by Vivian Wood
I feel a rush of nausea, suddenly, just thinking of all the wine we’ve snuck over the last few weeks.
I’m already the worst Mum imaginable, and I only just found out.
“You feeling alright, Kitty?” Rex gives me a look.
“Just… you know, worried. About graduation,” I blurt out.
I look around Rex’s room, at his collection of expensive guitars, at the posters of rock bands on his wall. Lately he’s been telling people he’s going to give up his future place in the monarchy, become a serious musician instead.
The new Thom Yorke, I believe I heard him say to his cousin Bram.
I sit down on the bed, careful to stay a safe distance from Rex.
Too late for that, honey, a nasty little voice in the back of my head tells me. Wayyyyy too late.
I bite my lip, wondering how the heck I’m supposed to talk to him about something this… huge. This is going to change both our lives, forever.
Part of me wonders… I mean, maybe it will be fine. Rex and I will have to get married, yeah, but… that’d be okay. We love each other.
Part of me knows that I’m being beyond naive.
The Savilles are in disgrace. The pregnancy is out of wedlock. We’re teenagers, not old enough for something this monumental.
“Hey,” Rex says, setting the wine bottle aside. “What’s up, Kit?”
I purse my lips and look at him, unsure how to start.
“What, um… what are you thinking is going to happen next year?” I ask, looking down at the bed as I trace a figure eight on the down comforter with my fingertip.
“What do you mean?” Rex shrugs. “We go to uni, duh.”
“Yeah, but what else?” I ask.
Please, please tell me something that will make me feel better, I beg silently.
“Well, me and Bram talked about starting a band, you know. If we both go to Royal College,” Rex says, laying back on the bed. “And I drew this wicked design yesterday for a tattoo…”
As he tells me about the drawing, my heart sinks.
“I mean, what about us?” I ask, cutting him off. “Like, you and me, together.”
“Oh, Kit…” he sighs. “I mean, I figure we just play it cool for a while. Even if we go to the same uni, we can’t like… tell people that we’re dating. My dad would have a fucking stroke, wouldn’t he?”
He chuckles. I look away so he can’t see the tears that are starting to fill my eyes. Rex isn’t fooled, though.
He sits up and grabs me by the waist, hauling me onto his lap while he nuzzles my neck.
“You worry too much, Kitty. The future is far off. We’ve got a lot of time to figure it out. In the meantime…”
His gentle nuzzling turns into a series of soft kisses. My traitorous body starts to respond, despite my emotional turmoil.
It’s always like that with Rex.
“Wait…” I say, pulling away.
“Come on, Kitten,” he says, giving me that dashing grin of his. “Have you forgotten who your secret boyfriend is? They don’t call me Prince Magnum for nothing…”
He grabs my hand and brings it down to his… hardness… and I snatch my hand back.
“Quit!” I yelp.
“Oh, are you really mad about this next year thing? You need to relax about that, Kitten. We have bigger things to worry about.”
He has no idea how right he is.
I brush away a tear and shake my head at him. It must be nice to live the charmed life, Rex Westwood.
“Let’s just go to sleep, okay? I have to sneak out super early,” I say.
Rex rolls his eyes and shrugs.
“Suit yourself,” he says, then he gets this goofy grin on his face. “I’d think you’d be nicer to me, knowing that we’re about to go off to uni. I’m going to meet loads of hot girls there, you know. Bet they won’t need so much beauty sleep.”
Somehow, I don’t scream at him. Somehow, I don’t burst into tears.
I just kind of go to that same place that I went when I found my dad’s body. A numb place, where it’s just… easier.
I lie down next to Rex, not even bothering to get under the comforter with him. I’m not planning on staying long.
This conversation has clarified a lot of things for me. Rex isn’t ready for this. I’m not either, but I don’t have a choice.
When it comes down to the basic facts, I love Rex like crazy… but I can’t trust him to have my back when this scandal breaks. Not in the face of his father. Or his grandparents. There’s no way he can protect me from their wrath.
I lie there in wait until Rex’s breathing is even and quiet. I sit up and look at him for a second, at his sheer gorgeousness. I want so badly to kiss him, just once more, but I don’t.
Instead I get up and grab my backpack, take the pregnancy test from the bathroom trash, and slip out onto the balcony. I climb into the tree and scuttle down it, all the time wondering…
What if I just fell… and this whole thing went away?
I feel ashamed of myself.
I manage to get a few blocks from the Westwoods’ house before I really start crying. I get on the tube and ride it home, and no one even stops to ask why an eighteen year old girl is sobbing her brains out in the middle of the night.
By the time I get home, I’m pretty cried out. Not that it matters; Mum’s not here. She’s at a rejuvenation spa or some such thing, I’m not exactly sure where.
Throwing myself on my bed is the only good thing I’ve felt all night. I lie there and wallow for hours, my mind whirring uselessly.
What am I going to do?
I can’t… get rid of it. I won’t. It’s mine and Rex’s, no matter what.
He can’t know about it, though.
No one can know about it.
How the heck am I going to pull that off?
