by Kars, C. M.
The food arrives, the waitress either ignoring the tension between us or recognizing it and knowing it’s too early in the morning to deal with this shit.
I destroy my eggs and move to my French toast hoping to get out of here quick.
“I still want to take you out.”
I should be flattered, and I am. A part of me is still wondering ‘why me?’ when he can get any girl he wants. “And I’m going to say no.”
I swear, it’s like a steel door has been slammed between us. He moves deeper into his side of the booth, creating more space between us, mouth firming up into a grim line.
“Is it because I’m sick? I can eat anything, anywhere. I can still take you out.”
I frown so hard, it could become permanent. “I don’t care about that. Frak, every hero ever created in the known universe has something wrong with them.” I wave off his concern. “I’m just not what you need right now.”
“What do I need, Sera? Tell me what I need.” His voice is deeper, like the kind of way a man might talk to a woman...in bed. Holy Goblet of Fire!
“You know what you need.” I let the words hang there, watching his blue eyes rumble with a storm in the hue. “You need to take care of yourself. You need help with Matty. I’m offering that help, and you’re gonna take it. You need to regulate your sugars, Hunt.”
He drops his gaze from mine, and it feels like his whole body shuts down at my words, or been replaced by stone. He stabs his steak and eggs, cutting it viciously with fork and knife. “What if you’re what I need?” he says through clenched teeth. Yeah, so the Beast. Does that make me Belle?
“Prove it to me, then. Prove it to me that I’m undeniably who you want.” Fraking hell, did I really just say that? The conviction in my words is plain to hear. I don’t believe he will. I’m never what anybody wants.
Hunter gives me that dimpled smile again, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. “You’ve got a deal.”
I nod absently while returning my attention back to my food. I can’t let myself hope, let myself believe. The words he just spoke – they’re words in my dreams, not here, in real life. God, I’m scared. No one’s ever proclaimed to want me before – I’m lost and confused. I need to talk to Katie. I need some serious help.
***
After we ate, Hunter drove me to work, kissing me on the cheek as goodbye. I tried to play it cool; I did not palm my cheek where he kissed me nor did I stare open mouthed as he unbuckled my seat belt for me, and leaned across my body to open the passenger door. I did not gasp when he called me baby again and told me he would call me that afternoon to arrange for dinner. I did not stumble out of the car and watch him drive away. I swear, I did none of these things.
If I’m not careful, I’m going to be another conquest for Hunter. Frak.
I text Katie when I sit down at my desk:
Please call me at the office when you get this. I really need to talk. Maybe we can meet for lunch? I need your help.
I’m foggy all morning. I can’t concentrate, and end up misfiling documents like a pro. I check my phone every five minutes, going through a roller coaster ride of emotion, hoping for a text, only to plummet into mini episodes of depression when my phone does not dance across the surface of my desk.
My phone vibrates. I hawkeye it to see if it’ll vibrate again. Not Hunter, then.
A text from Katie:
For sure we can do lunch! I’ll come get you for twelve-thirty. We can have sushi! Sushi makes the world a better place. ESPECIALLY if it’s followed with bubble tea. My treat, buddy. See you soon. Xx
I somehow manage to hold on until lunch. I hold on when I get in Katie’s car, smiling a fake one so bright, I’m good for a Colgate Total commercial. We enter our order on the order slip, piling on sushi pizza and a whole bunch of makis at our favourite sushi restaurant.
When Katie’s done with that, she stares at me, dark brown eyes warm and patient. My throat hurts, and my eyes well up. We’re the only ones in here at this time, situated at the back of the restaurant in a secluded booth.
“Oh, Sera. What’s wrong?”
I’m breathing fast, breath hitching as I struggle to mash my lips together and let it stay stuck inside. “There has to be something wrong with me, right? For me to be this age, and like this?” ‘This’ ever only means one thing in our conversations. “I’m... I don’t know what to do.”
“Just tell me what’s wrong, ok? I need to know what’s wrong first,” Katie asks, squeezing my hand.
I nod, sip at my ice cold water. It flares the pain in my throat to a higher pitch. I struggle to breathe through my nose, mortified that my tears are now there for everyone to see.
