Kit Kat & Katie Did

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Kit Kat & Katie Did Page 37

by Lauren T. Hart


  “You should go, Kat,” Ryan said, his tone firm. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

  I pulled my eyes away from swollen and battered and landed on cool, cold, dead inside, blue eyes. What was happening here wasn’t new to him, I realized. And as horrifying as that thought was, I figured that also meant he’d be the one who best knew how to navigate this cluster of awful. I don’t remember if I responded or just stood there in shocked silence. After a very long few seconds Ryan pulled me against him and walked me out the door, and straight to my car. “Ryan?” I stared up at him hoping he had some way of helping me make sense of all the things I didn’t understand — didn’t really want to understand.

  He took my face in his hands, and brushed his thumbs over my cheeks. “It’s late. You get home safe, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And then I was in the car.

  I started my car — it screeched at me, because it was already running. I put it in reverse and backed up. I didn’t even look, but miraculously stopped just before I plowed into a very large brick mailbox at the end of the driveway. I slipped it into drive and went forward. Forward. Forward. Oops, that was a stop sign. Good thing there weren’t many cars out. Forward again. Stop. Turn left here. Forward some more. Turn left again. Forward. Forward. Forward.

  Where in the hell was I? Where was I going? I could barely think. I probably should have pulled over. But I didn’t want to have a complete meltdown in some random neighborhood somewhere. I needed to be somewhere that felt safe.

  I drove to the only place I could think of that could help me feel less awful about the horrors I’d become part of. Everything between that moment and arriving at his door felt like an absolute obstacle course.

  It was after midnight now and he was probably asleep. I didn’t care. I resigned myself to spending the night standing in the cold, knocking on his door until I passed out, or froze to death, or morning came and I needed to go to school, or until he opened the door. I softly knocked on his door and then I knocked some more.

  A few minutes later, Dominic opened the door. And it was like looking at victory. He was wearing his pajamas — a long sleeved shirt and fleece bottoms, a coat, and boots.

  “Oh, what?” he sounded surprised as he took me in. “I thought you were a chicken,” he huffed. “What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

  I opened my mouth to ask if I could come in and burst into tears. Ugly, angry, tears.

  At least it was dark.

  Dominic ushered me inside. I curled against him, pathetically sobbing. He steered me to his couch and sat me down. Then he disappeared for a few seconds and returned with a warm blanket that he wrapped around my shoulders and a roll of toilet paper. I immediately used some to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. So much snot with the angry tears. And for why? Does hopelessness, directionless rage, and pathetic desperation really need that level of lubricant?

  Dominic ditched his coat and boots, sat down next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “You’re okay now, Kiddo. I’ve got you.”

  I felt so far beyond awful that I didn’t even care that he’d called me kiddo. I latched on to the words ‘I’ve got you’ and held on for all they were worth.

  When my tears finally began to dry up and my sobs turned into the occasional suck-up, Dominic got up and made a pot of coffee.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

  I nodded. Not because I wanted to talk about it, or relive it, but I needed to get it out.

  Dominic handed me a warm mug of coffee with a chunk of vanilla ice cream floating on top. “Ice cream?” I poked at the soft white chunk floating in a pool of black.

  “It’ll be just like those vanilla lattes you like,” he said as he sat back down on the couch with his own vanilla ice cream coffee.

  “How do you know I like vanilla lattes?” I sniffed.

  “You’re not one of those people who doesn’t realize how much coffee they drink are you? They print your order on the side of the cup.”

  “You noticed that?”

  “I notice lots of things.”

  I might have burst out laughing if I didn’t still feel like crying.

  “So talk to me, Kiddo. Tell me what happened?”

  “Ryan’s parents were uh… being snobs. They called me a gold-digger. So uh…” I shook my head and took a breath to steady my nerves. “So, I went beast mode and told them about my wealthy step-dad,” I cringed, because telling Dominic all this was barely even a half step away from doing the exact same thing all over again.

  “Okay,” he sounded like he was still waiting for the punchline. “And?”

  “And that’s not the worst of it. I thought it was, because playing the ‘rich parents’ card literally makes me nauseous, but I was stooping to their ‘money matters most’ level and I was being evil so that’s what I did.”

  Dominic nodded. “Yeah. So what was the worst of it?”

  I took a long sip of coffee and a slow, shaky breath. “When I dropped Ryan off… his mom…” I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. I set the coffee on the floor, ran to the bathroom and threw up.

  Chapter 30

  Valentine’s Day dinner properly hurled, I flushed the toilet and sat back on the cold tile floor. Dominic handed me a towel and a glass of water. I took a mouthful to rinse and spat it in the toilet.

  “You want to brush your teeth?” Dominic asked.

  I nodded. He pulled me to my feet, handed me a toothbrush, and held my hand steady because I was shaking like crazy, while he loaded it up with toothpaste. I brushed and brushed and brushed and rinsed. Dominic stood close providing a sturdy base and a steady hand as I shifted my weight from one unsteady foot to the other. And then I washed my face, because I looked like the poster for a B grade teenage disaster movie.

