Six
Lover Not a Fighter
Bryan was quiet as they left. A sort of concerning quiet that didn’t sit well with Kate. It was the loud sort of quiet. The parking lot was dark, empty, and the streetlights let out a pale dim glow. Kate could see a handful of cars. None as big or obnoxious as Bryan’s, of course. But a few were there, sitting idle.
Kate’s head was still buzzing. She’d had a couple of drinks. Her inhibitions were still lowered and her limbs still felt slightly disconnected from her body. She wasn’t swaying by any means. She was just … tipsy. She felt light. Weightless. As if she didn’t have a care in the world. But even tipsy she could tell it wouldn’t last. She was waiting for the dam to break.
A sort of tense, coiled, energy radiated off Bryan like heat from the sun. You couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t miss it.
Kate wasn’t going to mention it, though. That would be as clever an idea as poking a bear. One with a sore tooth. He’d come to her in his own time. Bryan wasn’t the sort to hold a grudge. He’d understand, right? It wasn’t her fault Emily had kissed her. She couldn’t help she was just so kissable. It wasn’t like that was a crime. Not the last time she’d checked it wasn’t.
Kate and Bryan reached his car. Tension hung between them still. Kate bit her lip. It was coming. She could tell.
Bryan walked over to the driver’s side of the car. He stopped. Stood for a moment. Leaned against the car, hand lingering around the car door handle but not opening it. His hair hung in loose floppy curls around his ears. And even they seemed flat. Listless.
Kate pulled at the passenger side door. Nothing. It wouldn’t budge.
‘We’re you ever going to tell me?’ There it was. The flood gates had opened. The ball was in Kate’s court.
Kate thought about it. Would she have told him? She didn’t think so. Not for a long while, at least. She would have happily not said anything at all. She felt bad about the situation, sure. But it wasn’t a crippling feeling by any stretch of the imagination. She didn’t feel bad that she’d kissed Emily. Not really, anyway. She’d felt guilty about the kiss the same way she did as when she and Jenny split a chocolate cake Christmas morning. Had it been the best idea? No. But had it been worth it? Yeah, she thought it had. Would she do it again? In a heartbeat.
She wasn’t wasn’t what one might consider a repentant sinner.
Kate knew when her answer dawned on Bryan. She hadn’t needed to say the words out loud. Her silence had given him his answer perhaps better than words would ever be able.
‘You weren’t going to, were you?’ He didn’t want her answer. His disbelief was plain. He scoffed. ‘I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me.’
‘Can’t you, though?’ She couldn’t bite her tongue. Her comment had the same affect as fuel had on a fire.
Bryan cheeks puffed up angrily like a blow fish. He stomped around his car like a big angry turkey that had just found out why at it ate so well before Thanksgiving. His arms were crossed. His back straight. He stared down at Kate angry and betrayed.
She did feel a little bad, then. Just a tad. Just bad enough for her stomach to turn slightly with guilt.
‘How could you?’ His frown grew.‘I told you I liked her.’
He’s like a toddler, thought Kate. And just like that she didn’t feel guilty at all anymore. Kate didn’t like conflict. Loathed it. She’d avoid it at all cost. Which wasn’t particularly healthy but that was what she was comfortable with. But not tonight. Emily wasn’t an object. And she didn’t owe Bryan anything.
‘And did you tell her that? Because she kissed me.’ Kate leaned against the car. She stared past Bryan and looked at a streetlight. The light flickered. It seemed to Kate that it’s bulb would blow any second. Or maybe she was just projecting? Who knew. She certainly didn’t.
‘But you kissed her back! You didn’t have to. I wouldn’t have kissed someone you were into. ’ He said it like he was judge and jury and she had just committed treason. ‘It’s a shitty thing to do.’
‘What do you want me say? Maybe I wasn’t going to tell you but I’m entitled to privacy. Who I kiss is none of your business. But clearly you’re a better person than me.’ Kate starred at her feet. She didn’t want to think about how she’d feel if the shoe were on the other foot. ‘Just open the car. Jesus, I’m not arguing with you in the middle of the car park.’
