Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

  I wondered if things were different between us.

  It didn’t feel any different but then—

  Yeah. They totally were. I’d agreed to have a baby with him. What the hell was I thinking? Of the few things I knew for sure, I was 100% not capable of taking on the care and nurturing of a whole other completely helpless human being. But I had time and I had Julian and I knew he’d be an awesome father.

  I decided to put it on a list of things to worry about in 10 years and even added a reminder to my calendar 10 years out that said: “Making a baby with Jules?” And then I laughed at the idea that I could have the same phone in ten years and did my best to push the thought out of my head because 10 years is a long time and thinking about it before then was basically pointless, and also inevitable, but calendaring it was a fairly decent way to trick myself into thinking I could totally worry about it later.

  It works surprisingly well.

  Chapter 34

  The end of school was fast approaching and all conversations were about three things: Prom, graduation, and next year. Every other year I can remember it was mostly about summer. This year it was all about where everyone was going to be. Mostly it was This University or That University. I would be working. AP classes count as college credit, so I had a nice head start, but there wasn’t anything I wanted to study. I just wanted to perform. More school could wait. Like maybe the same time I was prego and then momming. Cyr with a great big belly would probably be weird, it’d be in the way and my balance would most definitely be off. Plus it would look super bizarre, for sure. And no doubt — even with books a plenty — I was going to be bored out of my mind if I couldn’t be spinning. And babies don’t do a lot at first which also seems pretty boring, so yeah, seems like a perfect time to go back to school if I decide that’s what I want to do.

  Ryan made this huge scene in the lunchroom to formally ask me to prom. He got down on one knee and presented me with a small box with a ring inside. It was made of paper that said, in very tiny letters: Will you be my prom date? Y/N

  There was obviously much gasping and chatter and there were even a few shrieks. A lot of people had their phones out to record the debacle that looked exactly like the most popular guy in school asking the relatively unknown nerd girl to marry him.

  “You’re enjoying this way too much,” I smiled down at him as he grinned ear to ear and chuckled deviously.

  “You guys are weird,” Dominic shook his head at us and snapped a photo.

  “Well,” Ryan waited. “What’s your answer? Will you be my prom date?”

  I grabbed him by his collar, leaned close and said, “I’m never going to marry you, Ryan, but I would love to be your date for prom.” And then I gave him a peck on the lips.

  He stood, deepened the kiss, picked me up, twirled me around and hollered, “She said yes, everybody! We’re going to prom!!” He had to scream the last part so he could be heard over all the gasping and shouts of dismay.

  Much moaning, booing and hissing, and some clapping followed.

  Ryan pulled out a pink highlighter and had me mark the Y and then he slid the ring onto my finger — the pointer finger of my left hand. This was so I could point at him for photos with a face that said, ‘this guy!’ I don’t know if that was the look he was hoping for, but that was the look he got. Dominic took those photos, shaking his head but smiling and chuckling the entire time. Then Ryan slipped his hand into mine and said. “Okay, that was fun. Let’s go out. I’m thinking tacos.”

  The tacos were amazing, BTW.

  It was an epic food day, because later that night, while I gobbled down the worlds best beef and broccoli, that just happens to be made by my Uncle Tate, Kimber retold the tale of ‘Ryan Mather’s and The Big Ask’ to a captivated Kayley, and amused Uncle Tate and Aunt Josie. I enjoyed hearing the tale from her viewpoint, from what she called ‘the nerds and dorks corridor,’ where she was sitting with Zack and his friends, halfway across the lunchroom. She heard all the best comments, like: “Isn’t that girl some kind of narc?” And “I can’t tell if this is the most or the least romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” And my personal favorite: “Woah, I totally thought that dude was gay.”

  As Kayley was griping about how all the best stuff happens when she’s not there, and then had to explain that she wasn’t in the lunchroom because she had in school detention during lunch as punishment for “accidentally calling one of her teachers an asshat,” I got a text from Dominic. Along with it were a couple of the photos he’d taken earlier that day.