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I need to pee,” I said, and then I did just that.

  “Oh! Uhm— Okay…” Dominic averted his eyes as I pulled my pants and undies to my knees and took to the toilet in as designed fashion.

  “Sorry,” I cringed as I realized. “I’m not really a shy pee-er.”

  “It’s all good,” Dominic shook his head, eyes on the door.

  I watched him for signs of fidgeting. Amazingly, he wasn’t.

  I finished, flushed, and was washing my hands when he turned back around with his phone in his hand.

  “Ryan sort of filled me in,” he held his phone up, then put it down next to the sink and handed me a towel for my hands. “Listen to me,” he leaned forward, pinning me between his arms with his hands on the counter, his head close to mine. Our eyes met in the mirror. “Ryan’s family is fucked up. And that’s not on you, no matter what you said. Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “Good,” Dominic wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me close against him. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I leaned my head back on his chest and tried to just breathe without thinking. Everything felt better in his arms. He was comfort, and safety, and understanding, and all the things that felt like home. Totally one of the worst things I could be thinking about at this moment.

  “Come on, Kiddo,” Dominic whispered, directing me out of the bathroom. “This is the coldest room,” he mumbled.

  We went back to the couch. He sat next to me, closer than he was probably comfortable with, and we sipped our warm vanilla ice cream coffees. The room was dark, and cold, and quiet except for the far off sound of a TV show with a crappy laugh-track playing upstairs.

  “I can give you a ride home, if you want,” Dominic offered.

  “Thanks. I think I can drive,” I croaked out the words. Half a second later it hit me — it was late, he’d been sleeping, he wanted me to leave now. I stood. “Thanks for everything,” I pushed a bullshit smile into the dark and hurried across the room to put my mug in the sink and go.

  Dominic caught me by the arm just before I got to the door and p
ulled me close, his hands on my arms. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s late.”

  “It’s not fine,” Dominic grumbled as he pulled me into a hug. “You’re not fine, Kiddo.” He pulled back enough to get a look at me and added, “And I don’t mind.” He almost sounded surprised by this revelation.

  I wasn’t sure what to make of all of it. Thinking about things was overrated anyway.

  He lowered his head closer to mine and his eyes fell to my lips, like maybe he was going to kiss me. Again. I could feel my heart rate quicken and my body become warm and tingly all over at the delicious thought of his lips on mine. Then he shook his head, pulled away and said, “No, that’s…” his voice trailed into a sigh. But it was pretty obvious that the rest of the sentiment was something along the lines of ‘not what I want.’ He took a step back, enough that we weren’t touching anymore, but he was still close. “This is probably going to sound like a terrible idea, and maybe it is, but I think you should stay here.”

  I couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

  “Spend the night with me,” he repeated.

  There’s no way he just said that. No freaking way. “What?”

  “Not like that,” he grumbled. “Look,” he sighed. “I’ve gotta be up in three hours. You need a good solid three hour hug — and, actually, so do I after the day I had. There’s nothing salacious here, it’s just a mutually beneficial cuddle-nap. Between friends.”

  “Uhm…” I was dreaming. I had to be. Did Dominic Weedon just say, cuddle-nap? “O-Okay. What kind of day did you have?”

  Dominic cringed. “I agreed to be Annabelle’s date to some Valentine’s Day thing.”

  “Oh. Ew.” It just came out. “Sorry. That was rude.”

  “No, it was an understatement. Let’s not talk about it.” Dominic led me to his room, pulled back the covers on his bead and climbed in.

  I took off my boots and jacket and scarf. I kept the sweater because his place is really cold and the shirt underneath was covered in sequins, that probably wouldn’t feel good to sleep against. I climbed in and curled up next to him. He tossed the covers over us and snuggled close. There was no way — not a million years — I was going to be able to fall asleep lying in bed next to Dominic. No way. No how.

  I was asleep within minutes.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Dominic’s alarm went off just after 3am.

  I yawned and stretched and tried to remember why we were awake at such an inhuman hour. By the time I’d managed to pull myself upright, put my boots, jacket and scarf back on, Dominic was up, dressed, and handing me a fresh cup of coffee.

  “Why are we awake?” I asked trying my hardest not to sound too grumpy about it. “Is this a farm thing?”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was breathtaking. For reals, my breath caught. “I have to go to work,” he said through his grin.

  “Oh.” I nodded.

  I finished my cup of coffee, while Dominic finished three. Then he walked me to my car and I drove home for a couple more hours of sleep. As I curled into my own covers I realized the only thing I was feeling was tired, I attributed it to the miracle that is Dominic. I had some lingering trauma thoughts skipping through my thoughts the next morning but they were easy enough to overwrite by thinking about Dominic’s hand on my hip, his chest against my back, his breath on my hair. It was even better in my memories where I had time to properly savor it.

