Again (12 page)

Carter

Kate
walked in and past the long wood tables near the entrance of the law library. My
heart equally flickered and fell.

I
wanted to see her, but that also made me
want
her. It was a dilemma.

She
headed to my table. “I thought you got here at seven?” she asked.

“Why,
were you trying to avoid me?” It was a silly question considering she was
standing right in front of me, but I guess I wondered if she was struggling
with the same things I was when it came to us, or if I was genuinely damaged
beyond repair.

“You
guessed it,” she joked. Her face was as shiny as the hardcover book she was
holding.

How
did you keep your distance from someone when all you wanted was closeness? How
did you get someone you never wanted to leave you, to leave you alone?

“I
just wanted to show you that I was sober and upright,” she said, running her
hands down both sides of her body from her chest to her hips. It made me wish
her hands were mine.

I
could have come back with something sarcastic and she might have expected me
to, but instead I said, “I’m glad.”

She
joined me at the table and slammed her bag down. She sloughed off her coat and
opened her book. She made herself known. How could I ignore someone who
demanded my attention and deserved it?

“I
thought you didn’t want to study with me,” I said.

“I’m
not studying with you, I’m reading,” she said, showing me her shiny book.

“There
are lots of other places to sit,” I said, the words making me choke.
What the
hell was I doing?
If Tristan were here he would have elbowed me in the
balls, but he wasn’t.

I
was protecting myself, protecting Kate from ever knowing who I really was. I’m
sure from her perspective I didn’t seem like someone who cared about her, but the
only reason I was acting this way was because I truly did.

“Wow,
nice,” she said, starting to gather her stuff.

“That
came out wrong,” I said, saying anything to counteract the way my words made
her mouth tremble, her eyes go dark. I held my hand out to stop her. “I just have
a lot of work to do.” It was the lamest excuse ever.

“You
don’t have to lie,” she said, clearly seeing right through it. “If you want me
to go, I’ll go.”

“I
don’t,” I said. “Please sit.” I didn’t want her to go, that was true, but I did
still have to lie. I had been lying to her from the moment we met. Omission was
a lie.

She
stood there, clearly not convinced.

“I’m
sorry,” I said, my voice low.

“So you
were
lying,” she said.

“No,
I’m sorry for acting like a dick to you.”

“I
probably sort of deserve it, anyway,” she replied, and something about the way
she softened as she sat back down calmed me.

“Probably,”
I smirked.

“Hysterical,”
she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay dressed till the library gets a keg.”

“I’ve
heard it’s happened,” I replied, “after finals.”

“I
was joking.” Her brown eyes banked against mine.

“So
was I.” I slapped the table with both hands. “Actually, we don’t have to talk
about it anymore. Let’s forget anything ever happened,” I said before I could
stop myself. My blood turned to ice, my stomach clenched. Tristan didn’t need
to elbow me in the balls. I was more than capable of self-inflicting that level
of pain.

She
paused, running her hands through her hair and looking away from me, like she
was trying to hide her shock. “I was thinking the same thing. Saturday was a
mistake, all of it.”

I bit
my lip, trying to hide my disappointment even though I’d asked for it. I never
wanted to forget what had happened between us, even though I definitely should.

It
wasn’t what I wanted, but it had been years since what I wanted trumped what I
had to do.

She
picked up her book and started to read.

“Oh,
I remember that class,” I said, trying to act normal, even though I felt anything
but.

“Bomb
it too?” she asked.

“Wow,
you’re even funnier when you’re sober,” I said, leaning toward her, because even
though I was trying to deny it, being so far away from her felt wrong. When it
came to Kate the only thing that wouldn’t be a failure would be taking her into
my arms in front of everyone, being able to admit I wanted her no matter what
the consequences.

“You
should see me when I first wake up in the morning before I’ve even had
caffeine,” she said.

I
couldn’t help picturing it. She was in bed next to me, naked under my sheets,
her tits visible through the sheer white. Her lips glided slowly to my neck and
my chest and down…my cheeks reddened. I cleared my throat and pointed at her
book. “Actually I got a C.”

“Then
you’ll excuse me if I don’t ask for your help.” Her bottom lip twitched. “Not
that I need it. I know everything from this class already. We had this one case—”
She closed her mouth tight and focused on the table, like she was trying to
hide what she’d said.

Who was “we?” Had her parents been lawyers or something?

“What
am I talking about right now?” she said, making herself laugh. Her skin was
ashen, her shoulders tightened.

