Black and White

by Ludivig, K. R.

  “Yeah.” As I left the room, I could still feel Ella’s eyes on me.

  That night, after supper, Zack and I went to a movie, his treat. I came into the dorm late and Ella and I talked before dozing off to sleep.

  “Hey Katie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry about the way I acted this afternoon, are we okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like, you’re not creeped out?”

  “Nope, we’re fine,” I laughed.

  “Really?” she asked.

  I just nodded and turned over in my bed.

  That Friday, two days after the incident with Ella, Zack took me to a party. It was a party in Detroit. I dressed in my cutest jean skirt and Gucci shoes, and a white tube top that showed off my tan upper body. I wore a silver bracelet. The entire time we were out there, I was scared of getting shot.

  “Katie, relax.”

  I held his hand though I had no remote interest in him. He parked his Mercedes in front of the house party. Zack talked to various people I did not know, and honestly didn’t want to know. Zack went to grab us a drink. I scanned the room for people I could talk to just for company. I saw the boy I’d seen in my Bentley. He was wearing a gray DC sweatshirt and khaki pants. He was looking at me. I smiled.

  “Hi,” Someone said behind me. I jumped, afraid for my life.

  “Sorry to scare you,” she said.

  “That’s OK,” She seemed nice enough.

  “So you’re Zack’s date huh?”

  “Unfortunately,” I moaned.

  “Oh,” she just walked away, displeased. It wasn’t as if I wanted to date the kid. He was just a suitor. No one knew that.

  “Here Katie,” said Zack popping up beside me, handing me a drink.

  “As in Katie White?” said the girl who had spoken to me before.

  I nodded unsure if I should admit my name.

  She frowned and turned to walk away.

  “What’s wrong? Am I not good enough?” Zack appeared next to me, handing me a plastic red cup.

  “That’s just the problem Katie, you are. They’re jealous of you because of what they don’t have.”

  I took my first sip of the drink he handed me five minutes previously. It tasted so strongly of alcohol that I almost spit it back into the cup.

  “How much whiskey did you put in here?”

  “A lot,” he said. “At least you know your liquor.”

  I had never really drank before but my dad loved whiskey. Jack Daniels and Jim Beam were his two favorites. After two glasses I was almost out cold and Zack was nowhere to be found.

  Could this really be possible? Could it be possibly possible that the gods somewhere dropped this angel at my feet?

  “Are you OK?” I asked. She was sprawled out on the couch, drunk.

  “Umm… fine… ooo are ouu…?” she asked, slurring her drunken words.

  “Who did you come with?”

  “Zackary MaKayla’s!” she mispronounced my idiot cousin’s name.

  “Where is he now?”

  “Beats me!” She dramatically threw her arms in the air, acting as if she had no idea where he was. I had an idea. Zack was the type of guy to come to a party with an innocent girl, get her drunk and leave her for dead. He was probably off doing some other whore in the back seat of his McLaren.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Katie.” she pronounced her name, loud and clear. Then I realized I’d seen her in the paper a few times, or in the few magazines I’ve read. She’s been on the news for being a great musician and the daughter of the golf course owner that my friends trashed last summer when he and his family were away. “Katie White,” I said out loud, meaning to only say it in my head.

  “That’s my name! Don’t wear it out!” she replied.

  “Okay Katie, let’s go,” I said.

  “Where?”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “Nope.” She curled up on the couch facing away from me. I could see her red g-string hanging out of her skirt. She was too wasted to even notice. “I’m comfy,” she declared. I pulled her skirt down so no one would see, so she wouldn’t be any more embarrassed than she already would be.

  Instead of debating with her, I just picked her up and carried her in my arms like a baby. She was wormy like a fish that just came out of a lake. On my way out, I passed quite a few of people who thought they knew but never really did. They thought I was a guy, a normal one. One that probably would pick a girl that’s drunk, like Katie, and have sex with her just because she was an easy piece of ass. They thought that I smoked pot and they thought I got drunk often. Actually that is exactly opposite of what I am. Actually, I’m a virgin, I don’t drink and I don’t smoke pot or do acid or shit that all my friends do.

