You Knew Me When (21 page)

K
itty was supposed to come home last Friday. She has the week off, like I do and like the rest of the college students in the world, but she called Grant on Thursday to say she wouldn't be able to make it to Vermont until today. The day before Thanksgiving. Something about an internship. I guess her dad's struggling a bit with tuition and Kitty feels guilty—no surprise there—so she's trying to help out. Obviously, I can't blame her for that. I know how fortunate Grant and I are that our parents could pay for school without worrying, and that we didn't have to take on jobs in addition to all the class work we have. Or, rather,
had
in Grant's case. He's done. He graduated last May, and since then he's been working at our dad's shipping company until he figures out exactly what he wants to do, which, from the sounds of it, is not to join our father at the shipping company. I don't think my dad had any expectations of that happening, so no harm done. He's pretty content to have his son around for now, and when the time comes that he's ready to move on, my dad will be cool with that too.

I think Grant's just waiting for Kitty and me to graduate at the end of the year. Well, really, he's waiting for Kitty, but he knows that Kitty and I are going to move to New York, so—for once—Grant's life kind of hinges on my plans. I mean,
our
plans. Kitty's and mine, that is. Grant and I were not happy when Kitty decided to go to NYU instead of UVM. For one, she failed to mention that she'd applied—to either of us. She said it was a last-minute thing and that it all happened very quickly. She felt bad, I think, but she still left. I was angry for a while. For starters, NYU was not part of the master plan. Of course, Grant wasn't part of the master plan either, so I'm trying to be flexible.

I couldn't understand why she'd want to leave her best friend and her boyfriend, whom she's so obviously obsessed with, and move to a city she claimed she didn't even like in the first place. I've made the best of it for almost four years, as did Grant, but I know he was more upset than he admitted. At first they talked on the phone, like, a million times a day. They needed to know what the other one had eaten for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; which classes they'd attended that day; who their friends were; whether or not there were any cute guys or girls on their respective halls—like either of them had or would ever have eyes for anyone else. And, worst of all, they had this mushy-gushy language that they spoke.
I wuv you. I wuv you more. Well, I wuv you the most.
It was enough to send Grant's roommates packing after his first semester. For real.

By the middle of Grant's sophomore year, the phone calls had slowed down. He and Kitty talked maybe once a day, if not a few times a week. I could tell it bothered Grant and that he wondered what Kitty was doing, where she was doing it, and whom she was doing it with, but he kept it to himself, burying himself in his schoolwork and a few extracurricular activities, not one of which was dating other girls. Not that they weren't interested.

Kitty has come home for the usual breaks, most of them, at least. But it always seems like she's in a rush to get back to school for one thing or another. She actually likes New York, despite her initial resistance. She says she's learning the lay of the land so that by the time I get there, she can be my personal tour guide. From my perspective, it sounds like she's experiencing everything without me. She has this friend called Freya who lives down the hall and is from Connecticut, so she's spent a lot of time in New York and, apparently, she's acting as Kitty's personal tour guide. Whatever. If I have to hear about another off-off-off-off-off-Broadway show or Thai restaurant Freya took her to, I might lose my noodles.

Obviously, I'm still Kitty's best friend, but she has changed. Everyone's noticed it. Even my dad said something about it when she was home for fall break, and he's usually pretty clueless about stuff like that. She has this air of confidence about her that she never had before. And she's started dressing more sophisticated too. Instead of the baggy clothing she used to wear, all the sudden she's in slim-fitting jeans and flowery tops with turquoise jewelry. Must be Freya's influence. I know; the name's a little much. I made fun of it when Kitty first told me about her freshman year, but she got defensive, so I dropped it. Too bad for Freya that she's not part of our master plan.

