by Mj Fields
I look at Josie to see if she is truly okay with just her and Cecilia going. I owe her that for basically covering for me. I am pretty sure she suspects something is wrong with me, and I suspect she knows it’s Professor Michaels.
She seems okay.
“Positive.”
Cecilia flags down a cab, “Come on, we’ll get you back to the dorms first.”
“I can walk,” I say. They look at me like they now feel bad and that’s not what I’m going for. “Seriously, go, have fun. I’ll see you when you get back.”
****
I round the corner and start to cut through the yard when I see him, under the same tree I have sat all week when I am escaping in my drawing. He has on a knit cap, pulled down low. An army green parka and loose fitting jeans. He looks like a student, not an assistant professor. Wentworth Miller, hot. Walk away, I will myself. I look down and notice he also has on birks...with socks. I focus on how unsexy that is as I turn and walk away.
I walk faster when I see him out of my peripheral hurrying toward me.
“Damn it Katherine,” his voice booms in the darkness.
I stop and look around, no one else is in the yard.
“Are you insane?” I say as he gets closer.
“No. You and I need to chat.”
“No. You and I don’t need to —”
His hands grab my face and he pulls me harshly against him, then his soft lips cover mine.
A lump builds in my throat. How is it that I can stow all emotions and feelings so deep inside of me until his lips effortlessly cause them to rise up?
I pull away, “Don’t.”
“You are going to ruin everything Katherine. Every fucking thing I have worked for. You are going to destroy it.” He says in a voice that is full of anger, pain, and...heat.
I push his hands off my face. “You are going to do that all by yourself,” I pause, “Professor.”
“I haven’t slept in days, days Katherine Brun.”
“Maybe you should try some Nyquil,” I say as I turn to walk away.
“I need you.” His hand clasps mine and stops me. “Hell, I need to know what it is you plan to do. How will you ruin me?”
“I have no intention of ruining you,” I feel a tear spill down my cheek. “Just leave me alone.”
His eyes close shut and his face tenses. “You are. You are ruining me because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“That’s on you. Now please, just leave me —”
“I can’t!” He yells and it frightens me. “Jesus, I’m not trying to scare you. Hell I don’t know what I’m doing but please, I am begging you, please give me an hour, a conversation. Fuck! You owe me that.”
“I don’t owe you —”
He pulls me into his arms, “I’m begging you Katherine. I need closure or I won’t be able to get through this semester. I can’t look at you sitting there knowing that you want me as much as I want you. We need each other. From the moment we met, we’ve needed each other.”
Never in my life have I had anyone talk to me like that. To say they wanted me, that they needed me, and have it seem so genuine that I can’t ignore it.
“Owen, I need and want you to leave. I need and want you to stop calling me, stop texting me, stop —.”
“Impossible.”
The smart thing to do when he started walking to the parking lot would have been to pull away and go to my dorm, but I didn’t.
He opens the door to his brown Chevy pickup and I don’t move.
He scrunches his eyes shut, “Please.”
I get in and he shuts the door.
Stupid girl.
He climbs in the driver’s side and says nothing. His chest is rising and falling, his knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel while he drives off campus.
The drive is mere minutes but it seems like forever.
He pulls in the parking lot of his apartment building and I stay in the truck afraid to get out.
He opens the door, “Come on.”
Once inside his apartment he immediately shuts and locks the door. I fight myself not to take off my clothes.
He throws his coat off, then his hat. His brown hair is flat to his head. He runs his hands through it and pulls his shirt off.
He looks up as he is unbuttoning his pants and I force myself to look away.
“Katherine, clothes.”
I shake my head no and he drops his pants, steps out of them and walks toward me. He grabs my hands. “We won’t have sex okay; I just need to be close to you.”
I stand there like a complete idiot and allow him to pull my long-sleeved tee over my head and then he pulls my leggings down.
“Step out,” he whispers against my belly as he looks up at me.
I do.
He throws them to the side and slowly starts kissing me from my knee, up my leg, then my hip, my belly, my chest, my shoulder, my neck, my cheek.
His arousal is evident, I am sure mine is as well. I close my eyes when he looks into them.
“You didn’t tell them because you don’t want this to stop,” he whispers. “You didn’t tell them because you know what I said is true. You want me, you need me, Katherine. You didn’t go to my boss because you couldn’t stomach being the cause of me losing everything I have worked for. You didn’t do it because just like me, you are falling quickly in love with me.”
I shake my head, “No. I didn’t tell them or anyone because it doesn’t matter.”
“You being here right now, says I am right Katherine,” the way he says my name in a whisper makes me heat up.
“I have one year until I can leave here and guarantee myself a job as a professor anywhere in the country. Do you know what that means to me?”
“I suppose a lot.”
“It’s almost more important to me than anything else in this world. Do you know why I say almost anything, Katherine?”
“Air, water, food —.”
“And you. God help me I would walk away to be with you. I will if you tell me that’s the only way.”