  “Way to go Cuz!” said the Zack she came with. There was a girl on his neck. He already had four hickeys on his neck from the hour or so he’d been with this one girl. I just rolled my eyes and walked out to my Neon. I opened the rear passenger door and put her in the backseat.

  “Katie.” After I said her name, all I heard was Zs. She was out cold. I smiled. She was so cute when she slept even when she was shit-faced as all hell. I drove her to my house where my mom would help me take care of her. I knew her and John were still up. I loved them no matter how much they did or didn’t hate me. I pulled into my driveway and turned off my car. I unlocked the back seat door where Katie was from the driver’s seat, walked around and pulled Katie out. She was slung over my shoulder as I walked up to the door.

  “Chris, what are you doing?” my mom asked me.

  I ignored her question and asked her one instead; “Will you help me?”

  “Sure,” she was shocked. I must have surprised her. “Who’s this?”

  “Katie White.” I said, making her face go from shocked to frightened for her life.

  “As in the Daughter of the Legacy White?” I wasn’t aware that, that was her title, or that she even had a title. But I nodded. I put my hands in my back pockets and my mom just stared at me.

  “Will you find her phone please?” I asked.

  “Oh sure. Why didn’t you?”

  “I’m not going to violate the girl just because she’s smashed Ma! I think and hope that you know me a little better than that.” She just made a face and began searching Katie’s person for the cell phone.

  “Okay,” she said finding the blue Razor in Katie’s front skirt pocket. “Now what do I do?”

  “Call her parents and say that she’s staying at Zack’s cousin’s for the night, because it’s safer than driving all the way home.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s true. I’m not driving her home. I don’t know what her parents will say if I leave her on the doorstep drunk as all hell,” I explained. “What would you say if someone left me to die on the front step?”

  “You’re right.” She paused. “Wait, Zack?”

  “Yes Mom.” I nodded. “This girl is oblivious to Zack.”

  “You took her out of a party because you knew how Zack was?”

  “He probably ditched her because she wouldn’t give him any. That’s why he leaves every other sweet girl.”

  “Smart!” she commented on Katie. Mom put the phone to her ear. “Hi, is this Mr. and Mrs. White of Legacy Golf?... I’m Zackary Michaels’ Aunt, Lynn…. Yes… No, Katie is fine… Yes… We were wondering if it would be okay if she stayed here for the night?.... I think it’s safer here than driving across town at three in the morning…” my mom continued with a lot of uh-huh’s and mm-hmm’s after that. “Alright tomorrow then. Thank you.” She hung up.

  “So,” I said waiting for her to answer.

  “I’ll get her dressed in something she can sleep in, you, shower, now.”

  “Alright.” I showered and when I walked into my room. My mom had Katie in my clothes, comfortable and in my bed. Lucky duck.

  “Mom.” She shushed me. “Great!”

  I grabbed a shirt, a clea
n pair of boxers and my flannel pants and went to the bathroom. I dressed quickly and went to the cupboard to grab a pillow and blanket and trailed to the couch in the living room.

  Mom came out of my room.

  “Where’s John?” I noticed my step-dad was nowhere to be found since I got here. Normally he was the one shouting dirty things at me.

  “Sleeping.”

  “Oh.”

  “Go to sleep OK?” Mom said. “She’ll be fine for the night.”

  “Goodnight mom.” She came by the couch to kiss me goodnight like always.

  “You’re my one and only.” She said and kissed my forehead.

  “I know, Mom. I know.” Then I slowly drifted asleep.

  When I turned over the morning after the party all I could say was, “Ow!”

  My head was killing me and I still smelled like alcohol. How much had I drunk? I didn’t dare open my eyes for fear of light. But I had to pee like a mother. I sat up and ran my hand through my oily hair. It felt like I was too wasted to take a shower. I opened my eyes and saw Monster cans everywhere and toy cars, Hot Wheels or something. Where was I? Oh my God, where was I? Had I been kidnapped? Was I at Zack’s house? Where were my clothes? Because I knew I wasn’t wearing mine. Whose clothes was I wearing?

