by Laurel Kerr
Bowie pulled back. His face still looked white and haggard, making a sharp contrast to his nasty-looking black eye. “I love you so much.”
With that, Katie’s heart thrilled. She smiled at him warmly. “Yes, and we need to get down to celebrating that.”
He grinned boyishly, but the smile didn’t completely reach his eyes. He was still hurting. Badly. The video had shaken him. As a teenager, Katie had dreamed of him feeling her pain. She wanted him to steep in guilt and remorse until it tortured him. It appeared that she’d gotten her wish, and it slayed her.
She pulled him over to her couch. “Come on. Let’s sit down and talk.”
Bowie plopped down and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “I hadn’t watched the video before, Katie. I mean, I obviously saw what Sawyer slipped into the morning announcements, but I never saw you cry.” He looked up, his tormented gaze locking onto hers. “I never saw you cry.”
Katie grasped the significance of his repeated words immediately. She’d never allowed anyone to witness her tears—or at least she thought she hadn’t. Evidently, one of Sawyer’s goons was still filming that day in the janitor’s closet.
Katie patted Bowie’s shoulder. There wasn’t anything to say. He had made her cry. Quite often, in fact.
“I can’t get the sound out of my head,” he said as he stared at the floor. Then he swallowed. Audibly. “Matt said you cried yourself to sleep. Every night.”
Something clicked in her mind. The black eye. Matt speaking to Bowie. Her brothers. She should have realized. The video was public knowledge. The stupid thing had gone viral since it was linked to Bowie’s pig-kissing video. Of course, her brothers had seen it, and she had a feeling they’d reacted as all idiot brothers would. Her siblings could be every bit as devious and as cruel as Bowie had been.
“Bowie,” Katie said slowly, “where did you get that black eye?”
“It’s not important,” he said. “I deserved it.”
“Bowie,” she repeated, even more deliberately this time, “what did my brothers do to you?”
He glanced in her direction. “Nothing I wouldn’t have done to a guy who treated my daughter like shit.”
“Exactly,” she said. “That’s what I’m concerned about.”
“Katie, I made your life hell for two and a half years,” Bowie said. “They’re guys, and they love you. It’s what guys do.”
She ran her hand through his soft hair. “Yes, but you’re my guy, and they hit you when you were down.”
Bowie shrugged. “I was sort of glad they did. It was better for them to beat on me than for me to do it myself.”
Katie’s heart fractured just a little at that statement. “Oh, Bowie.”
“I can’t help but think about what Josh said to me. I am your villain, Katie.”
She knew then what she had to do. If she wanted any chance of a future with Bowie, she needed to open herself up completely to him, and that started with her art. There was risk, sure, but the reward could be great. It was time to stop letting doubt hold her back.
“Bowie, there’s something I need to show you.”
* * *
Katie gave Bowie an uncharacteristically shy smile when she returned to the room a few minutes later, and he had another flashback to high school. She used to look at him like that back then. A strong memory of her standing by her locker as he came down the hall popped into his mind. They’d been fake-dating back then—or, at least, he had. He’d remembered thinking that no one had ever looked that happy to see him, not even Sawyer.
It hadn’t been too long afterward that Sawyer had decided to move to the pig-kissing phase of their prank. In retrospect, Bowie wondered if Sawyer hadn’t recognized that he’d begun to soften toward Katie, maybe even fall slightly for her. But Sawyer had been pretty and popular, and being with her meant that the whole school respected him. If he’d chosen Katie, he would have been relegated back to the drug addicts’ son dating that weird redhead.
“Gosh, I’m nervous,” Katie confessed as she dropped a spiral notebook onto Bowie’s lap.
On the front cover, she had scrawled in thick marker, “Property of Katie Underwood.” Bowie reached for it and then paused. “Is this from high school?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I used to draw fantasy characters…princes and princesses. I had whole stories in my head. Some of the drawings are even from middle school. I’d doodle in my class notebooks, and when I came up with something really good, I redrew it here in ink.”