“You know how stupid that is?” I ask as I step back. “How insane that is?” I almost yell.
“Illogical,” he nods. “I don’t like it. Not one bit, but fuck logic. I want you.”
I am stunned, shocked, confused and yes turned on.
I’ve heard lines before, boys will say anything they can to get down your pants. I learned this in the previous two years.
“I’m not a stupid freshman girl, who that kind of line works on, Owen.”
“You are not a stupid anything, Katherine. You are an old soul. A thinker. I bet you think fairytales are for princesses in storybooks. I did too, until you.”
“You think you have everything to lose here, so do I. I busted my ass to get here, I don’t need some boy to screw up my head.” I snap and go for my shirt.
He picks me up so we are eyeball to eyeball, “I’m not some stupid boy who needs to spew lines from romance novels to get a girl and you are not some stupid girl whose head could be messed with.”
He swings me around and cups my ass, my legs automatically grip around his waist.
“You and I can make this work. I trust you not to run your mouth and you can trust me to make sure, after this year, you and I can be together.”
“What makes you think-”
“For once in my life, I’m not worrying about what bomb will go off if I allow my heart to lead me. Please Katherine,” he nuzzles into my neck. “Do the same for me, for you, for us.”
EVIDENCE
It was clear from the night he showed up at Harvard Yard , almost four months ago that he was willing to throw away his life’s work for...me?
The first three weeks we met Tuesdays and Thursdays. He said he needed to get his fill of me before he had to see me in class, and then after to show me how it made him feel to be that close to me without being able to touch me. To talk to me, to just be us. “No one between, no one else’s business, just us.�
�
It made me feel, special. It made me want to keep this secret with him. It was his and mine together.
The following month he needed me on Saturdays too. He helped me study and rewarded me for correct answers. I was rewarded, a lot.
Josie and Cecilia didn’t question Tuesdays and Thursdays. When we started seeing each other on Saturdays, I had to tell them I have a boyfriend. His name was Michael. I also had to promise Friday was girl’s night.
When I told him that he looked shocked, “Boyfriend?”
“That’s not what I meant, it was just so they —”
“No, Katherine, no, it’s okay. I mean that’s what I am. I just can’t wait until I can shout it in Harvard Yard . I can’t wait to tell them all.”
He said he was falling in love with me. I said I was falling down the rabbit hole and he laughed.
He wanted to know about me. I told him what I could, he gave me no more than I gave him.
****
That next time I went to him, I started to undress at the door. He made me stop and took me back to the duck boats. It was cold that day. We were alone, except for the driver. He seemed anxious and I told him we should go back. We didn’t want to chance getting caught.
He stood up and smiled. Then he cupped his hands in front of his mouth and yelled, “I, Owen Michaels, am in love with Katherine Brun, and someday, a day too damn far away, I will show her off to the world.”
He sat down, giddy and smiling, “I love you Katherine.” I shook my head no and he laughed, “Yes and you love me too.”
I was confused, he was still giddy, when we went back to his apartment, he told me I tried to push people away. I had done it with him, and I did it in class with my peers. He told me I did it to hide the pain of losing my father. He said he knew this because he had done the same. His father had died in the Gulf war and he admitted to me he dove into books and women. Lots and lots of women. He was engaged three times because he wanted love so badly. Yet he never loved anyone, not until me. When he met me, he had promised not to force the fall ever again. With me he didn’t have to.
“I love you,” I told him for the first time. “I love you Owen, and I know you're right, but please don’t ask me to walk out into the light or some crap. This, you and me, this is enough.”
“For how long, Katherine,” he asked edging closer.
“As long as —”
“Say forever and you will make me the happiest man in the world.”
“If that’s how long you can make me feel the way you do, then I guess, forever it is.”
He threw the history textbook off my lap and onto the floor and made love to me, right there on the living room floor.
We were a week from winter break and he gave me an envelope.
"What’s this?”
“A week at White Face Mountain. Tell your parents you are going with friends. It can be me, and you for a whole week.”
“I don’t know what they’ll say,” I whisper honestly.
“Just try for me Katherine. Please.”
I could never tell him no when he said please like that, never. It was a plea, and that plea was for me, his Katherine, his love. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
He hugged me and carried me into the bedroom, where he made slow, sweet love to me.
The last week of class and I get a note in my student e-mail to meet him in his office. He had mentioned a fantasy of his, he wanted me sprawled out on his desk while he sat in his chair eating me.
I wondered if maybe this was what the note was all about.
I walked down the corridor toward his office and notice no one else is there. I wonder if they were doing the little holiday party within the History and Lit departments. He said he was avoiding it.
I knocked lightly on his door and he didn’t answer. It was locked. Weird.
I sent him a text and he didn’t reply. This too was odd.
After about fifteen minutes the door opens and I stand smiling at him. He is turned facing in his office and he is tucking in his shirt.
I hear a female voice, “I’m gonna miss our office fucks, Professor Owen.”
Mortified I turn quickly and hear him say, “There’s always break and next semester. I can’t get enough of you. Never could, you know that.”