In other news, I started dating someone two months ago: Rick. He's hot and smart—not the type I usually go for. The smart part, I mean. Oh, and he's good with his hands, in more ways than one. We met at the frozen yogurt dispenser in the cafeteria. It had broken down for about the millionth time since I got to UVM, and Rick was able to fix it in about four minutes flat. Even the kitchen staff was impressed. After that, he paid for my swirl yogurt with sprinkles and promptly asked for my number. I knew he'd call. A girl knows these things. And, sure enough, he did. Three days later. I kind of liked that he made me wait. College guys can be so desperate sometimes, and it's really unattractive if you ask me. Rick lives in Boston, but he said he might be able to sneak away after Thanksgiving and come to Vermont to meet Kitty.

Is he the one? Doubtful. I suppose he could be—in a universe where I could actually stay with one person for more than a few months. And in a universe where I wasn't twenty-one years old with my whole life ahead of me. I'm not like Kitty. She and Grant have already committed to spending the rest of their lives together, or at least that's what they tell each other and anyone else who will listen. We'll see.

Kitty's train got into the station at one o'clock today. I wanted to pick her up, but she said she needed to spend a little time with her dad first and that she'd be over here no later than two thirty, which is in fifteen minutes. Then I'll have her to myself for about three and a half hours before Grant comes home and steals her away. I'm so excited, I can barely contain myself. We have
so much
to catch up on. She barely knows anything about me and Rick. All we ever talk about, when Kitty actually has time to talk, is her new life in New York. Without me.

I curled up on the window seat by our front door, the same window seat where I sat waiting for Kitty to arrive in Manchester ten years ago. On the one hand, it's hard to believe it's been that long. On the other hand, I feel like Kitty and I have been best friends forever.

By two forty-five, there was no sight of Kitty, and I was starting to get annoyed. I know she rarely gets to see her dad, but she rarely gets to see me either, and between the three of us—me, Grant, and Kitty's dad—it always seems like I'm the one that gets screwed. Just as I was about to go over and drag her from her house, I saw Kitty walking across our lawn. I jumped up and bolted to the door, flinging it open to find her standing there with a sheepish look on her face.

“Don't kill me. I know I'm late.” She waited to see if I was pissed.

“I'll spare you this time. Get in here!” We did our little hugging, shrieking dance we always do whenever it's been too long since we've see each other. “You look great!” I held her at arm's length. “Did you lose weight?”

“Maybe a little. My dad asked the same thing.” She tucked her hair, which was streaked with fresh auburn highlights, behind her ears. “I do a lot of walking in New York. It's not like here, where you have to drive everywhere.”

“I know. I wasn't born yesterday.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Wait a minute. Are you tan?”

“I think so.” A guilty expression hijacked her innocent face.

“What do you mean, ‘I think so'?” I grabbed her hand and led her up to my room. Yes, I know we're twenty-one, but I can't help myself. I've missed Kitty so much. I've met some okay girls at UVM; no one like Kitty, though. Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not really a girls' girl. I get along better with guys. And Kitty.

“Freya took me to a tanning salon this week. She said I couldn't go home to my boyfriend looking like a corpse.”

“Is that so?” Fine, so Freya was right. It's just a little ironic considering that Kitty has been on my ass for years about sun overexposure. I once nicknamed her SPF and called her that for an entire month.

“I know it's really bad for you. I only did six minutes. Freya tans every week. She has some frequent-tanner card and everything.”

“Fancy Freya.” I rolled my eyes and plopped onto my bed.

“Sorry.” Kitty lay down across from me, our feet dangling off the side.

“Sorry what?” I propped my head up with my right hand, digging my elbow into a small throw pillow.

“I know you don't like Freya.” Kitty pointed to one of the many other pillows stacked against my headboard and I tossed it to her.

“I don't even know her.”

“Yeah, but it annoys you when I talk about her.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Yes, it does, Laney. I know you.”

“Sue me if I don't want to hear about Freya every five seconds.”

