Dominic’s grandpa be crazy, yo.
He told us how upset his grandparents had become when it all came back on them. First off, Dominic wasn’t obligated to do anything for them if he wasn’t living there, also, the state wouldn’t continue to send them money if he wasn’t living there, and that 21, for a student, was their age cut-off, not 18. At this, his grams lost her last marble and threw a fit. Complete nonsense but her main points were that none of this had been her idea, that Dominic would be staying there until both of them were dead — and that everybody — and especially the state — needed to accept that. Then there was the false police report. Officer Streminski said he’d drop it, but only if he never heard another uncalled for complaint ever again. And he still had to impress upon Gramps the real possibility of heavy fines and jail time before he agreed.
Dude be as stubborn as he is ornery.
And the yelling? That was Mr. Manning, reminding the Principal, Vice Principal, and School Counselor that their first obligation is to the students.
At the end of it all, Ryan said, “Dude, you could have called me.”
“I didn’t want to drag anybody else into my problems,” he shrugged.
“Fuck that shit,” Ryan barked, angry. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” Dominic defended.
“Dude, you know pretty much everything there is to know about me. You don’t tell me anything about you, about what’s going on with you. You’re not my friend, you’re my therapist.”
Dominic looked to me, like I might defend him, but I had the unique perspective of knowing more about Dominic than most. And I agreed with Ryan.
“Fine,” Dominic leaned back in his seat. “You want to know my shit, I’ll tell you.” He leaned forward, with his elbows on the table. “Where do I start? My dad committed suicide, my mom became a drug addicted klepto — sorry, she became an even bigger drug addicted klepto — who’s completely batshit crazy. My sister likes to pretend I don’t exist, and I live with my insane grandparents rather than foster care just so I can play with the Panther’s. And I’m required to go to court ordered therapy once a week because my whole situation is so fucked up. Let’s see, anything else? Oh yeah. I’m in love with a girl I texted on accident. You knew some of that,” he put his hand out. “What you don’t know, is that she says she loves me too but thinks that when — or if — we ever meet, I will suddenly stop liking her which is crazy, because the truth is, even though she knows a lot of this stuff, as soon as she realizes what an absolute disaster I am, she’s gonna leave me too. Happy?”
Ryan looked at me then to Dominic. “Kind of; because now I know I’m not the only one whose life is totally fucked up. And, two things,” Ryan held up a finger. “First,” he looked at me. “ I don’t think she’s going anywhere. And two,” he held up a finger on his other hand. “I know why we’re all such good friends,” he pointed at us.
Dominic shook his head. “Why’s that?”
“We’re all liars,” Ryan put his hands out.
Dominic considered, his finger grazing across his chin. “Okay,” he accepted the assessment. And then suddenly his gaze was on me. “Your turn,” he motioned toward me with his palm up. “Confess,” he said with wide eyes.
“Uhm,” I stammered.
“Nah,” Ryan waved his hand in front of me, dismissing or saving, most likely both. “She doesn’t have the kind of shit you and I have. You saw her place, all cozy and friendly, smelled like foods, and flowery stuff. Smarty-Pant’s biggest problem is that she has no idea how to act her age. Everybody, herself included, would say she acts like she’s a 30-year-old, trapped in a 16-year-old’s body.”
“I don’t treat her like that,” Dominic interjected.
“Your loss,” Ryan shrugged. “And it’s not like she can help who she is, she doesn’t even realize she’s different. It’s just what she knows. You and I, we had some shit, but at some point we got to actually be kids. Not this one. Her childhood was the same as her life now, ordered, scheduled, and planned out in advance. Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Thirty?”
Ryan laughed. “That’s the part you want to have a go at? Okay, 25. Better?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. Because he wasn’t really wrong about anything else. “The other issue though—”
“Here we go,” Ryan grinned.
“—Is that, none of that is actually a problem; I like having my autonomy. I like that I’m graduating early. I like that I know where my life is headed.”
“When are you graduating?” Dominic asked.
“This year—”
“She’s already got the credits,” Ryan spilled. “She’s just sticking around to be my prom date,” he winked at me.
“For reals?” Dominic lifted his brows at me.
“No. They won’t let me walk if I graduate before spring. I’m trying to have like the whole high school experience here.”
“Oh man… That’s so messed up,” Dominic said. At first, I thought he was agreeing with me, but I quickly realized, he was talking to Ryan. “Geez, kiddo,” he turned to me. “I had no idea you had it so bad.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “How is that bad?”
“Most people don’t try to have a high school experience,” He stuck his fork in his cake. “They just experience high school.”
“How are those different?”
“Better question,” he popped a bite of cake into his mouth. “How does any of that make her a liar?”
Ryan went for a piece of fruit from my plate, a pineapple chunk. “Just like us, it’s not who she really is. It’s all cover story. It’s why she’s the perfect girl for me, in her mind our relationship is a show, but it’s not fake. The lie that isn’t a lie, that is a lie.”
“Is that true?” Dominic looked to me
“Is what true? Ryan’s nonsensical lie that isn’t a lie theory? I don’t even know what he’s talking about.”