I make my way around the corner and slide into the faculty bathroom.
The pressure on my heart pushes out a quiet sob and quickly I cover my mouth.
I walk into one of the stalls to grab toilet paper to wipe the damn tears away, and hear the door open. Quietly I close the door and I hear a woman humming. I immediately wonder if it’s the woman from his office. I crouch on the toilet seat so I am not seen.
I hear heels click on the marbled floor and the door to the stall next to me closes.
I don’t have to wonder long if she’s the one Owen was with, “Men,” she mumbles, “Such stupid creatures.”
I see black heels, about four inches and black stockings with a line up the side.
‘Women,’ I think to myself, ‘Such stupid fucking whores.’
****
Once inside my dorm I get a text from him, saying he has that poetry slam tonight with the faculty. He asks if I can stop over later, because he is already missing me.
Fuck you, I type and delete. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! I try to push send but I can’t.
Why would he ask me to come to his office, then send me this message? What the hell was wrong with him!
I stopped by your office as requested via email.
Send.
He replied.
- I didn’t send you an e-mail Katherine.
Apparently you did
Send.
He replied.
- What time?
Half an hour ago.
Send.
He replied.
- I wasn’t there. Sorry. I have no idea, must have been something I left in my draft messages. I should delete those. Sorry Katherine.
Sorry Katherine? Sorry Katherine!
He sends me another text.
- I love you Katherine. We’ll chat tonight. Phones dying. I’m going to charge it now. See you tonight, my love.
****
“Are you going to behave?” Cecilia laughs.
I cross my fingers and put them behind my back, “Yes.”
“Are you sure you want to go to that place again? I mean what if they recognize you?”
“You think there’s a wanted poster hanging up in the post office, ‘Wanted, the Clapper’?” I smile.
It’s not fake or forced either. I actually love these girls. Like real love, the kind that doesn’t kill you, or make you wish you were dead.
****
When we walk in there is no line, I timed it perfectly, without even trying. Huh, works for me.
We sit near the stage and I focus my attention forward, although I can feel his eyes on me. He doesn’t get a glance. He gets nothing except the closure he so begged for that was wrapped in a pretty little lie of a promise.
They ask if anyone has anything before they give the stage over to tonight’s scheduled poetry slam.
I stand and hear Cecilia gasp in shock and Josie mumble, she’s gonna get us stoned.
I don’t wait for an invitation I simply walk up and stand at the mic. I look at Josie and smile. She seems relieved, maybe she has come to the conclusion there will be no ‘stoning’ since the old Harvard faculty was here.
“I am Kat and this is titled 'Closure'.” I briefly glance to Owen, who is looking at me speculatively. Next to him professor Trammel seems to be standing a little too close to him, it seems to make him uncomfortable. I look down and immediately recognize the shoes, the stockings, the fucking whore.
“Come on Kat!” Cecilia cheers and then whistles.
The only thing stopping me from crying is knowing I am making him uncomfortable. His eyes are doing that pleading thing, but this time, I don’t give a damn.
I start,
Closure
“Do you know who you are? All you people out there.
I assume that’s a no, with your I don’t give a fuck, under your five-day scruff, your messy hair.
Check the mirror, check yourself. Who are you today?
A hippie, a non-conformist, a socialist you say?
You snap your fingers ‘cause you’re cool, too good to clap for me?
Not true motherfuckers, I’m cool girl number three.”
I hold up three fingers and smile at my roommates, then look toward Owen and the whore.
“Look around fucking clowns, with your fakeness and lies.
Expect nothing from me. No words or wasteful goodbyes.
The way I see it you simply suck.
Like your lies on the duck.”
I look at the crowd.
“Truth be told I was naïve, but I’m not anymore.
So all you snappers, you cynics, why not go fuck your whore?”
I look back at them and it hits me, if he didn’t send the e-mail, I bet she did. Fucking snatch!
“Turns out I was right to turn it all off for you.
I fucked him, he fucked you, so I fucked you too.
Katherine you whisper, with a shake of your head.
Trying to figure me out is nonsensical, that part is dead.
I’m not Katherine. I’m not yours, never was, so snap that.
My name isn’t Katherine, motherfucker. I am just Kat.”
I drop the mic, hold up both hands and give them all two fingers before walking off stage, through the silenced crowd, to the hallway and out the door.
I look behind me and Josie, and Cecilia are hot on my tail.
I just want to be alone. “Just leave me alone.”
“Kat,” Josie says when she catches up to me. “What can I do to help you?”
“Get me the fuck out of here.”
Cecilia is on my heels. “Tomorrow Kat. We’ll sleep tonight and tomorrow we all go home.”
“Home,” I laugh emotions building to boiling point.
“Yes, home,” she grabs my hand. “No more snapping.”
“No more snapping.” Josie takes my other hand.
My heart is ready to explode and I feel tears rolling down my face.
“What did he do to you?” Josie whispers.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie crossing my fingers.
