Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

I was happier than I thought I’d be to say good-bye to February. Even more so than I was to say good-bye to January. And then, barely a week into March, I twisted my ankle. I wish I could say I was doing something epic and cool, like saving a baby in a runaway stroller, or wearing heels, but I wasn’t. I was getting the mail and noticed that half of it was meant for the neighbors, easy enough just to walk it across the street, right? I thought so. And then I stepped off the curb and onto a rock. It was a small rock, but it was enough to tip my balance, turn my ankle, and send me careening to the ground.

  I righted myself pretty quick, my left ankle stung a bit, so did both knees and hands which were a little bit road scraped, but it didn’t seem like anything too serious. I delivered the mail to the neighbors and started home. Each step slowly becoming more painful than the next. By the time I got back to the house my left ankle was screaming in pain and noticeably bigger than the right one.

  Many F words were said as I snapped a picture of my ankles side by side and sent it to Julian. And if you thought I wasn’t at a doctors office later that day, you haven’t been paying attention to how ridiculously overprotective Julian is.

  It was just a sprain, but I got crutches, strict orders about icing and elevating, and it changed work and practice for the next couple of weeks.

  Ryan offered to carry me between classes. I turned him down because I’m not that lame — physically or otherwise. Kayley profoundly disagreed. According to her, not allowing a hot guy to carry my lame ass around school is one of the lamest things I’ve ever done. Then she called me a romance killer and threatened to hide my crutches. The crutches were more precautionary than anything else. I was just supposed to use them until it didn’t hurt to put weight on my foot. Except this had to be independently verified by Julian so I was on crutches for seven days even though I really only needed them for four, maybe five.

  I still went to work and practice while I was limping around. But now work was basically me observing and Alaina teaching. She’s way better at it. The kids like her better too. I can’t say I mind. She’s always so enthusiastic and chipper. What kind of jerk would I be to be envious of someone like that? Honestly, there’s so much I could learn from Alaina… not that I’m going to, I’m just saying, Alaina’s awesome.

  Practices basically sucked though. We were working on a new routine for an audition in April. I needed to learn it, but I couldn’t actually participate. Again, I was stuck watching Alaina. She’s talented, but her and Julian lack chemistry, so the whole thing looked like pretend.

  One day I got to watch Jake and Julian together. They have pretty decent chemistry, and it was way sexy to watch them together. But dude on dude anything being a major turn-on was already something I knew about myself.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Baseball season started the second week in March, and for some reason there were like a billion games over the next three months. Okay, I’m exaggerating, there was only like, 20 or 25 or something, but they happened a lot. Pretty much every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

  When they were home games and on a Wednesday or a Friday I went. And when they had Friday night dances after, I absolutely went to those, even when I hadn’t been ‘Julian knows best’ cleared to free dance, I went. Kimber sent him pictures of me sitting on the bleachers and definitely not dancing to prove I wasn’t overdoing it.

  Baseball isn’t as confusing as football, which is nice. But the best part of baseball is that you can tell who everybody is because they’re not wearing bulky padding and helmets. Or maybe that’s the second best part, the first part being the uniforms themselves. Can we just take a second here to talk about knickers? The idea of a guy in half pants with socks to his knees sounds absolutely ridiculous, but the reality of it is absolutely scrumptious.

  Now, it’s one thing to appreciate how fast Dominic can run, it’s another thing entirely to watch the concentration and determination on his face, whilst also being able to see his muscles working under a perfectly form fitted uniform. It’s very… words don’t, uhm… it’s like: oh, yum, wow, that’s so hot right now I can’t even… am I drooling? Yes, and I don’t even care.

  And, not that he’s an afterthought, even a little bit, but Ryan’s nice to look at on the field too. Plus, anytime he makes eye contact, he winks and blows kisses. It’s too cute and sexy for words. And that’s why I have lots and lots of pictures of both of them on my phone. None of them do the majesty and magnificence of it any justice. But they’re enough to trigger a memory as I lie in bed and wonder why I was never really into sports before…

  So anyway, on a day that could have been any Tuesday during study group, I got a text from Dominic that included a picture of papers, which was kind of odd, because his typical pics are food, selfies, and the occasional meme or barnyard animal he was paling around with. That sounds weird, but he lives where there are chickens and a cow and a goat, so it’s really not. Anyway, picture of papers. I tried to zoom in but it was mostly unreadable, except the logo at the top looked a whole lot like the logo and colors of Center State University.

  DW: Full ride. I feel like I’ve won the lottery. In a way, I guess I have.

  KF: Congratulations!!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this — I’m super proud, super impressed. You’re amazing, Dominic!

  Wednesday, at lunch, he said nothing about it to me and Ryan. Nothing. By Friday, I’d become so miffed about the fact that he wasn’t sharing his good news with his real life friends that I brought up the subject of college, at lunch. Flat out asked him if he had plans to go. He just nodded and tossed me a casual “Yep.”

  “Which one?”

  “Center State.”

  “Is that… a sure thing? Like, have you been accepted already?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded.