  There was a knock on the door. I froze.

  “Katie?” It was a woman’s voice. I searched around for a clock. Nada.

  “Katie, it’s Chris’s mom, may I come in?” She opened the door a tad. I wanted to move. I felt like I should get out of here, like I was in trouble.

  Who was Chris? Why was I here? Where was I?

  “Hey, you’re awake!” She said, genuinely excited. “Hi I’m Lynn,” she said introducing herself. Her smile was warm, not like a kidnapper’s smile. But I had never been kidnapped only seen it on TV shows. I must be in Chris’s room, I realized. “Here’s your phone. And your clothes, I washed them for you.” She held all but my brain her hands. They smelled clean and she had the courtesy of folding my clothes.

  “Are you hungry? I made breakfast.” She said. “Bacon and eggs.” Just then I got a whiff of what she was cooking. My stomach rumbled and I thought I might have an orgasm just sitting there. It smelled that good.

  “May I use your bathroom first?” I asked politely.

  “Of course. It’s on the right. First door.” She sounded excited, as if this Chris-kid never had girls over. Pathetic.

  “Thanks,” I said, awkwardly squeezing around her. I almost ran to the bathroom, praying I’d make it. I decided not to change into my clothes just yet. I was comfortable in these clothes. On my way out I saw what seemed to be the back of Chris’s head. He had a pretty head. I shook that thought off, realizing it was ridiculous. The alcohol must still be in my system, I thought.

  “Katie!” said his mom again. “Sit here.” In the chair next to this person I hadn’t met yet. I walked up to the barstool and sat down. There was what looked like a man sitting next to me.

  “How’d you sleep?” asked a gorgeous voice.

  “Like a rock,” I said, being a little more comfortable with myself. The embarrassment couldn’t get much worse. I turned my head to look at the boy. He was gorgeous. And then I realized it was Chris, the kid I had thought about on the way through the mile that day, the soldier boy. He’s got to have a girlfriend. He had to. He was too cute not to.

  “That’s good my bed is pretty comfortable.”

  “Yes it is.” I said formally, agreeing.

  I couldn’t help but gaze at his manly beauty and then I realized I must look like crap, along with the frosting of makeup, put on with a putty knife for the night before.

  “What happened last night?”

  “It seemed like your date ditched you, left to die on the couch at a gangster’s house, so I brought you here.”

  My facial expression became serious. Would Zack do that?

  “Chris don’t scare the poor girl,” said Lynn. “He’s just being dramatic.”

  Men. Dramatic? Please.

  “Who took my clothes?” I was stopped mid-sentence.

  “I did dear,” said Lynn.

  I relaxed, knowing this kid next to me wasn’t a perv.

  “Oh, I’m Chris by the way.”

  “I’m Katie.”

  “I know. You said your name so slurred last night that I almost didn’t catch it,” he said. This kid was not creepy at all. I liked him almost. I reached for my phone out of habit, only to remember that I left it on the nightstand in Chris’s room.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. “I have to go get my phone.”

  Chris and Lynn just smiled at me.

  I checked my calls, texts, and voicemail. Nothing. Did my parents not wonder where I was? Did they care if I came home at all?

  As I walked back into the kitchen, Lynn answered my thought train for me.

  “Last night I took the liberty of calling your parents so they wouldn’t be worried,” she said. The bacon in the frying pan sizzled and caught my attention. I breathed in the sweet and salty aroma.

  “What’s your favorite food?” Chris asked.

  “Bacon,” I replied. “You’re good,” I complimented his mom. She smiled brightly and lit up the room.

  “What’s yours?” I asked him.

  “Probably venison roast.”

  “Oh yep, didn’t even think about that, or pork chops on the grill, or medium-rare steak with A-1 sauce, or….” he cut me off.

  “Shhh! You’re making me hungrier!” he complained.