“I...Frak. Hunter from next door asked me out.”
Katie’s voice is dry when she says, “I’m failing to see the problem here, Delos.”
I nod again, take another drink of water. “I can’t explain it. Why? Why would he want to date me when no one ever has?”
“Not this again. Don’t make me slap you.” She’d do it, too. She waves the waiter over and orders us two sakes. The waiter has eyes only for her. And there it is, whatever deity or the universe or whatever telling me that this is all a cruel joke. That Hunter could never want me in that way.
“You have to say those words. You’re my best friend.”
Katie legit growls at me like a mountain lion, her red nails curling into the edge of the table.
I continue. “He’s so awesome and beautiful and strong, K, and he says he wants to take me out dinner, but he has a kid, and they’re both diabetic, and I’m not what they need.” More tears fall to my cheeks; I hurry to wipe them away.
“Again, how is this a problem? He’s been straight-up. The thing you need to ask him is where this goes after horizontal tango commences. Is there a relationship – if that’s what you want? Everything’s more complicated because of Matty. You guys have to be careful. I just don’t see the problem here.”
“K, he’s going to see me naked. I can’t... I can’t-” I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. There’s so much pressure in my chest, so much of it I just want to scream, and scream for the rest of my life. God, it hurts to so much, thinking of his beautiful, perfect body. “Who would want me? Who ever wants me?”
“You see this knife, Sera?” She holds it up. “I’m going to fucking stab you with it if you keep talking like this. You’ve had shit for family. Fine, I get it. But their words are poison. You can’t let yourself believe them. Don’t you see what it’s doing to you?”
I voice the truth I’ve only ever admitted to myself. “How can they all be wrong? How can so many people be wrong about me when they all say the same fucking thing?”
Katie’s brown eyes are full of tears, too. “Why do you insist on hurting yourself this way? That you’re not good enough because you’re not some skinny bitch?”
“Said skinny bitch is sitting across from me,” I mutter, swiping my napkin across my cheeks faster than the Flash.
Katie scoffs, throwing back the last bit of her water. “Skinny is all relative. It’s not the end-all, be-all of life.”
I shut my eyes. I don’t know how so many years of words from other people, especially those of my family have built this cage over me. I’ve allowed them to keep me down, to restrict me. I gratefully smile at our waiter when the sushi comes out.
Katie does that ear to shoulder thing again, regarding me from a new angle, like she hasn’t seen me in this light before. It makes me nervous.
“You know, I think that if I swung the other way, I’d choose you in a heartbeat.” She smiles when I bark out a laugh.
“Same goes, sistah. Same goes.” I steal a piece of sushi she’s been eyeing. “Thank you for everything,” I sniffle.
“Done with your hysteria? Good. Now tell me everything.” So I tell her everything, in detail. Multiple times. She does the sign of the cross over me and gives me her blessing.“I would do it, but I’m not you. Shit, you’ve got yourself a badass. Tats?” I nod. �
�Six-pack. Miiiiii. My ovaries just exploded.”
I laugh. “I think I’m going to take it slow. I don’t know him, after all.”
“What do you think dating is for, anyway? To get to know the other person. And I’m always here if you need any advice. The guys, too, okay? They’d do anything for you.” Katie nods at me, like this should explain everything. In my misery, I’d forgotten what great friends I have. They can get me through everything. Even when Hunter breaks my heart.
My phone vibrates in my purse. Cursing, I practically shove my whole arm in the thing before I get my prize.
“Hello?” I almost-yell into the phone.
“Hey.” Is this real? This shouldn’t be a surprise. I know Hunter said he would call, but he actually did. Isn’t there supposed to be a game of phone-tag here?“You there?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure am,” I say. Dork. I’m a giant dork. I’m walking home from the metro, staring around at the vibrant colors late spring has brought with it, and even though summer is only two and half weeks away, it feels like bikini weather. Not that I would wear a bikini; unless I want children and grown men to run away from me, screaming. The sun’s beating down its heat on my shoulders – the only reason why I’m suddenly too hot despite the breeze.