  And that was it. That was all he was gonna say about it. He changed the subject to the game they had later that day against the East Ridge Rangers. A game we won, 9 to 6, in case anyone wanted to know.

  Later that night, after the dance, after Ryan drove me home and we were sitting in my car talking, I blabbed Dominic’s good news to him, and he told me, he already knew. “Coach told us,” he shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

  “But why wouldn’t he tell you and me? You know, his friends?”

  “Because he doesn’t think we see money the same way. We both have it. Neither of us need scholarships to go to school, neither of us even tried to get them.”

  “But I’m not even going to college.”

  “Yeah, but if either of us want to go, we just pay for it and go. Dominic worked his ass off for that scholarship, it’s precious to him, and he’s just trying to blend in, so he’s never gonna talk about it, especially not with us, his friends with money.”

  “Omigawd, Ryan, are we snobby assholes?”

  “Me more than you, but yeah.”

  “Well that sucks.”

  Ryan laughed while I pouted. Then he leaned in and kissed the corner of my frown. “You want to go to the mall and buy stuff to make ourselves feel better?”

  “No,” I grumble laughed at him.

  “Then you’d better stop pouting before I decide you need diamonds to cheer you up.”

  “Oh yeah, you’re definitely a snobby asshole,” I teased.

  Ryan just laughed.

  Chapter 33

  Dear Diary,

  I’m pretty sure it’s normal for people to take vacations to warm and possibly exotic locations during spring break. Especially when it’s also your birthday. Julian and I are working. I’m not complaining though. My ankle is all better and it’s been way way way too long since I’ve been in front of an audience. Months. Like 6 months or something crazy like that. So, basically, forever. And Julian’s not complaining because he got to spend his birthday doing Vegas things in Vegas. The kind he said were not for youthful minds to know about, but later told me was doing shots with strippers and having a go at pole dancing at a nightclub.

  I feel kind of
bad that I couldn’t go, but I spent the night lounging in a hot tub, watching The Labyrinth, and drinking peanut butter and strawberry smoothies, so not super bad.

  Our performance was also an audition, but it was mostly a technicality. We’ve already got the gig, it’s just about working out show details and schedule and all the stuff that Linda is so good at handling for us.

  Oh, and then, something epic happened — Ryan went to Vegas! Sunday he sent me a pic of me and Jules taken during our Saturday night performance — because he was there! No idea how he found us. Luck? Fate? Exceptional stalking skills? All of those things?

  I’m a little miffed he didn’t come talk to me after the show, when I was crowd shmoozing, but whatevs.

  It’s raining in Vegas, but not on my parade.

  -Kat

  Along with the pic of me and Jules doing our thing, Ryan texted:

  RM: I went to Vegas this weekend. I even caught a show. Best show ever! I told the guy sitting next to me that you were my girlfriend. He called me a liar. I liked it. I think I liked it better than if he’d believed me and been impressed.

  KF: What!? I can’t believe you were here and you didn’t come talk to me and let me properly introduce you to Mr. Overprotective.

  RM: That’s Mr. Ridiculously Overprotective… Maybe one day I will, but for now, I’d rather just lustily watch the two of you from afar.

  I was beyond surprised his parents had let him take a weekend excursion down to ‘the devil’s playground,’ but the trip wasn’t recreational. He was picking up his new vehicle. A customized Range Rover with all the bells and whistles and knobs and features. Including an extra something something that was called ‘the orange package’ and looked exactly like a blue Chevy Cruze. Which is a sedan, if you didn’t know.

  Ryan explained, it was going to be an orange Chevy Cruze, but he decided he liked the blue one better at the last minute. So I guess technically he got the blue package, but it’s all BS to cover the fact that he bought two cars so orange, blue, pink, doesn’t really matter.

  His accomplice in all this? Zack Rydell. Zack helped him with the whole thing and agreed to keep the vehicle at his place, and in exchange, he and his date would be included on Ryan’s prom night plans — whatever those were gonna be. I asked Zack how he thought that was a good trade since if he were planning on going with Kimber he’d already be included in those plans because of me and Kimber. He told me, it wasn’t about the deal, it was about there being a deal.

  I don’t get it.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  April was about to become May, I was practicing in the garage, and Kimber was loitering. It was kind of like hanging out, but with less talking and more wandering around, picking up random objects, considering them and then putting them down. She organized a drawer that had some tools in it, moved some boxes around so it would be easier to get to the summer stuff, and she sighed and tsk’d a lot. And when I asked if she wanted to talk, she’d say, “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m still thinking about it.”

  Occasionally she’d mention something from the book series she was reading and I needed to pick up again. She was ahead by two books and I was reading a completely different series so our conversations were limited if they remained without spoilers.

  Eventually she stopped in the direct center of the garage, eyeing her ‘organizing the garage’ dirty hands and said, “Hey, so do you wanna go get some ice cream, or pizza, or a muffin, or maybe just go for a walk, or get some fries, or something? Maybe we can talk or not talk and just you know, whatever? After I wash my hands,” she added. This was Kimber’s way of letting me know she was ready to talk about whatever had her so antsy.