‘Clearly.’ He unlocked the car door. ‘And there’s nothing you can say that’d make it better.’ Bryan marched back to the driver’s side, got in the car, put the keys in the ignition and waited impatiently for Kate to follow suit, tapping his foot loudly and not once looking over at her. The two of them sat in angry silence, each convinced they were in the right and too stubborn to talk to the other, for the thirty minute drive back to the college dorms.
Seven
The Ex
Whatever it was Kate was watching play out she knew this: it was Grade A drama. Spending the day alone with Emily was not a good idea. It wasn’t close to one. And Kate knew that because on the odd occasion, when the weather was just right, and the full moon was out, she had good ideas. They were rare. But not rare enough that she didn’t know what the opposite looked like. And this was it.
Jesus Girl, as Kate had taken to calling her in her head, when Emily was reticent to give a name, was not what Kate expected. Kate had built her up into this figure. This idea of something unattainable and pretty and utterly, utterly, the polar opposite of Kate. She was not. Where Kate had expected to see some pretty feminine blonde girl she found only a dour brunette with freckles and large broad shoulders.
Well, shit. And there, stood on her porch, was Emily, silent as Kate had ever seen her.
This is what happens, thought Kate glumly, when you don’t listen to that little voice in your head that tries to stop you doing stupid shit. The silence stretched on and Kate just stood there, in Emily’s doorway, lingering and silent with no real purpose. She felt even more out of place now than she had that morning Emily had found her in Bryan’s room. She felt like an intruder. And it bothered her more than she cared to admit.
But it didn’t bother her enough to leave. Maybe, though Kate would never admit it, she wanted to know what was going to happen. What would be said. She couldn’t stand the not-knowing of it all. She knew it would drive her mad. And she couldn’t handle that. So, if she had to watch the train wreck unfold she would. At least, that way, she might be of some use to Emily. Support her, maybe. Instead of just sitting there on Emily’s sofa waiting, and leaving her to face her demons all by herself. And if it wasn’t an entirely selfless act, well, what was?
‘Sarah.’ Emily’s voice was barely a whisper but Kate heard it all the same. Sarah. It was good, she thought, to face to the figure she’d built up in her head.
Sarah didn’t look at Kate. Didn’t so much as acknowledge her. And neither did Emily. Kate’s pride reared its head in indigent anger. But she shoved it down.
‘I brought you something,’ said Sarah. Even her voice was different to how Kate
imagined it. And why, or when, wondered Kate, did I start spending so much time thinking about you, Emily? About who it was that could break your heart?
Sarah was all jagged edges and awkward movements when she pulled out a bracelet. One of those delicate bands made of charms and silver. She held it out the Emily with a guarded gaze and Kate could see how hard she bit down on her teeth.
So, thought Kate, this is what trying looks like.
Emily softened. Kate could see it happen in real time. Her shoulders relaxed and some of the tension she’d been carrying when she opened the door bled out of her. Could see it in the way she unclenched her hands.
‘Thanks,’ said Emily. She took the bracelet from Sarah and held it in her palm. Kate couldn’t see what charms decorated the thin the thin silver band. Didn’t think she wanted to. They must’ve meant something because Emily smiled then, as she looked at the charms in her open palm. She
looked at the for what felt like the longest time to Kate, till eventually, she closed her palm around them delicately and made a gentle fist.
Sarah shuffled, and a part of Kate was glad to know it wasn’t just her that felt the awkward tension in the air. Emily seemed to remember Kate then. She looked back at Kate and seemed to make up her mind about something.
‘Do you want to come in?’ asked Emily tentatively. ‘I’ve got that tea you like, still, and it’s going to waste here.’
And fuck it if Sarah didn’t relax too. It was only Kate who got more nervous and disconcerted as the exchange continued. And she knew she had no right to be. No reason to be. But she wasn’t hurting anyone with her feelings. And she couldn’t do anything with them. Couldn’t do anything about them. They were just there — festering.
She wasn’t exactly proud of herself in that moment but that was something to dissect and mull over later.