“Did you show this to me in high school?” Bowie hoped that she hadn’t, not after the dick way he’d treated her.
Katie shook her head and settled next to him. “Not this. It would have been too personal.”
She reached over and flipped open a page. The first picture was of a girl with wild, red hair dressed in leather. Bowie stared at it, transfixed.
“I know.” Katie sighed. “She looks like the girl from the Pixar movie.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Bowie said. “She looks like you did back in high school.”
“Probably because she is me,” Katie said. “At least the fantasy version of me.”
She flipped to the next page. Bowie found a mirror image of himself. Unlike Self Doubt from Katie’s college newspaper, this version of him had a teenage boy’s thinner body with some muscles, but not fully ripped. His jet-black hair obscured one gray eye. The smile on his face was warm and welcoming, unlike the sinister smirk of Self Doubt.
That wasn’t the only difference. This figure wasn’t clad in a swirling black cloak. He wore a leather doublet over a white linen shirt, breeches, and brown leather boots. A fur-trimmed green cape rested on his shoulders, and a thin, silver circlet perched on his head.
Bowie’s throat tightened as he stared at the figure before him. Ah, shit.
“I was the prince in your stories, wasn’t I?” Bowie asked needlessly.
Katie nodded. “Originally.”
“Let me guess,” he said. “I changed into the villain the night after the pig-kissing episode.”
Katie nodded and flipped the page. Instead of a static character drawing, this showed the prince battling an older, gnarled wizard. From the prince’s stance and position, he was clearly trying to protect a group of villagers and his own wounded guardsmen. The wizard was laughing as he shot lightning toward the villagers with one hand and what looked like a magical chain from the other. The prince’s face was skillfully drawn as it simultaneously conveyed desperation and fear, yet also stalwart bravery. The young man was clearly choosing to use his sword to deflect the lightning away from the crowd, rather than protecting himself from the evil chain snaking toward his midsection.
The prince wasn’t just a pretty boy. He was noble and self-sacrificing. More than that, his look of terror humanized him. For a high-school girl’s fantasy, he wasn’t a teen magazine pinup but a complex character. Bowie had no idea how he would have reacted to this drawing in high school, but it certainly humbled him now.
“Why?” he asked, ripping his eyes from the page to study her.
Katie’s forehead furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”
“Why did you make me the prince?” Bowie asked. Was it just his looks, or had she seen something in him? Something decent and maybe even a little noble.
Katie paused and then licked her lips. “It was right before middle school.”
Before middle school? Had he known Katie back then? He supposed he must have. The town only had one elementary and one middle school. He hadn’t paid too much attention to class or to his schoolmates. He’d spent most of the time staring outside, dreaming of leaving Sagebrush Flats behind.
“It was summer,” Katie was saying. “I’d gone with my brothers to the park near our house.”
“Yeah, I know it,” Bowie said. He use
d to go there to make drug deliveries for his father.
“The twins were at the ball field, and the older two were playing a game of pickup football with their friends,” Katie said. “I never had any interest in sports, so I did what I always did. I found a quiet spot under an elm and started sketching.”
Bowie wished he could remember her sitting under that tree, her face scrunched up in concentration. His first memory of Katie was of her rushing to class, half doubled over under the weight of her enormous backpack. Sawyer had pointed her out as the “little dorky nobody” with a crush on him. He’d vaguely recalled seeing her around in the past, but that was the extent of his knowledge.
“There was a group of boys,” Katie continued. “Some of them were in our grade, but a couple of them were one or two years older. One boy snatched my notebook. I lunged and tried to take it back, but he just laughed and tossed it to his friend. They then got the bright idea to play monkey-in-the-middle.”
“I wish I could go back in time and beat them up for you,” Bowie said.