God, if Mum finds out, she might make me get rid of it. Or she’d take it, like some bad Lifetime movie.
I can’t see any solution. There’s literally nowhere in Courtland that I can think of where no one will know my name, where no one will find out.
Wait…
I sit straight up in bed.
Nowhere in Courtland…
I scramble to get out of bed and pad over to my desk, flipping the desk lamp on.
There, on top of my laptop, is the stack of university acceptance letters I’ve gotten so far. For a lark, I applied to as many colleges as I could. More for bragging rights against my friends than anything else.
Sitting on top is my admission to Royal College. I’ve already filled out and signed the form accepting a spot there, but I haven’t mailed it out yet.
Waiting for Mum to get home and procure me some stamps, being silly.
I shuffle the stack. At the bottom are a handful of American universities.
I flip through a few, all recognizable as Ivy League schools. I haven’t even seen most of these places, but there’s one that I did visit on my trip to the States a few years ago.
“Where is it… where is it?” I mutter.
There, the last one in the stack.
“Brown University,” I say aloud, testing it out. “I go to Brown University. I’m Katherine, I go to Brown.”
I bite my lip. It seems drastic, but…
I could start over.
No matter what I decide, no one would know about the baby. Except I’d need to leave right away, not wait till the end of summer like everyone else.
I open my laptop and go to the Brown University website. I look around for a minute before I find what I need to see.
Ready For An Early Start? Begin Your Freshman Year Early, Take Summer Courses!
It’s almost too perfect. And no one will question it. My dad just died, Mum’s gone bonkers, it’s only natural that I would want to escape. Any normal teenager would do the dramatic thing, right?
I open a new email window.
to: [email protected]
from: [email protected]
; RE: Admission
I’d like to formally accept my place at your prestigious university. I would also like to enroll in your early summer courses. Please call me as soon as possible to make all the necessary arrangements.
Sincerely,
Katherine Saville
I attach my phone number and then hit send before I can lose my nerve.
A way out. I’m saved, maybe.
I collapse onto my bed, wondering if I’m going to rock any boats.
Mum’s going to be flustered, at first. Truthfully, though, I think she’ll be relieved to have time alone to grieve and… work stuff out, whatever.
Dad’s gone.
And Rex…
Well, Rex is like a cat. He always lands on his feet, nothing ever seems to hurt him or even weigh him down. He’s going to be way better off without me, I’m certain of it.
In a way, I’m keeping the burden off his shoulders, I tell myself.
I close my eyes and finally start to drift. I need some sleep, for sure.
Tomorrow I start packing for my move to the States.
9
Kit
“Wait… are you firing me?” I whisper into the phone, shocked.
Silence for a few seconds while Isaac tries to formulate an answer.
“I wouldn’t think of it that way, Katherine,” he sighs, sounding more Italian than ever. “It’s just… if I can be honest with you, we loved your designs. Still love them. But I’m a lowly fashion director, not a brand owner. The owners got a call from some high-ups in Courtland…”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hiss.
“Alas, no. Someone wants you keeping a low profile, and launching a personal fashion line apparently does not fit into their vision for you.” He pauses. “I am very sorry, Katherine. Please come back to us when all this unpleasantness has cleared up, no? Your designs are quite promising…”
I sigh and thank him before hanging up.
Great. Grounded and fired. Perfect.
Gritting my teeth, I toss my phone on the bed and sprawl out on my mattress.
This move back to Courtland has been nothing less than a disaster. I pick up the tabloid lying next to me on the bed.
Scandal!!! Lady Katherine’s Ex Tells ALL!!!
I hurl it across the room, scattering pages everywhere. Not only is Charles a fucking cheating douchebag, not only is he blackmailing me for money I can’t just summon without a reason… he’s also whispering lies to the paparazzi, for cash.
It’s a little funny, really. I dated Charles because he was the safe, practical choice. He kept my secrets, he stood by me and didn’t shame me.
And yet… now, this. It’s not like it could have come about overnight, either. I must have overlooked a ton of stuff over the years, eager to care for and confide in someone, anyone.
Eager to replace Rex, too, if I’m honest.
My phone beeps. It’s an email from the lawyer that manages my father’s estate and my trust, what little’s left of it.
Katherine, I regret to inform you…
I don’t bother to read the rest. He can’t get me the money that Charles is demanding in exchange for his silence. 50,000 USD to send him back to the States for good.
Or else… he tells everyone exactly how we met. Not in an English lit seminar or whatever crap we’ve been telling people all this time.
I sit up, feeling restless. Moping is useless. Blaming my past self is useless. I need to move around, do something interesting.
I hear the sound of keys hitting a hard surface.
Rex is home, presumably. I haven’t seen him in days, not the day since I walked away from him after he… touched me.
He’s pissed at me, but… he doesn’t understand.
Why we need to be apart. Why we can’t ever, ever sleep together again.
I let lust rule me before, when we were together. It almost ruined me, ended up making me want to die.
I couldn’t get out of bed for a month. I almost failed out of Brown. If it wasn’t for Charles, I certainly would have.
So why do I take my hair down from its bun and slink into the living room, looking for Rex to entertain me?