  “Sure. You can drive, let me just grab a sweater.”

  She had her hands washed and the car started before I’d even made it to where my sweater was laying over a chair in our get ready room. She drove us to a park less than a block away and parked the car. “Okay,” she sighed, turning in her seat. “So nothing has happened yet, sex-wise, between me and Zack because you know, whatever. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I think I’m going to have sex with Zack on prom night. I mean, I know I want to, and I know I want it to be with Zack, but is Prom night, I don’t know, too cliché?”

  “I don’t know. Is there something wrong with cliché?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, back seat of a car is also cliché and seems horrid and trashy and just ‘no’ but Prom sounds kind of romantic, and special, but also just super… cliché, like I don’t want to lose my V-card the same night as like, 50 other girls that go to my school, you know, that seems just über lame. But it’s also like kind of romantic too, you know?”

  “You could always wait ’til the graduation overnighter,” I offered.

  “Oh, no. No no no. I’m not having sex for the first time in a tent. Gross. And also, fabric walls are too thin if you know what I’m saying. What if one of us is a screamer? I don’t think either of us are screamers,” she added. “I’m just saying, no cars, no tents. I need like a comfy bed and rose petals, and a playlist, and like cute underwear and stuff.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I don’t think cliché is as important a factor as ‘are you ready for it?’ Is this something you want to do with Zack or are you just trying to tick a box, you know?”

  “I really think I love Zack. I think he’s funny, and charming, and smart, and sexy. And he’s kind, and he really cares, and he’s a total perv but he never pushes me or makes me feel uncomfortable or anything. It’s just like he can’t not think about sex, which I kind of get because I think about it a lot too. Oh — by the way, totally, mostly not related, there’s a sex seen in the 5th Bell’s End. I’m going to highlight it and mark the page, and probably print a copy to just keep around because… damn. It’s just… damn. I can’t say more because spoilers,” she held her breath. “So good!” She squeaked.

  “You know I can’t answer this for you, right? This is something that’s up to you.”

  “I know. But is it cliché?”

  “Maybe a little bit but what first time isn’t?”

  She thought about it for a minute. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I can’t actually think of any way to have sex for the first time and have it not be some kind of cliché.”

  “Well, you know, sex, it’s not a new thing.”

  Kimber smiled and started the car. “Okay, so, french fries?”

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Kimber’s ‘cliché’ concerns got me thinking about my first time having sex. I’d never really given it a lot of thought before, other than combinations of ‘I’m not ready’ and ‘what I’ve got going on with myself is working just fine.’

  But if I’m being completely clear on the issue, when I’m alone with Ryan, and he pulls me close, when he runs his fingers over my skin and breathes me in before he kisses me, which is this thing he does that is just so — I don’t know, sexy as fuuuu. I think about it. And when I’m texting Dominic and he’s saying things like:

  DW: I dream about you sometimes. I dream about what it will be like to reach out and touch you — like a dream come true.

  And:

  DW: Confession time: I’m counting down the days until I have you in my arms. Yes, in my arms. If you think we’re meeting and I’m not giving you the biggest hug the world has ever seen, you’re in for one hell of an embrace. There might even be twirling and singing.

  And:

  DW: Whatever it is we have, mind or heart or soul, I don’t know, but I know yours feeds mine. I didn’t know I was starving until I met you. Now, I crave you.

  He just sends these kinds of things randomly. He sent me that last one while I was on my way to Julian’s. I don’t car text, because I’m not into reckless driving, so I waited until I was walking from the car to the building to read it. ‘I crave you’? What the what? That’s so totally freaking hot. Normally, lately, these kinds of texts just make me feel kind of sad — because I know how it’s going to end. I mean, not exa
ctly but basically: not well. And probably in tears. But this time, instead of thinking about the inevitable doom and gloom, for three solid seconds I just stood in the middle of the parking lot imagining Dominic saying those words to me. Hand on my cheek, other hand at the small of my back, his lips kissably close…

  And then it started to rain. Big fat blobs of cold water plopping down on me got me moving again pretty quick. By the time I got to Julian’s apartment there was so much rain pouring out of the sky the view was completely obscured by a sheet of fierce falling rain.

  “Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” Julian beamed. “The idea of you being out in this weather, driving in it,” he fretted. He swept me up in a huge hug and covered me in kisses.

  When the rain let up we ordered take-out and snuggled on the couch wrapped in soft blankets. I texted all my regulars that I’d be unplugging for the weekend. Most of them immediately texted back to acknowledge they’d gotten the message. Kimber texted me five times. They were mostly reminders of things she wanted to remember to talk to me about when I saw her again. I figured she was probably going to keep doing that all weekend, so I made sure to put my phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode before losing it on top of the fridge.

  Julian and I talked for hours and he showed me some design ideas he had for my prom dress. I made some color requests he was more than happy to accommodate, even though it basically meant he’d be making me a totally different dress.