“Don't worry; she'll never take your place.” Kitty cocked her head and gave me a silly smile. For the first time, I noticed just how different she looks. It could be the tan or the auburn highlights—I didn't ask, but I can only assume this Freya chick had something to do with those too—or the fact that she's lost at least ten pounds, if not fifteen. Still, it seems like more than that. It's the whole way she carries herself and the way she speaks. So self-assured and grown-up. Don't get me wrong; Kitty has always been a fifty-year-old trapped in a younger body, with her impressive vocabulary and her overall mature-for-her-age disposition, but this is different. I can't put my finger on it.

“As if she could, even if she wanted to.”

“Exactly.” She kicked off her boots, and her face got serious all the sudden. “So, how's Grant doing?”

“Fine, I think. You'd know better than I would.”

“Honestly, we don't get to talk that much.” She knit her brow. “There's always so much going on and our schedules never seem to match up. If I'm coming, he's going. If I'm going, he's coming.”

“I guess we can't all keep up with your busy life.”

“Lane, come on. That's not what I'm saying.”

“Whatever. I'm really busy too. There's so much to do at UVM and in Burlington. It's like I'm never even in my dorm room.”

“Well, that's a good thing. Right?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, it's not
New York City
, but there's still tons of stuff going on.”

“I wish Grant told me more. It's like I don't even know what he does every day.”

“Well, as you say, it's hard to reach you, so . . .” I really did not want to talk about how busy Kitty's life in New York is anymore. “Wait a minute. You're not . . .”

“What?”

“Thinking about breaking up with Grant?”

“Oh, God, no!” Kitty perked up immediately. “I love Grant. It's just hard being away from each other for such long blocks of time. I miss him. A lot.”

“He misses you too.”

“I know. And sometimes . . .” she trailed off.

“Sometimes what?”

“I don't know. I feel like he thinks it's my fault.” She sat up.

“Well, I mean, you did leave, but I think he's past that. Hey, the good news is, it'll all be over soon!” I clapped my hands together excitedly in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Yeah, I know. Six more months.”

“What's six months when you have the rest of your lives to be together?”

“True.” Kitty didn't seem convinced.

“Let's talk about something else. I don't need you all depressed about my brother when he's not even here yet.”

“Good idea. What do you want to talk about?”

“Me, of course!” Kitty laughed. Finally.

“That's right. Hot new man, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Do tell.” I could see Kitty was trying her best to indulge me, but it was obvious her mind was elsewhere. Probably thinking about Grant.

“Well, he's gorgeous. And smart.”

“Really?”

“I know. Right?”

“Smart like he knows how to count to ten, or smart like he's going to graduate?” Kitty smiled irreverently.

“Like he's going to graduate. With a three-point-eight GPA, thank you very much.”

“Wow!”

“Yup! I can date smart men too. Actually he's coming here Friday to meet you. I think I told you he lives in Boston.”

“That's cool. I can't wait.”

“Oh, and my mom invited you to dinner that night.”

“I can't. I promised Luella.”

“Boo! How about Saturday?”

“About that.”

“What?” I knew exactly what she was going to say. The same thing she's said every other time she's been home on break for the past two years.

“I have to go back to New York on Saturday morning.”

“Kitty!”

“I know. I know. I'm sorry.”

“What is it this time?”

“Don't say it like that.”

“Well?”

“I haven't had a chance to fill you in, but I got this new internship at a cosmetics company. Well, Luella got it for me. Her friend Jane owns it. They're going to pay me. Not much, but at least it's something, enough that I can give up my student-center job, which sucks, so that's a relief. Anyway, there's this event on Saturday night that Jane asked me to come help at, and since it's my first thing for her, I really can't say no.”

“Wow, that's really great for you.”
Don't worry about the rest of us.
“Have you told Grant yet?”

“No, I'm telling you first.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

“We're still on for August, right?” Grant, Kitty, and I are all going back to Nantucket together for our final free week before we have to get jobs and actually become responsible adults. Okay, I guess Grant is already a responsible adult, as is Kitty. So before
I
become a responsible adult. “I may even ask Rick to come, if we're still together.”