  “So Chris,” I said. “Since I slept in your bed. Where did you sleep?”

  “The couch, the pillow and blanket are still there.” He replied. “I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”

  “Why what time is it?” I asked.

  “Quarter after eight.” Said Lynn, setting down perfect plates of bacon and eggs down in front of Chris and I.

  “Mmm…” I inhaled.

  “Smell good?” Chris asked.

  I nodded.

  “Here you go.” Lynn handed me a fork.

  I immediately dug in, filling my face full, then realizing both sets of eyes were on me, I turned a florescent pink.

  “Cute,” Said Chris aloud.

  I almost laughed, snorting. I was pretty sure that I had embarrassed myself in every way possible so far. I finished chewing, swallowed and turned my head to look at him, shoving his face full just as I did.

  “Christopher!” Lynn reprimanded.

  “What?” he said, his cheeks full.

  “That’s bad manners,” she said.

  He swallowed. “She did it.”

  “She’s our guest,” she said.

  “I live here. This is a private residence. I can do whatever the hell I want.” He defended. I laughed and put the fork to my lips, shoved it full. I admired him for being so comfortable. I had never met a guy like him and I loved it. I adored the shape of his jaw-line, the contours of his face and the way his lips pursed. The hazel of his eyes gazing back into mine. The bridge of his nose crooked and perfect at the same time.

  “What’s your cell phone number?” I asked him.

  He and his mom gave me a surprised look, as if they were surprised to hear me say that.

  “355-2450,” he said.

  “Okay.” I texted him so he had mine too.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  After breakfast, I cleaned myself up. His mom had an extra toothbrush I could use because I had mine in my car and didn’t drive here. I put my hair in a cute, messy ponytail.

  At two, after beating Chris in three games of double-solitaire, five matches in Guitar Hero, and three games of Sequence, Chris took me to the school.

  As I walked in the door, I saw my mother.

  “Hi mom.” I said.

  “Hi dear,” She answered. “Zack’s aunt called us last night and said you were over there. How was it?”

  “It was great, they were really nice, since Zack ditched me!”

  “He what?!�
�

  “Ditched me. And before he did that he gave me a shit load of alcohol so I would have sex with him. What a jerk!” I said. “After that, Chris found me, and took me to Zack’s aunt to take care of me. Please don’t make me go out with him again,” I begged her.

  “That’s fine. Go shower,” she advised.

  “I will. Thanks Mom.” Sarcasm was her favorite aspect of speech.

  Chapter Three: Christopher

  The next few days, thinking about Chris escaladed. During rehearsal, instead of my eyes on the music, I thought about him, day dreamed. Justin tapped me to listen at least four times in one rehearsal. Every time I saw Zack, I ignored him.

  “Katie, what’s wrong?” He stopped me.

  “When will you ever get the hint?”

  “What hint?”

  “Never then.” I proceeded down the hallway.

  “Katie stop.”

  “No.” At that moment he latched himself to my upper arm, not releasing his grip, only tightening it when I tried to flee. “Let go of me.”

  “Not until you listen.”

  “Release me Zackary!” I shouted louder in the hallway.

  “No,” he persisted. I stomped on his foot, making him release my arm.

  “That’s what I thought.” I darted.

  “Get back here!” he ran and limped after me.

  “Make me.” This set him off, just like my father.

  “Katie? What the?” said Professor Dibble.

  “Dibble!” I screamed in relief. “Help me!”

  “What?”

  “…So as I was saying,” I continued and imaginary conversation that Dibble and I had been having, I was ridiculously out of breath. “There really should be only seven notes in an octave…” Zack reached me and realized I was with our professor. “Oh hi Zack!” I said cheerfully, with glower in my eyes. Not only was he exasperated, Zack bent over to his right with a side ache from running.

  Dibble turned into the Orchestral Hall on our left.

  “Katie what was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So what about seven notes in an octave?” he asked me.

  “Nothing,” I said. “There needs to be eight notes in an octave or you can’t have the ninth. That was just a cover conversation.”