When we got to Dominic’s Ryan started for the front door. “It’s this way,” I motioned around the side of the house.
“I’ve only ever been here just the once,” Ryan admitted.
“Me too.” I dialed in the combination to the gate and opened it. It was still light out, barnyard animals littered the back yard. Chickens mostly but a fairly large cow sauntered over to great us as we entered.
“Holy fuck, I had no idea cows were that big.” Ryan pressed his back against the fence. “Did you know cows were that big?”
“You’ve never been to a petting zoo?” I asked, trying not to be intimidated by the very large animal ambling toward us.
“I’ve never been to any kind of zoo. I don’t have that sort of parents.”
“Not even for a field trip?”
“Uhm, yeah, I think that happened once but I was out sick.”
“It’s gonna be fine,” I tried to sound like I knew what I was talking about. “Domesticated cows are kind of like big domesticated dogs.”
“Never had a dog either.”
I put my hand out for the cow. She sniffed it, but seemed more interested in the cake and the balloons. “Hey, girl,” I scratched her chin, glad I was wearing gloves as her tongue came out. “We’re just here to see Dominic.”
“Hundred percent sure, she doesn’t understand you,” Ryan said, wincing, as the cow investigated him with her nose. Ryan put his hands up as if she were holding a weapon on him. I laughed.
“Live a little, Ryan,” I reached out and pet the cow on her neck. “It’s not like she’s going to bite you, she’s an herbivore.”
Ryan reached out his hand and gave the cow a pat, and then gave her a bit of a scratch. “I’m so going to need a shower after this.”
A sharp whistle broke the air. The cow lifted her head and turned toward the sound and we heard Dominic yell, “Who’d you find, Baby?”
Baby must have been the cow because she immediately turned and trotted off in the direction of the barn where Dominic was. He was carrying a bale of hay and sort of stopped for a moment and stared at us looking confused — as if it wasn’t his birthday, or like he wasn’t sure if he was seeing what he was actually seeing. And then he continued, putting the hay bale in a big feeding trough and cutting it free from its bindings.
Dominic looked like he was trying to decide how to react. Ryan and I just stood there by the fence, like dorks. I managed a weak, “Hi,” and a wave.
“Happy Birthday,” Ryan added, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Who the hell is this?” an old voice barked from the back porch.
This had to be Dominic’s grandpa. He looked really old, like old old, but not frail by any means. He had stringy white hair that looked like it was in serious need of washing, except it didn’t move so maybe it was greased on purpose? Gross. His shoulders were sloped, and his back was hunched but he was nonetheless burly and gruff looking.
Dominic shook his head. “It’s just some friends from school, Gramps,” he hollered loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.
“What!?” the old man griped.
“Friends from school,” Dominic repeated.
“I’m not deaf,” the old man shouted. “You don’t have friends,” he sneered.
“Is it those damned religious goobers?” Came another voice, higher pitched, but just as harsh. This had to be his grandma. She came into view a second later with a frying pan in her hand. He hair was icy white, short and moppy. Her stature was tiny, especially standing next to her big burly husband, but her presence was just as fierce. “We don’t want any of what you’re selling,” she hollered at us, shaking the frying pan for emphasis.
Dominic shook his head. “Can you guys just wait for me inside?”
Ryan had the gate by the stairs open and waiting for me in the time it took me to turn in that direction.
“Who are those people?” Dominic’s grandmother yelled. “And who let them in my yard?”
“Do I need to call the cops?” his grandpa added.
“No! Nobody needs to call the cops, they’re my friends. I let them in,” Dominic said as he crossed the yard to the house.
“Aww, he’s lying for us,” Ryan said as he opened the door into Dominic’s basement apartment space. Ryan shut the door behind us, but it didn’t cut the sound, we could still hear everything that was going on outside, and just above us. We just stood there next to each other in the dark room, listening, waiting.
“Why are they here?” His grandma snapped. “What do they want?”
“They came by to wish me a Happy Birthday,” Dominic explained.
“What?” His grandmother sounded surprised.
“Why the hell would they do that?” His grandpa chuckled.
“Because it’s my birthday,” Dominic said, his tone flat.
“I know what day it is, Dumbass.” His grandpa grumbled. “Finish your damned chores.”
“I wasn’t expecting visitors,” his grandmother’s tone scolded.
/> “I know, Grams, they won’t be staying long.”
“I think we should act like we didn’t just hear all of that,” Ryan suggested. “Or that we thought it was quaint or something.”
“Just old people quirkiness,” I agreed.
Dominic flipped on the light when he entered.
“Surprise!” Ryan and I mock-hollered, so as not to disturb the grouchy old people upstairs.
Dominic chuckled, thankfully looking amused. “What the fuck is this?”
“It’s your birthday, and we’re taking you out,” Ryan’s dimples showed. “Oh, and we brought you a cake.” Ryan took the cake from me and set it on the counter then he took the balloons and pushed them over by the couch.
Dominic scowled at me the whole time as if this had all been my idea and he was trying to figure out how I’d figured it out and what sort of revenge he could take.
“Okay,” Ryan rubbed his hands together. “What can we do to help you finish up whatever it is you need to do so we can get the hell out of here?”
“I’m finished.” Dominic said.
“Sweet.” Ryan made a b-line for the sink and started washing his hands. “I’ve never touched a cow before,” he explained. “You wanna shower before we go? Or…”
Dominic was still scowling at me. “I’ll be back in ten.”
Dominic spent a minute rifling around in his room and then he disappeared into the bathroom. Ryan and I continued to awkwardly stand in the middle of the room occasionally Ryan would say something and I’d respond.
“It’s cold in here, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I pointed to the ceiling, ‘nuff said.
“At least he’s not mad at us. You don’t think he’s mad at us do you?”
“I hope not.”
“You want to make out or something, just to pass the time?”
I twisted my head toward him. “Is that like a boredom response, or nerves, or are you just that perpetually horny?”