“He’s saying you’re not faking your relationship with him,” Dominic pitched in.
“I’m not,” I defended, even more confused.
“But it’s fake,” Dominic pressed.
“Kind of? It’s… more for show.”
“Like I said, she doesn’t see it, it’s just what she knows.”
“I can see, and know, you guys are being jerks.”
“I’m sorry,” Ryan pouted. “I’m not trying to be a mean. Trying to fake therapy has made me start to psychoanalyze everything and everyone. I like you just the way you are, Kiddo. I lie to the world, and today I found out, so does Dominic. You do too, but it’s different because you take your lies and make them not lies, which is both fascinating and admirable. I think. As long as you’re happy.”
I opened my mouth to deny his conclusion, but realized it was pointless, it would just look like another lie I was telling myself. “Whatever,” I rolled my eyes at him.
“Yep, now she’s mad,” Dominic concluded. “You want some cake?” he scraped off the frosting and loaded a chunk of cake onto his fork and held it out for me, like a peace offering. “It’s really good, Tabitha makes them fresh, and from scratch, every day.”
“You’re on a first name basis with the person that makes the cake here?”
“It’s really good cake,” he justified.
“Fine.” I took the fork from him and stuffed the cakey goodness into my mouth.
It was good. It was really good.
Chapter 28
Valentine’s Day is such a bizarre holiday. People eating chalk because it’s heart-shaped and stamped with cutesy words. That’s weird. The day was sort of fun in elementary school when we decorated shoe boxes with colored paper and gave each other cards with cute little sayings and puns. But the high school version of Valentine’s Day is more like an aggressive public awareness campaign about the hazards of love. It’s basically a week of infatuations, expectations, disappointments and chocolate. And every now and again there’s jewe
lry. It’s super lame, and kind of gross.
Kimber was particularly excited because this year, she had a boyfriend. Yup, her and Zach were officially, official. And since I kind of, sort of, kind of was too, we decided to make a thing of it and go out on a double date. Kimber’s idea. This tiny action alone caused a huge ruffle among her friends — particularly with Jayla who had already taken to scowling at me every time we saw each other. But that whole debacle was a mess to clean up another day.
Ryan of course loved the idea of a double date. His eyes lit up and I swear I could see dollar signs glinting in them. “That is an excellent idea Kims,” he beamed.
Kimber blushed.
Later, when she was gushing to Kayley about it, I asked her what the red cheeks were all about, she blushed again and said, “He called me Kims, Kat. I mean, like it’s cool that he knows my name and whatever, but he knows my nickname too, like he knows me,” she grinned.
Kayley grinned so hard she squealed.
“He does know you, Kims. You’ve been going to the same school for years.”
Kimber rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it, Kat,” she frowned. “It’s okay,” she patted my knee. “You never have, you never will. You live a life that most people don’t and it makes you see the world differently. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing,” Kimber assured. “Because I love you and you’re awesome, it’s just that, you have a tendency to see awesome as ordinary.”
I nodded. She was right. I didn’t get it.
And then Kayley had the “most awesomest idea ever!” (her words). She thought we should make it a triple date and that Dominic and her should be the third couple.
I told her he’d never go for it, because he wouldn’t, and she got super offended and went on a lengthy rant about how I was being unfair to her, and mean, and jealous. So I told her she should ask him and see what he said. So she did, during lunch the next day.
Dominic and Ryan were sitting at their usual table. On it, actually, which is what they do, cavorting with the other jocks. I had an abnormally large amount of homework I was hoping to get through, but Kayley had insisted I come with her.
Kayley batted her lashes and flipped her still ginger from halloween hair, now with a good three inches of dark roots. I wish my hair grew that fast. She was in full flirt mode as she presented her plan to make it a triple date. And Dominic laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed. And then he looked at me and asked if I was pranking him.
Right before Kayley became mad enough to hit one of us — and she was ready: lips pursed, eyes narrowed, hands balled up in into little fists at her sides — he apologized and told her that he had a girlfriend. And I sent out a prayer hoping she wouldn’t ask him to prove it.
It was worse than that. She asked, “Who?”
And my heart stopped. All the blood in my body began to pool at my feet and I started seeing spots.
“You wouldn’t know her,” Dominic shrugged.
Ryan pulled me close to him and leaned into the conversation. “She lives in Canada.”
Dominic threw him some serious side eye.
Girlfriend in Canada was plenty good enough for Kayley and she recovered quickly from the rejection by turning around and announcing an impromptu Valentine’s Day party at her house. “For singles only. No losers. Bring your own chocolate.”
I had no doubts that her party would be a raging success, it’s a Kayley thing.
After Kayley left, Ryan extended his own invite to Dominic. “You know you’re always welcome with us.”
“Thanks man, but I’ve actually got a thing I’m doing. I uh…” he started fidgeting, rubbing his palm over his bouncing knee. “I owe somebody a favor.”
I took hold of his hand and turned it over, scratching my fingers over his palm.
He stopped fidgeting and just stared at me. “Uhm. What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I presented his hand back to him as proof. “What are you doing?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. I returned the expression.