Katie smiled. “You did stop them. You came pedaling up. You paused for a second and then jumped off your bicycle, letting it fall onto the grass. You sauntered up the hill, plucked the notebook out of the air during midtoss, handed it back to me, and got right back on your bike. I’ve had a crush on you ever since.”
“I don’t remember doing that,” Bowie said.
“You did,” Katie said. “In my eleven-year-old brain, that bicycle was a white steed.”
Growing up, Bowie had generally stuck to himself. If someone messed with him, he fought back, but he didn’t insert himself into conflict. Something about Katie vainly jumping for her book must have struck some chord inside him. Most likely, it had reminded him of the games his father and his drinking buddies had played on him. Plus, it was just wrong for a bunch of boys to pick on a girl, especially if some of them were a little older.
“I didn’t do things like that a lot,” he admitted. “I’m glad I did, though. I just wish I could have been that guy for you in high school.”
Katie’s smile grew wistful. “Part of me does too. But you know what? I think it worked out for the best. Enduring what I did gave me inner strength. Plus, if you’d chosen me over Sawyer—”
“I wouldn’t have Abby,” Bowie said. “I know. I’ve thought that myself.”
Katie started to speak, stopped herself, and then plunged forward. “Do you ever wish…if it wasn’t for your daughter…”
“That I would have picked you?” Bowie finished her question when her voice trailed off. “Hell, yes, if it wasn’t for Abby. I needed someone like you in my life back then. I might have started paying more attention in school instead of putting my energy into stupid pranks. Honestly, I think part of me started to fall for you too.”
Katie straightened with interest. When she spoke, her voice was higher than usual.
“Really?”
Bowie smiled at her uncharacteristic squeak. She sounded like her teenage self. “I liked talking to you. A lot. You weren’t like everybody else. You didn’t treat me like I was stupid. You talked about everything—history, science, art—without dumbing anything down. It wasn’t until Lou and Gretchen that anyone else acted like I had a brain in my head.”
“Everyone else was an idiot,” Katie said indignantly. “Any fool could see how intelligent you were, even back then. You might have been a smart aleck when teachers called on you, but you gave the best sarcastic responses. Your retorts were rude, but they were also clever.”
“The principal didn’t think so.”
Katie laughed. “You still shouldn’t have said them, no matter how witty they were. And then there were your pranks. They were diabolical, sure, but carefully planned and well executed. Sawyer and her friends weren’t smart enough to pull them off on their own. I always knew you were the mastermind.”
Bowie pulled her close. “There was another reason I started to fall for you back then. You had this amazing passion. I’d never met anyone who could focus on something like you can. And you were nice. To me. To others. I think Sawyer realized it. That’s why she upped the timing of the pig-kissing. I was supposed to string you along for a couple more weeks.”
Katie swallowed. “Did you ever regret it? I mean, back then? I know you do now.”
“Yeah,” Bowie said. “Honestly, Sawyer didn’t give me much time to think about it. I’d laid out the entire scheme to her and her friends when she first mentioned you. You and I hadn’t even talked at that point. Since I had all the details worked out, her friends were able to get everything ready, including the pig. So when Sawyer told me everything was set up, I agreed. I felt awful afterward. I even left a note in Sawyer’s locker to tell her not to run the video on the morning announcements. She claimed she didn’t get the message in time, but I have my doubts now. Anyway, after it ran, you already hated me, and Sawyer’s friends treated me like I was the king of the school. You know the rest.”
“It was horrible,” Katie said. “I’m not telling this to accuse you, but it’s why I pushed you away…why I pushed men away. I’d built up this whole fantasy of you. I never thought it would come true, but when you asked me out, I experienced this whole torrent of emotions. It was so exciting, so amazing that part of me wanted to keep that joy to myself and cherish it before I told anyone. I didn’t even let my mom know about us.”
Bowie didn’t speak. He knew this was going to be hard for him to hear, but he needed to listen. Katie deserved to tell her story, and until she did, it would always fester between them.