“Have you thought about our dinner?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I have.” I trip over a crack in the sidewalk, turn back around and give it a glare before going on my way. I sigh, giving myself over to it. Fine – what’s the worst that could happen? “You’re not gonna turn into a grade-A dick if we have a bad time tonight?”
Hunter chuckles, deep and sexy and I can just picture myself hearing it in the comfort of his bed, his body plastered to mine. Brain, you’re being mean.
“No. I won’t.”
“Excuse me if I’m disinclined to believe you.”
“What?”
I sigh again. “Don’t you watch any movies? This is crucial to understanding me.”
“Then I guess I have a lot of movies to watch.” Oh, I hope he’s smiling on the other end. He might just be. “Now, what do you feel like eating?”
I shrug, forgetting that he can’t see me. “I don’t really care. I could do burgers if that’s easier...”
“Sera, you don’t have dinner for the first time with a woman you want to get to know better at a fucking McDonald’s.” Point: Hunter.
“Jesus, no need to get pissy! I made a fraking suggestion. You choose where you wanna go. Just tell me what to wear.”
Hunter groans. I can almost imagine him swiping a hand over his face. “You’re not playing fair.”
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, even get jostled by other people walking home from the metro station. I start my feet up again, at a slower pace. “What?”
Another seductive laugh from the other end. “You don’t tell a man to think of ways he wants to dress his girl.”
His girl. I’m so screwed. All I manage is a breathy, “Why not?” Then reality sets in. “If you’re going to suggest I wear some sort of leather contraption, I will hurt you.”
“Fucking shit, just stop.” He’s really laughing now, and the sound makes me feel like I can fly. “Wear your favourite shirt with the sayings on them.”
I’m red, burning red, glowing red. How can he think of me in that way? Weirdo. “I can do that.”
“We’ll drop Matty off at my mom’s, then go. Can you be ready for six?”
I glance at my watch; it’s barely past four. I can even take a nap! “Sure thing. And Hunter?”
“Yeah?”
“Never mind. I’ll see you at six.” I was going to ask for Matty to come along. Jesus, I need a four year old for protection, like Hunter’s the big bad wolf.
When I let myself into my apartment, I immediately go to my closet. Pulling out skinny jeans (Freddie Mercury thought fat-bottomed girls were awesome enough to write a song about them), and a tank that has all the names of the kids in The Goonies on it, I’m ready to go.
I’m starving, so I munch on a banana while I grab my clothes and head to the bathroom. I shower, inspect the hair on my legs. Being of Mediterranean descent, I’ve waged a war on my body hair since I turned fourteen. Eleven years later, I hardly have anything left. I do a quick shave – just in case. Not like Hunter is going to see my bare legs without sprinting away in horror.
I slip on my Superman undies – I might just need Kal-El’s strength tonight.
I watch TV for a bit. I doze off for forty five minutes. I rush to get my clothes on since Hunter’s going to be here in three fraking minutes. I nearly stab my mascara wand through my eye while trying to make my eyelashes look amazing. I try and rub out the crease that my pillow case left behind on my face without much progress. I wonder if I should wear heels – but what if I need to run away when he turns out to be a psycho?
I’ve just finished tying up my Justice League Chuck Taylors when the heavy knock comes. I grab my glasses, purse, phone, a sweater and keys. Doing all this at the same time, I walk out of my apartment, my nose on a collision course with Hunter’s hard pectoral.
My nose stings, the cartilage cracking with the stress. Tears well up in my eyes, the pain radiating out to my cheekbones. Jesus, it feels like I got a soccer ball right in the kisser.
“Fuck. Sorry, Sera.” Hunter’s big hands grab my shoulders, cupping them in his warm hands. Shoulda opted for the heels and the increased height. Then again, snapping my ankle because of a mistaken step doesn’t sound like a lot of fun either.
“Bad word, bad word!” Matty bounces at Hunt’s feet, jumping in circles like he’s pretending to be the rotating Earth. Sugar high much? “I get a quarter!”
When Matty stops jumping around long enough to hug my leg, I push the hair back off his forehead, feeling the dampness of sweat along his scalp. I frown at Hunter.