‘I’d like that.’ Sarah smiled and followed Emily inside the house past Kate. But as they walked Emily touched Kate on the shoulder and she followed them in.
And so Emily made tea whilst Kate and Sarah stood at opposite ends of her kitchen counter watching her. And if Kate caught Sarah staring at her she tried to ignore it. Till she couldn’t.
‘Kate.’ She tried to play it off as casual when she caught Sarah’s eye. Figured she’d introduce herself.
‘Sarah.’
‘You’ve got good taste in tea,’ said Kate because she was the queen of social interactions. She said it as if she didn’t hate the brand. As if it wasn’t going to take a while for her to drink that brand again.
And sure, maybe it was petty. But she was. And she knew herself. But she didn’t know whatever it was that was going on between Emily and Sarah. It felt like a hundred scenes of play that all had played out before that she wasn’t a part of. As if she was the only one without a playbill.
Emily made Kate a cup too. And she was going to drink every drop, even if she hated the brand, just because Emily had made it The cup was delicate and small with flowers and gold. She took a sip and found she didn’t mind it. The milk and sugar helped, no doubt.
Kate sunk into the sofa, at the furthest end away from the other two, and watched.
It was as if time had reset and had erased all of Emily’s hurt. Kate didn’t know how to feel about that. She felt, she thought, angry on Emily’s behalf. Protective. And confused because how could Emily have forgotten old hurts over a bracelet? Kate had seen her seen her hurt. Had seen her lost and alone in bath tub, adrift, over the loss of Sarah. She didn’t want that for her. Emily deserved more – so much more. But that wasn’t up to Kate. She would follow Emily’s lead. If this was what she needed – how she wanted to go forward – then that was fine with Kate.
Kate finished her cup of tea. And excused herself quietly. Emily followed her to the door but Sarah felt no need.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Emily, leaning against the door.
‘Home,’ said Kate. She smiled at Emily. There were no hard feelings. But Emily didn’t need her here for this. And frankly, the more selfish part of Kate, didn’t want to be here for this. She didn’t want to have to watch. And she knew that was wrong of her. But, well, she would deal with it all later. She just needed to get out. She needed to clear her head.
Eight
Sex, Tea and Crappy TV
Summer rain was strange. It was the last thing one would expect. Common sense would say that was the weather for you in all it’s wacky glory. But Kate had other ideas. For her she put it down to one thing: bad luck. And she had the worst luck. The absolute worst. There could be no person with worse luck – and, alright, sure, she knew that wasn’t even remotely true, but she was miserable and cold and if she looked even a little bit like how she felt, well then, she must’ve looked miserable.
She’d never looked worse. And that was saying something. Iuan – because he was a vindictive bastard who horded bad photos as if they were nuclear weapons – and Jenny – who genuinely just didn’t understand the concept of a bad photo because bad photos were something that happened to other people – had the nuclear arsenal of bad photos of Kate. She shuddered just thinking about it. There was a particularly bad photo that came to mind. A particularly unflattering photo after a particularly rough night.
Kate clutched her bag closer to her chest. She should’ve taken Iuan’s umbrella even that small useless thing would’ve helped right now. She was nearly there. It wouldn’t be far to Emily’s house which was a small consolation. She couldn’t wait to get somewhere warm and dry.
But she could wait for Emily to see her like this. Fuck. This would be one way to make an impression. Kate could feel the wet strands of her hair stick to her head. If she looked bald it was over. She would turn straight back around and walk tot the nearest bus stop and wait. Or, maybe, she’d ring Iuan to come get her. He owed her more than one favor. And he loved Kate’s car – loved driving it. But that was being an international student for you – it didn’t make much sense to buy a car unless you were going to use it. And Iuan never left the dorms or the college. He was study obsessed. And, really, made Kate look rather relaxed which was a bonus.