  I showed everybody the photos, but waited until I was alone to read the message that came with them. And by the time I had a moment to myself, in the bathroom, he’d sent another, more lengthy, text.

  DW: Ryan asked Katie to prom in the most dramatic way possible. My friends are weird, but they’re mine, and I love them.

  DW: You’ve changed me, Kat. Without you, I doubt I’d be as good a friends as I am with these two dorks. Ryan and I have been buds for ages, but we were never close, not like we are now, like we’ve become this year. I never would have put in the effort if you hadn’t encouraged me to do so. I would have just let senior year be what I always thought it was: one long last good-bye to childhood. I was sort of looking forward to it actually. Now? I don’t know. I love that I have them but I doubt we’ll stay friends long after graduation. I’d like to, but let’s be real, everybody’s going their own way, doing their own thing. I’d be amazed if we kept in touch beyond the first couple of months. I’m gonna miss these two, for sure. It’s bittersweet.

  I finished my business, washed my hands and sat on the edge of the counter as I answered him back.

  KF: Dominic, some of the people I love are scattered across the world and we keep in touch. It’s 100% true that some relationships fizzle away, but some don’t. Some grow stronger over time. Some seem distant until you’re together and then they aren’t. But they’ll all fade to nothing if you don’t try. You owe it to yourself to at least try and keep the people you care about in your life. Look back at the pictures you’ve sent me if you think it’s going to be hard to do that. Your feelings for them aren’t one-way, I promise.

  He texted back almost immediately.

  DW: Fair point. And more proof that I’d be lost without you, Kat.

  KF: You say that like maps aren’t a thing.

  DW: You’re not a map — you’re a compass. And I was wandering aimlessly before I found you.

  “Aww,” I cooed out loud, just before my brain kicked in and reminded me that as romantic and heartwarming as that sentiment was, he wasn’t actually talking about me, he was talking about the fantasy of me he’d built up in his mind. “Oh,” I moaned.

  KF: As sweet as that is, you give me too much credit. It’s going to bite you in the ass one day — and not in a good way.

  DW: Lol. How so?

  KF: Because it’s not me. And one day, when you see who I actually am… I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen but, spoilers: it’s going to be a disaster.

  DW: I hate it when you insinuate meeting you or getting to know you in person equates to me somehow loving you less. It’s not going to happen.

  KF: No, you won’t love me less, and I won’t love you less, but the disappointment will be real, hence the disaster.

  DW: Uh… what? That makes no sense.

  KF: I know. I’m sorry for that too.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Julian had to be out of town signing contracts the weekend of prom, and so the weekend before I got all dressed up and done up and we did a full photo-shoot. It had the dual purpose of being awesome pics of me in my prom dress, and promo photos for our performance during Pride. He even surprised me with matching rainbow colored extensions, so I could be colorful all over.

  The dress is stunning and all the things I wanted it to be: elegant, simple, and rainbow-colored. The top is a halter cut that swoops low in the back, the bottom is asymmetrical and flowy, and the whole thing is custom
painted in swirling rainbow floral on white. The colors are bright, but not bold and soft, but not pastel.

  And because it was designed for performing in, the dress came with its own matching pair of sparkly rainbow undies. Of course I was going to wear them to prom. How could I not? Not that anyone was likely to see them but just in case I decided to be acrobatic or swing from a chandelier or something; best to be prepared. Also, besides being super cute they’re no slip, no climb, and comfy.

  Shoes aren’t a thing when I’m performing, but Jules had thought of everything, so for prom I’d be wearing a pair of pale pinkish nude flats with ribbon laces that criss-crossed up my calves.

  Julian had made himself a matching vest with a halter neckline, cut low in the back, and white pants. And he’d made a matching full vest and tie for Ryan. I hung them all next to each other on a clothes rack with the dress in the middle and snapped a picture. They were less awesome on hangers, but the best clothes always are.