I
could tell
she
was lying, but why? “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,”
she said, shaking her head like it was no big deal, “perfect. I just remembered
I told Dawn she could borrow my laptop tonight.” She stood and got her stuff
together before I could respond, her hands moving fast like I was a fire she
needed to get away from.  

I
watched her leave, pushing through the front doors of the library so quickly it
was almost like she’d never even sat down.

I was
pretty sure Dawn had her own laptop, considering she’d been here for almost a
semester before Kate even arrived.

I
guess I wasn’t the only one who had secrets they wanted to keep.

Kate

The
next day after class I got back to the dorm and could hear Dawn yelling through
our door.

I
remembered the lie I’d told Carter about her needing my laptop, and my ribs
tightened like a vice. Luckily, no one had come to drag me out of any of my
classes today. I guess I’d covered up what I’d started to say well enough that
Carter wasn’t suspicious enough to talk to anyone about it, or ask anyone about
it. For example, the administration I was lying to and defrauding with my fake
transcripts and ID.

 I
waited on the other side of our door. I hadn’t talked to Dawn since our fight and
I was avoiding walking in on what sounded like another one. I stood at the door
and listened, hoping no one would walk by, especially not Steph and Alex.

Who
was I kidding? Especially not Carter.

A
weird disappointment crept in and I squashed it down. Avoiding him was a good
thing. I should have been thrilled not to have to deal with the complications
he caused. Should have been relieved instead of hurt when he’d said we should
just forget everything that had happened. As much as I’d told Professor Parker he
was just my RA, Carter was my only friend here—my only friend who I kept lying
to. Who, when I let out a smidgen of truth, I ran away from rather than being
caught.

When I thought about his kiss, recalled the need that surged
through me, I knew I would wear his lips as permanently as a tattoo for the
rest of my life.

So
what did that make him?

“Nothing
has changed.” I heard Dawn yell through the door. “I’m not interested in what
you have to say.”

I
waited to hear another voice, but none came. She must have been fighting with
someone on the phone.

“I
don’t want to listen to you,” she said louder. “I’m sick of listening to you,
sick of you.”

Another
pause, the person on the other end of the line stating their case; I didn’t
hear even the faintest sound. It made me wonder who she was talking to that
wouldn’t yell back, wouldn’t match her octave for octave. Only someone who knew
they were wrong.

Dawn
played a good game, but even she had people who cared about her, people she cared
enough about to fight with. People who loved her enough to let her fight.

She
tried as hard as I to become someone without attachments, but there wasn’t
enough black and makeup in the world to keep the people you cared about from
getting to you.

Continuing
to stack lies when you finally found someone who made you feel like your truest
self was no use either.

“I’m
hanging up now,” I heard her say.

I
guess it was someone she wouldn’t hang up on.

“Then
stop sending the checks,” she said solidly. “It’s just because you’re guilty.
This call is finished.”

I
heard her jump onto her bed and let out a scream loud enough to break the eardrums
of a bird flying over the building. Then she started to cry. She didn’t care
how paper-thin the walls were. Though why would she when she didn’t seem to
care about anything—except this person she couldn’t hang up on.

She probably
also wasn’t expecting me to be listening at the door like a creeper.

I
should have left, given her time before I walked in, but Dawn seemed like she
needed someone, and even though she’d given me shit the whole time I’d been
here, I understood.

“Is
everything okay?” I asked as I entered. I closed the door behind me quickly,
stood blocking it, giving her less of a chance to run away.

She
wasn’t trying to. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, breathing so heavily
her nostrils were practically flaring. If she would have been the skull she was
drawing the other day flames would have been coming out her sockets instead of
goo.

“Why
wouldn’t it be?” Her eyes were wet and she wiped them hastily. Even with her
tears, not one streak of makeup had slithered down her cheek. I’d have to ask
her what kind of mascara she used when she was in a better mood.

“You
just seem upset,” I said, pushing even though it was the last thing I should be
doing, especially with Dawn.

“When
am I not upset?” she asked. “This is like my standard.”

I
waited for her to click on her music, stick in her earbuds, and drown me out,
but she didn’t. She lay back on her black comforter and stared at the ceiling.

I
stepped away from the door, threw off my coat, dropped my bag, and sat on my
own bed. “So who were you talking to?”

“Oh,”
She squinted at me. “So you heard me?”

“I
think the state of Florida heard you.”