  Aunt Josie cornered me the next morning and pulled me into her hobby room to talk. So, yeah, I was in trouble. She stared at me for a long minute, the way all moms do when they’re disappointed and trying to gauge how tough love they need to be. Aunt Josie is about as tough as a dandelion, which if you don’t know, is the most persistent and resilient of all the lions. “I have no idea how to make what I’m about to say not awkward. But we need to talk about last night. You know, school night curfews, people who worry about you, safe sex, whatever. You can start.”

  “Yep,” I agreed. “This is awkward.” There was no way I was going to tell her everything that happened. I’d already decided I wasn’t even going to tell Julian, and I tell him everything. “Aunt Josie, I’m sorry I was out so late last night and I’m sorry I made you worry. When I dropped Ryan off, we got to talking and suddenly it was 3am. I am definitely paying the price for that one,” I yawned. “And you don’t need to worry about the sex stuff. I’m saving myself for a responsible adults kind of situation.”

  Aunt Josie smiled and gave me a hug. “I told your uncle Tate there was nothing to worry about.” And then she sighed. “I should have put money on it. I think he worries the girls are rubbing off on you, but I keep hoping you’ll rub off on them.”

  I had no idea what to do with that, so I just smiled.

  “If you like this Ryan guy so much, you should have him over for dinner some night.”

  And there was the punishment.

  “That sounds like it could be sensationally awkward.”

  “Yeah, probably,” Aunt Josie admitted with a shrug. “But it can’t be helped now,” she gave me and awkward smile. “You just let me know when.”

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Coffee was going to be an ongoing must have if I was going to stay awake today. And my car needed gas. I seriously considered a mini-nap while I filled my tank but decided to check my texts instead. I had waiting texts from Dominic, Ryan, Kimber, and Mom.

  The evening before Dominic had sent me a selfie of him in his truck. He looked irritated.

  DW: Look at me, going out, doing things.

  The one I didn’t send was still there. I deleted it and typed up something new.

  KF: What are your thoughts on the idea that everything happens for a reason?

  I clicked over to my unread texts from Ryan

  RM: I don’t even know how to begin to say I’m sorry for what happened. But I refuse to apologize for who my parents are, it’s too much like excusing their behavior. That said, I am feeling pretty shit for getting you caught up in the garbage heap that is my life. I had no idea they were going to go full lizard people.

  RM: I’ll understand if you want to bail on whatever this thing is you and me have started. I hope you’ll understand if I beg you not to.

  RM: Can we do lunch? Do normal? You don’t need to text back, if you’re there, you’re there. If not… I’ll see you when you’re ready to talk to me again.

  Nobody should have to deal with lizard people for parents alone. And, at this point I think it’s fair to say that my drama avoidance systems are completely on the fritz. I’m sure the Queen B in me has something to do with it. I’d knew I’d see Ryan in 2nd period, but decided to text him anyway.

  KF: Freaked out? Yes. Backing down? No. Plotting my revenge? Count on it. I don’t have a specific plan yet but there will be rainbows for sure.

  The text from Kimber was next:

  KimE: Dude! It’s 2am. Mom is freaking out. I told her I tracked your phone and that you were at Ryan’s. You’re welcome. BTW, I know exactly where you ACTUALLY were. We are SOOOO talking about this, young lady! Also, I accidentally dropped the third Bell’s End book in the toilet and it was too gross to rescue, but since I covered for you, I’ve decided you can buy yourself a replacement. I used your Amazon account, it arrives on Monday, along with books 4, 5, and 6, that you also paid for. Thank you and you’re welcome.

  KF: If you want details it’s going to cost you. Sunday morning. Wear something you can work out in.

  I crossed my fingers and hoped the text from Mom wasn’t because Aunt Josie had tattled.

  AH: I goofed! I thought I mailed your birthday present last week and then I just found it. It’s on its way now though. Love you, Kat!

  KF: Love you!

  Gas pumped, coffee in hand, Dominic texted back.

  DW: Cause and effect? Yes. Divine? No.

  School moved by in an oddly average school day haze. It was almost like there was an unspoken
agreement between the three of us to act like nothing unusual had transpired in the 24 hours prior and everything was normal normal normal, right up until lunch, when normal would have seen me in the library while Ryan and Dominic would have gone to the lunchroom. Instead, we all went directly to the South lot and climbed into Dominic’s truck. “Ryan, is your mom… okay?” I managed, just as we left the lot.

  Ryan put his head down. “She’s fine. You’re not going to like what I’m about to say, but it needs saying. My parents aren’t normal. Not even close. I know what you saw looked bad, but it’s so much worse than that, because it’s not just who he is, it’s who she is too. I don’t know that anybody likes having the crap beat out of them but she’ll be the first person to tell you she deserved it.”

  “So, your parents are like sado-masachists or something?” My voice squeaked at the end, making me sound as totally freaked out as I was. Who enrolls an underage, unwilling, and unknowing person into that kind of stuff!? I mean, ew. And also, rude! And just ew!

  “Eh,” Ryan considered. “Nah. They’re just psychopaths.”

 

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