  I was beyond pumped after the photo-shoot, and drove directly from there to Ryan’s to give him his vest and tie. My mood took a major plunge when I discovered his parents were home, but I figured I could at least be civil.

  …

  Okay, so sometimes I can be optimistic.

  …

  “Can I try it on?” Ryan beamed as he stared at the black bag with Julian’s signature on the side, in iridescent silver.

  “Yes, of course.” I laughed. “You probably should actually, just in case it needs altering. You’re about four inches taller than Julian, but—”

  “I’m taller?” he chuckled.

  “Yep, like three or for inches is all but I’m pretty sure you’re the same size otherwise. At least in the torso,” I added, completely unnecessarily. “I mean, you feel like you’re the exact same size when I have my arms around you, and you know,” I rambled on, wishing I could find a way to just not be talking anymore, or at least not have my arms up in a hug circle. “I do spend a fairly decent amount of time with my arms wrapped around…”

  “Stop bragging,” Ryan teased.

  “Yep,” I nodded and put my arms down.

  He reached in the bag and gingerly pulled out the vest. Half a second later it was back in the bag and he was wiping his eyes.

  “You don’t like it?” I asked, knowing that wasn’t the case.

  He pulled me into a deep hug. “I love it, Kat,” he whispered against my ear. “I love it so much.”

  “Is that Katarina I hear?” A lizard hag croaked, just before securing the zipper on her people suit and walking into Ryan’s room.

  “Yep,” Ryan pushed a smile.

  “Mrs. Mathers,” I nodded with indifference. “I was just dropping off Ryan’s vest and tie for prom.”

  Mrs. Mathers picked up the bag and traced her fingers over Julian’s name. “Isn’t this your aerialist partner?”

  Look who figured out how to google. “Yep. It’s still mostly a hobby for him, at least when it’s not a costume, but he’s very talented.”

  Mrs. Mathers reached into the bag grinning cheerily and pulled out the rainbow colored creation. Her smile faltered. “Ryan,” she shook her head at him. “This is,” she stammered.

  “Amazing isn’t it?” I supplied an appropriate answer for her. “And it matches my dress, perfectly.” I continued, as if I wasn’t talking to a homophobic bigot. “I mean, of course it does, they were custom made for each other.” I reached for the vest and bag. She pulled back, gripping them in her claws. I scowled at her. “Let me have them,” I growled as calmly as I could as I pushed a smile that I hope said, ‘or I’ll ruin you.’

  She handed them over, I held the vest up for Ryan to try on. He slipped his arms in made some comment about wearing a white dress shirt, rather than a gray tee, and I fastened the buttons.

  The fit was perfect and it looked amazing.

  Mrs. Mathers lip quivered, her face was flush. “I’m just not sure the coloring is a good fit for Ryan.”

  “Of course it is,” I forced a laugh. “It’s all the colors. The whole rainbow is represented,”I totally over-emphasized, complete with a rainbow wave of my hand.

  “Yes, well, that’s kind of my point. Don’t you think that’s the kind of thing that might send the wrong kind of message?”

  My hand moved entirely on its own to my hip— “What ‘wrong kind of message’ is that exactly?”

  Mrs. Mathers steadied herself and turned toward Ryan. “What do you think will happen when your father sees that, Ryan?” She hiss whispered as she motioned toward him, shaking her head.

  Ryan took off the vest and slipped it back into the safety of its black bag. “I honestly don’t think he has two shits to give about what I wear to some school dance.” He handed the bag to me. “Unless you’re looking to make this an issue.”

  “I’m not making this an issue, Ryan. It’s already an issue, you’re just refusing to address it, and I’m afraid that’s going to have some serious repercussions for you.”

  Barf and more barf — she wasn’t saying afraid like she was afraid for him, she was saying it like a threat. I suddenly didn’t care that this grotesque excuse for a person got hit every now and then. I kind of wanted to hit her myself right now. I did sort of feel bad about not feeling bad about any of it though, which is a really confusing way to feel.