He shrugs, looking sheepish. “He’s been all over the map today. Up, down, up and down again. His body’s strung out. I’m hoping Mom can get some decent food in him, and he can sleep it off. She’ll take care of him tonight.”
There may be something there, some sort of unease that Hunter has about leaving his kid at his Mom’s. Whatever. Definitely not first date conversation. My first date ever!
“Ready to go, little buddy?” I ask Matty, keeping my eyes off Hunter. I haven’t even registered what he’s wearing. I don’t want to. In the rush of getting dressed, I haven’t been nervous. Now, my bladder’s being an asshole again, set to bursting. The tank’s too hot for me; I should be running around in a bikini to regulate my body temperature.
“Where are you and Daddy going?” I look up at Hunter, study his profile as we walk into the elevator. Anatomically speaking, guys have this brooding forehead thing, like the bone just above their eyebrows, center of their foreheads juts out. Good nose. Nice cheekbones, no pierced ears or neck tats. He’s a secret badass. I like that.
I don’t know what to tell Matty – joke around? Lie? I’ve known him for such a short time and I’m going to be lying to him. This whole dating Hunter thing just got a thousand times more complicated.
“We’re going to eat with grown-ups tonight, Matty. Kids gotta stay home.”
“Awww, man. Really, Daddy? What if I dress up, and no one can recognize me?” Recognize comes out as recon-nice. Adorable.
Hunter shakes his head no, and puts a hand around my waist.
Red alert, red alert! Houston, we are going to DEFCON 1. I prance away from him, into the infamous corner. Hunter’s eyes get lazy, go half-closed; I swallow hard, and look everywhere but at him.
Matty’s buzzing in front of me, bouncing on the balls of his feet, that tuft of hair going up and down, up and down at the back of his head, humming along to a song I don’t know. My stomach twists, fire burning up my throat – he’s high on sugar. To most kids, they’ll crash in ten minutes, be sluggish and lazy as their insulin deals with the sugar overload in their systems.
To Matty – it can be deadly.
I want to hit somet
hing. I want to punch the wall until my knuckles bleed. All of it, Hunter and Matty being diabetic... it just fraking sucks big time. My right fist gets covered with Hunter’s giant paws. When I look up at him, he gives me a slight shake of his head, a sad smile in the corner of his mouth. He smoothes out my fingers, making them curl out until we’re palm to palm, and he tugs me closer, lacing our fingers together.
I’ve never held a guy’s hand before. I like it a lot. I should just permanently attach myself to his hand. Warm and strong. He grazes my Batman ring and smirks at me. Once a nerd, always a nerd.
As I watch Matty and worry, Hunter keeps holding my hand.
“Don’t worry, Sera,” he says, voice close to my ear. “He’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“How do you know that?” I mutter, watching Matty jump around, stomach squirming with worms of worry.
Hunter squeezes my hand. “Because this isn’t new for him. This happens a lot. And he gets through it. Every single time.”
I can only nod.
Hunter straps Matty into the car seat after settling me into the passenger’s side. I turn to look back at Matty who gives me a wave like he hasn’t seen me in two days. I find myself smiling, trying to ignore the glassy-eyed look on the kid’s face, or the flushed cheeks.
I don’t pay attention to the trip over to Hunt’s mom’s house. When he pulls up in front of Montreal’s equivalent to a mansion I nearly swallow my tongue. I become acutely aware that I’m wearing Converse and not Louboutins, a badass nerdy tank that I bought for twenty bucks, and jeans from Old Navy. My entire outfit cost about enough to pay for one brick in the northeast corner of this palace that Hunter grew up in. Well fraking shit.
I get out of the car and go back to undo Matty’s car seat. Fishing a bottle of water from my purse, you never know when you’ll be dying of thirst, I give it to him, pulling at the NASA sanctioned straps and belts guaranteed to keep him in place if we ever get into an accident.
The poor kid finishes the whole thing, sucking it back like its air with enough gusto, he misses half his mouth and some gets on his t-shirt. Whatever. When he’s done, he looks up at me, guilty.