“It’s
way too sunny there,” she said.

I
didn’t respond. Maybe she was building up to tell me. Give me her real answer,
the true reason for everything she kept inside with black and death and fear.
It was a lot to expect from someone I barely knew.

Even
Veronica never got my real answer. The reason I kept everything inside with
alcohol and men like David. She got the answer she could handle because she was
my friend. She got the answer I wasn’t embarrassed to give because she was my
colleague. She got the answer I could live with saying.

My real
answer: it was what I deserved; I’d made too many mistakes in my life to ever
hope for better.

“I
was talking to my asshole father,” Dawn said, her back tight against the
mattress. “He cheats on my mom and thinks I’m supposed to have respect for him
after that.” She breathed out evenly again and again, like she was trying to
keep a black feather from falling against her lips.

“How
do you know he cheats on your mom?”

She
turned, an
I wasn’t born yesterday
mask hijacked her usual
fuck the
world
mask. “My mom might deny it to herself, but I’m not stupid. He’s been
doing it for years.”

“Sorry,”
I said. There was nothing else to say. Was a cheating father better than a
sperm donor? At least a sperm donor couldn’t disappoint me. At least I’d never
disappointed him.

“He’s
the one who should be sorry. Really my mom should be.” She sighed. “She knows,
but stays with him.” She shook her head.

“Adults
can be stupid.”

“
People
can be stupid,” she replied. “It doesn’t matter how old you are. If you’re an
asshole you’re an asshole.”

“Now
I understand why you really think your Dad’s an asshole, aside from the whole
lawyer thing.”

“He
wasn’t always, but he is now. He could stop but he keeps getting someone new,
from the gym, or his office, or the country club we belong to, or his office,”
she repeated, her lips pursing as she thought of each woman that place
represented.

“How
do you know?” I asked.

“Because
I’m
not stupid, also he doesn’t hide it. He keeps pictures and texts and
stuff on his phone.”

“That
sucks.”

She
exhaled her agreement. “He’s an enormous asshole and my mom’s a wimp and I’m
the result.” She sat up and pointed at herself. “He says I should be grateful
since he helped get me into school here because of some professor he’s friends
with on staff. Like I even care. I just wanted to get the hell out of the
house.”

I
nodded.

“What
about your parents?” she asked, watching me.

I wished
I didn’t have to lie to her. She was actually opening up to me, but I had a
cover to keep.

“They
died,” I said, hating I had to tell her that. I wished I could tell her I never
even knew my dad’s name. I’d pretty much been a disappointment to my mother
from day one. When someone goes to scientific lengths to make you they expect
something super-human. I was human. I made mistakes.

I
kept making them.

I
still was.

“Lucky
you,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sometimes,”
I swallowed. She had no reason to think I was lying. Maybe everyone was a
disappointment to their parents. Maybe you kept being one until you were no
longer a disappointment to yourself.

“He’s
coming here soon without my mom,” she said, spinning the studded cuff around
her neck. “He wants to talk. I have nothing to say.”

“He’s
not having an affair to hurt you.”

“That’s
what he says,” she scoffed.

“Which
means it’s true.”

“Truth
doesn’t change the way it makes you feel.”

I
absolutely understood. “Maybe you should tell him how it makes
you
feel.”

“Maybe
he should know,” she said, her words piling on top of each other. “Maybe he
should divorce my mother instead of treating her like a fool.”

David
had a wife and a kid—a daughter. I wondered if she was aware of our affair. If
she was in a room somewhere bitching about what an asshole her dad was too.

All
I ever cared about when I was with David was making him happy, not what I was
doing to his wife or his family. He never talked about them, so I never thought
they mattered to him, but that didn’t mean they didn’t matter.

“I’m
sure he hates what he’s done to you,” I said.

“Then
he should stop.”

That
was what everyone said when you did something destructive. It was easy to tell
someone to stop. It was a hell of a lot harder to be the person who had to do
it.

I
knew about the damaged parts of a person. The pieces you wanted to hide that
people close to you always found eventually. They were the rawest parts of you,
which usually made them the hardest to let go of.

David
would never stop. He’d proven that by finding someone new as soon as he’d
dumped me. Maybe Dawn’s father wouldn’t either.

What
did that logic mean for someone with a past like mine? As hard as I might try,
as much as the people around me kept asking, the destruction had already been
done.

I
was me no matter where I was, no matter who I pretended to be.

Maybe
it was time to stop pretending.