“I daydreamed constantly about our first kiss,” she continued. “I thought it would be magical, like in the movies. I’d spin story after story. Then, it happened…or rather it didn’t. This one moment I’d been dreaming about since I was eleven, and then it was with a pig.”
Bowie shifted uncomfortably. He stroked his hand over Katie’s soft curls. He didn’t know if it was to soothe him or her. Probably both.
“I think I would have gotten over that…if it had ended there,” Katie said as she stared into the living room. “Then there was the morning announcement, my journal being read aloud, the Little Orphan Annie wigs. It just didn’t stop.”
“You know, I’d go back in time and beat myself up if I could,” Bowie told her truthfully. He wanted to punch the little punk who’d put her through all this.
Katie flashed him a weak smile. “I’d almost let you, but it wouldn’t solve anything. That’s why I didn’t tell my brothers. Plus, I was embarrassed. The whole school was making fun of me. Even my few friends stopped hanging out with me. They didn’t turn on me, but they weren’t popular either and didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”
Ah, shit. Bowie hadn’t known that. Guilt sliced at him. He hated that he’d done that to her. He understood social isolation, and it destroyed him that he’d brought it on Katie.
“I didn’t realize,” he said. “I never thought about that. I should have, but I didn’t.”
Katie shrugged. “I survived. It wasn’t fun, but I had my family and my drawings. Honestly, it made me a more prolific and better artist. Plus, college was great. June forced me to be social, and I had plenty of friends. Everything worked out in the end.”
Bowie squeezed her and pressed a kiss against her temple. “I’m glad you met June and Josh too. He and I might have had our issues, but he’s a good friend to you. Both of them are.”
Katie leaned her head against Bowie’s shoulder. She was silent for a moment, and he was wondering what she was thinking. He leaned over and gently pressed another kiss on her forehead.
She wiggled her body so that she could watch him. “Something has been bothering me about your parents. Do you mind if I ask a question?”
Bowie brushed his lips against Katie’s. He hated talking about his mom and dad, but he again sensed that she needed this. Part of him even fel
t warmed that she wanted to know more, that she worried about him. It was still a novel thing for him, and he kind of liked it.
“What do you want to know?”
Katie inhaled and then asked in a rush, “Did your parents… Did they abuse you? Physically, I mean.”
Bowie shook his head. “Not much. It was mainly verbal. I mean, if I bothered them at the wrong time, especially if they were on something strong, they’d give me a smack or two. I guess my dad did more than my mom, but I learned pretty quickly when to lie low.”
Tears glistened in Katie’s eyes. Bowie brushed them away with his thumb. “Hey, now. None of that. I’m okay. That all happened a long time ago.”
“What about your foster parents? Did they?”
Bowie shook his head. “They ignored me for the most part.”
“Even the rancher? The one who kicked you out after you broke your leg?”
“I lived in the bunkhouse with the other ranch hands. They weren’t too bad a group of guys. Some of them were drifters. A couple of old-timers. Quite a few migrant workers. I was a lot younger, so I wasn’t real close to them, but they didn’t bother me either.”
“It sounds lonely,” Katie said.
“It was,” Bowie admitted.
She snuggled against him. “It makes even more sense now.”
“What does?”
“Why you treated me the way you did in high school. You weren’t being mean, not really. You were just desperately trying to fit in.”
Bowie brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “I wish I’d done it in a different way.”
Katie smiled back at him. “So do I, but at least now I get why you did it. I wish you’d told me about your home life back then. I would have made you understand that you mattered and that you didn’t need Sawyer or any of her idiot friends to make you important.”
A rush of emotion charged through Bowie. He crushed Katie to him, his mouth pressing against hers. The kiss deepened. When they broke apart, she smiled, rose from the couch, and tugged on his hand. As much as he wanted to follow her to the bedroom, he shook his head. Now that he’d resolved things with Katie, he had to get back to Abby. His baby girl was hurting, and he should be with her, even if he didn’t know how to help.