When the rain had slowed to a drizzle – because the rain had a wicked sense of humor – Kate found herself at Emily’s house. She found herself stood on her front porch in front of, unsurprisingly, the front door. Shit. She hadn’t thought this through at all. And, frankly, she’d never found a door intimidating – till now. This particular door loomed over her threateningly, and dripping and wet and cold as she was, Kate was more than a little tempted to just leave. Or too continue just standing there. Those were two options she was comfortable with. They were safe. Knocking felt wrong. It felt too real. Too different and strange and altogether anxiety invoking.
Vaguely, as she stared unblinkingly at the door, Kate noticed the light from inside the house escape through the blinds. Emily was home. Kate knew that. There wouldn’t be much point in her coming here if she wasn’t. Yet somehow seeing proof of life – physical, tangible proof – made it more real. More real than a text could. She was close now.
Kate hated her lack of sense. If she had sense she would’ve thought things through. If she had even an iota of sense she wouldn’t have answered Emily’s text so quickly, and if she had more than an iota of sense, she most definitely wouldn’t have jumped at the invite. But, well, Kate had never prided herself on her impulse control. And she had never really regretted that before. Till now.
Kate pulled herself together, mentally, that is. There wasn’t much she could do about her appearance, not yet anyway.
She rang the doorbell. There was silence for a minute at least. Then, when just enough time had passed to make her feel antsy, she heard the dull sound of footsteps approach the door.
Kate tried to look cool and collected. Really, she did. But, well, that was more than a lost cause. How she’d be able to manage that was anyone guess. She certainly didn’t know. But it was still worth a shot. It wasn’t like it would do any harm. And, well, stranger things had happened.
And, when Emily did finally open the door, all she could do was gape at Kate’s sopping wet form. So much for being cool. She just stared. And, well, wasn’t that just stellar, thought Kate miserably.
‘Get in here,’ said Emily as she pulled Kate inside by the arm. She slammed the door shut. ‘You’re all wet.’
‘Sorry about the mess,’ muttered Kate. ‘But the weather—’
‘You must be freezing.’ Emily looked her up and downed once or twice till her eyes settled on Kate’s hands. The hands she had been rubbing together without her realizing. Nervously rubbing them together. Though, in her defense, that could’ve also just been from the cold. God, she hoped Emily thought it was from the cold.
‘Not to be a bother, or anything,’ began Kate hesitantly, ‘but could I, maybe, borrow some clothes? Because, if I’m being completely honest, I can’t feel my fingers right now and pneumonia or whateve
r it is I’m going to catch if I say like this much longer isn’t going to be a good look on me.’ And for good measure, and because her mother raised her right, she added as just slightly more than an afterthought, ‘Please?’
‘Right. Of course.’ Emily grabbed her for the second time that night and dragged her in through the house towards what Kate would discover was a very nice bathroom. Which, now that she thought about it, was becoming a trend for them. And she didn’t mind either. Kate looked over her shoulder and couldn’t help but wince at the trail of wet footsteps she left in her wake. At least, she thought glumly, there was tile – it’d make the cleanup easier.
‘I’ll bring you some of my stuff.’ Emily smiled at Kate as she ushered her further into the bathroom. ‘It might be a bit tight, on the shoulders, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.’
And just like that she was gone. Kate was alone. Again. But at least the bathroom was nicer than the porch. Much nicer. But before Kate could snoop, admire, really, her current state caught up to her. She shivered, and her teeth chattered, and her hands were the most morbid shade of purple that she’d ever seen. Positively corpse like. Right. Priorities. There would be time for snooping late. She had bigger fish to fry. And because unnecessary discomfort had never been high on her list of things she enjoyed Kate made quick work of her clothes till she was left standing in only her underwear.
Kate grimaced. Not even that had survived the rain unscathed. It wasn’t soaked, though, and she could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was her hair. Dark strands clung to her face and neck, and much to Kate’s horror, it looked as if she had used too much gel. Mirrors were overrated. She may as well have been balding. It couldn’t get any worse—
And that was when Emily returned from her clothes hunting expedition and entered the bathroom without so much as a knock. Which in all fairness to Emily she really didn’t have to – it was her bathroom, after all. But in that moment Kate really didn’t want to be fair. She wanted to blame her for something – anything.
More Than Friends Page 7