“You have some weird habits,” he smiled at me. “Are we going out today?”
He killed me. I was dead. Dominic had never been the one to ask me out. It had always been Ryan, and now he was laying this on me with full eye contact, while I was holding this hand — and I was still expected to breathe and stuff! That’s not realistic. Somehow I managed to eek out the words, “Can’t. Homework.” And then I bolted. It was a slow bolt, because running is seriously frowned on outside of gym class, but I was moving pretty quick. Right up until Jayla called me a slut as I passed her and Claire near the door.
I came to an instant halt.
Claire gasped, “She didn’t mean it.”
“Can we meet later? Talk?” I asked.
Jayla narrowed her eyes at me. “Why?”
“Please?”
“Fine,” she relented.
“Saturday?”
She scrunched her nose up at me. “Fine,” she grumbled.
・❀・❀・❀・
I wasn’t nervous to meet Ryan’s parents, but I was thinking a lot about first impressions. I hoped they’d like me, but with the discriminations they were carrying around I couldn’t imagine that being possible if they actually got to know me. I didn’t want to make our relationship a point of contention between Ryan and his parents, but ultimately I didn’t really care what they thought about me or my relationship with Ryan.
Ryan met me at his front door with a huge heart shaped box full of different kinds of nut butters. “I got you all my favorites.”
“Aww,” I cooed at the box. “This is literally the best Valentines gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“Seriously?” he looked doubtful.
“Valentine’s Day is sort of an optional holiday among my people and mostly consists of saying, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ So, this is amazing.” I wrapped him in a hug.
He managed the box onto a side table near the door and returned the hug. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it,” I smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I managed a 500% mark-up over actual cost, on this gift.”
“Now you’ve tainted it.” I frowned up at him.
“Don’t worry, I have a remedy for that.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep. Come meet my parents.”
Ryan’s parents were in a sitting room area not too far from the kitchen. Ryan’s mom was standing near the window, talking on the phone. She was slender, and fit, with perfect posture and not a single line on her face. Her eyebrows were light brown, like Ryan’s hair, but what sat on her head was perfectly pale blond, perfectly straight, and cut perfectly blunt just above her shoulders. “I need it here by six, so get it here by six,” she spoke into the phone, her tone matter-of-fact. “And you should know, I tip extremely well for excellent service, and not at all if it’s anything less than what I expect.”
Okay, so first impressions of Mrs. Mathers: she liked people to meet her every demand no matter how unreasonable.
Nope, she wasn’t going to like me; ass-kissing just isn’t my thing.
Ryan’s dad was sitting in an armchair, sipping a mug of something. His hair was light brown, but not like Ryan’s. It was more of an ashy brown sprinkled with gray and thin on top. He had the same blue eyes as Ryan though. His face was also rather lacking in age lines, not so much that he didn’t look like a guy in his 50s, it was more in the way that it was unexpected when he lifted his eyebrows in our direction.
First impression of Mr. Mathers: He let his wife do most of the talking.
Ryan waited patiently for both of his parents to turn their attention toward us before making introductions. I followed his lead and did the same.
“Get it done,” Mrs. Mathers clicked her phone off, set in on the side table next to Mr. Mathers and set an elbow on the back of his armchair. Could have snapped a photo and stuck it on the cover of Modern Power Couple M
agazine.
“Mom, Dad, this is Katie Franks. Katie, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mathers.”
It felt weirdly formal. I wasn’t sure if there was some sort of protocol for who should speak first in this kind of situations, but they weren’t saying anything so I smiled and said, “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“I’m sure it is,” Mrs. Mathers snipped, giving me a thorough up and down with her eyes, before casting her gaze on Ryan with her disappointed results.
So we were definitely not starting off friendly.
Mr. Mathers sipped his drink, looking every bit the part of being alone in the room, or maybe it was lost inside his own little world.
“Ryan, I’m confused.” Mrs. Mathers spoke again. “I thought you were going out.”
“Dinner and a show,” Ryan confirmed.
“In that.” Mrs. Mathers motioned toward us with her palm out.
I wasn’t sure who she was gesturing to. Ryan was wearing jeans, boots, a button up, and a jacket. I was wearing leggings, boots, and a sequined shirt, that was mostly hidden under a sweater and a jacket and a scarf.
She sighed toward her husband. “I can’t be the only one who thinks that looks like a laundry pile.”
Mr. Mathers had no reaction. None. It was so none he could have been a holographic projection, if those were real.
I turned and whispered to Ryan. “She’s talking about my outfit, isn’t she?”
“She is,” he answered with a smile that said, ’see, they’re awful.’
“Tell us about yourself, Katie,” Mrs. Mathers ground out the name like she was spitting out bad food. Not that I’m particularly fond of it myself, but what could she possibly have against the cutesy little girl’s name?
Before I could even open my mouth to say anything Mr. Mathers spoke, “Is that short for Katherine?” His eyes hadn’t moved from his mug — in no way proving he wasn’t a ghost or a hologram.
Kit Kat & Katie Did Page 34