  “Do what you’ve gotta do.” Ryan shrugged and threw his arms wide. “I honestly don’t give a fuck anymore. About any of it.”

  “Don’t get fresh with me, young man. Pretending that,” she pointed in the general direction of me and the black bag in my hands, “isn’t an absolute slap in the face to this family is beyond offensive,” she grumbled. “I can have your credit cards cancelled like that,” she snapped her fingers. “And no money means no dance, no grand weekend plans, no therapy, no car, no dance lessons, none of it, Ryan. You remember that.”

  “You’d never let me forget,” Ryan shrugged. I think I caught half a hidden smile as her list included a fair number of phony expenses that had gone directly into his ‘escape this mess of a family’ fund.

  Mrs. Mathers pressed her lips together. She was fuming, I think. Emotions are kind of hard to read on people with clinically assisted facial paralysis.

  A better indicator of the situation was Ryan. His eyes were on the floor in front of my feet, his whole body relaxed — not like calm though, more like defeated.

  “Look, Lady,” I stepped between her and Ryan. “I don’t actually enjoy being a bitch, but if you think I’m interested in playing nice with you while you pull this shit, you’ve read me wrong yet again. I’m sure it was quite obvious, the last time we spoke, that I find your fucked up horror-show of a family to be, well… horrific. But it doesn’t frighten me,” I lied. “It disgusts me.” That bit was true. “For Ryan’s sake, I tolerate it. But if you can’t manage to keep your trash heap of a life well away from my comfort zones, I’m gonna start getting really loud about having someone take the garbage out.”

  She looked confused, and pushed a haughty laugh. “Are you trying to threaten me?”

  “I don’t really care how you take it. I’m just telling you what’s going to happen if you don’t leave things alone,” I shrugged. “I won’t either.”

  Mrs. Mathers glared, silently. “Get out of my house,” she said coolly.

  “Gladly,” I turned to Ryan. “You wanna come with?”

  “I better not,” he said softly.

  “You gonna be okay?”

  He nodded.

  I leaned in and gave him a peck on the corner of his mouth. “If you need me?”

  “Yeah.”

  I wasn’t about to leave the vest and tie anyplace the bigot might be able to get her claws into it, so I took it with me as I left.

  Mr. Mathers caught me in the entryway.

  “Hello Katarina,” he called, quickly assessing that I was leaving, he added, “You’re not leaving are you? You just got here. LeAnna and I were hoping you’d stay for dinner.”
r />   “Yeah… not the impression I got. Oh, and at this point, I think you can just count on that never happening.” I twisted the knob to leave, but then I turned back to add, “Oh, and if you and yours have plans to ruin our prom and graduation plans with your homophobic bullshit, you should know, I will happily sue the ever living crap out of you both.”

  Mr. Mathers shook his head, he looked both confused and shocked, and then he chuckled. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, but even if it came to it, it would be nothing more than a frivolous waste of time and money.”

  “And one hell of a news story,” I grinned. “So win or lose — ultimately, in the public eye, you don’t.” Mr. Mathers started to say something but I didn’t have it in me to withstand even a second more. I tossed out a cheery but curt, “Goodbye, Mr. Mathers” and left.

  I was backing out of the driveway when Ryan came running out. “Never mind,” he climbed into my car, “I’m coming with you.”

  I waited until we were out of the neighborhood to ask, “What changed?”

  “We heard you talking to my dad, she pointed at the door and told me to ‘Go fix this mess!’” he imitated her, but not well. “So here I am. I think you scared her.”

  “You’re dad’s going to beat her up again isn’t he?”

  Ryan took a slow breath in and out again. “It’s possible.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with your parents?” I blurted.

  “I don’t know. Don’t want to know.”

  “Maybe we should call somebody about it, you know? Like the cops or social services or something?”