Foolish, I tell myself, but I’m going stir crazy.
I have to talk to someone, even if it’s someone I’m keeping a lot of secrets from…
“Hey,” I say when Rex emerges from his room, changed from his business attire into a tight emerald green t-shirt and low slung dark jeans.
“Hey,” he says cautiously.
He’s barefoot, which for some reason turns me on. Well, everything turns me on lately, but that especially.
Rex eyes me with suspicion, but he also looks just plain worn out.
“Rough day at the office?” I ask.
“You could say that. It’s been a difficult week,” he says.
“So… you got some kind of alcohol in this place, or what?” I ask.
He stares at me for a second, then a dimple flashes in his cheek. For some reason, he finds me amusing.
“None of the hard stuff, but I’ve got quite a selection of wine,” he says.
“I’m not picky,” I say. “I just want to sit on the balcony and watch the sun go down, maybe drink too much wine.”
Rex laughs and walks into the kitchen, opening a cabinet. I haven’t inspected the kitchen much, since I don’t really cook. Especially when I’m by myself here, I just order in sushi from a place around the corner.
The cabinet has been retrofitted with a wine rack, and it’s chock full of wine.
“Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rex asks, pulling out a couple bottles to see the choices. “Or… I have a good 2008 sparkling Shiraz.”
“Fancy,” I say, impressed. “Let’s have the Shiraz, then.”
“There’s an ice bucket on the counter,” he says, pointing it out. “If you get it set up outside with some ice, I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”
I fill the bucket as he roots around in a high kitchen cabinet.
“Aha!” he says, producing two stemless champagne flutes. “You know, in case we have so much wine as to become inelegant.”
I giggle. His British-influenced Courtland accent is particularly thick when he’s being silly. My accent flattened after five years in the States, but spending so much time around Rex is bringing it back to life.
We settle on his huge balcony, pulling our lounge chairs up so we can kick our feet up on the railing. Rex puts the wine on to chill, and soon we’re sipping cool sparkling red wine and watching the sun sink below the horizon.
“So?” I ask. “Why was your day so terrible?”
Rex pulls a face. “One of the board members is out for blood. I made some specific promises to them regarding my appearance in the press, and…”
He waves a hand.
“Wait, are you in trouble because of the other night at the club?” I ask.
He shrugs, which I take as a yes. I mull that over, and we’re both quiet for a minute.
“How did the track come about?” I ask. “It didn’t exist when I moved away, I’m pretty sure.”
Rex nods.
“We built it, myself and the trustees.”
“Is it lucrative? It seems like it would be.”
“Well, I won’t turn a profit for five years,” he explains. “We pay off our construction loans, which we’ve nearly done, and then my share of the take goes to charity.”
“Really?” I eye him. “What charity?”
His lips thin for a moment.
“When Asher died… well, before he died, he was hospitalized for a bit. He was brain dead, but the paramedics got his heart started, and they kept him alive for a couple days.” He sips his wine, staring off into the night sky. “There were a ton of medical bills. His parents wouldn’t take any money from me, they wouldn’t even speak to me. I kept thinking how unfair it was, that… all of that happened. They lost their son, and they were still stuck with this huge bill.”
“So you’re paying peop
le’s medical bills?” I asked, trying to understand.
“Not me, no. We’re funding a charity that works with the victims of pedestrian hit-and-runs. You know, no one takes the blame, so there’s no insurance to pay their bills.”
I nod, but a question burns in my mind.
“Why did his parents refuse to take money from you?” I ask. “That seems ridiculous.”
Rex actually flinches at my question.
“Well… Asher didn’t die in a normal car accident, you know.”
I glance at him, surprised. “What? What do you mean?”
“We were drag racing. Totally illegal, beyond stupid.” He pauses, wavering. “Asher didn’t think it was a good idea, but I kept telling how amazing it felt, the adrenaline rush, the feeling of taking a car’s ownership papers from some unlucky bloke…”
“You were drag racing?” I ask, stunned. “Rex, that’s awful. It’s so dangerous!”
“I don’t think you have to tell me that, do you?” he asked.
I flush. “Of course not, no.”
He glances at me, then tips up his wine glass before pouring himself another.
“Yeah, well. I basically talked Asher into it. I even got in the car with him as a passenger, to prove that it wasn’t a big deal. Then he spun out on a sharp turn, slammed into a telephone pole, and that was it. Game over.”
“Rex, I had no idea,” I say, laying my hand on his arm.
What am I supposed to say? I was thousands of miles away.
“Yeah, well. You weren’t here,” he says, echoing my thoughts perfectly.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He looks at me, then looks away. I can see a tic pulsing in his jaw; he’s holding something back from me.
Well, it’s mutual, then. We both have a right to our secrets, I suppose.
“You’re angry with me,” I say.
“It was a long time ago. Let’s just drop it.”
Oh yeah, he’s still mad.
“Sometimes people have to make the best decision for themselves, make sure they’re taking care of their own futures,” I say, setting my wine glass down.
“Is that why you left my bed in the middle of the night and never spoke to me again?” he bites off.
