It wasn’t that long ago I had moved into my new place, but this room already seemed like a time capsule. I hadn’t slept there since the day I moved out. Come to think of it, I hadn’t even been in there. Sometimes it felt like I had moved out years ago—other times it felt like days. I wiped my finger in the dust on my dresser. Estelle made sure every room in the house was clean, except this one. What about Austin’s room, I wondered. Did she do her Martha Stewart thing in there? Probably. She had different rules for males and females.
I realized that I hadn’t changed any of the furniture since seventh grade or so. I remembered sitting in that purple beanbag chair when Josh, the guy who thought it was a good idea to give me cornbread for a birthday gift, broke up with me. His mom had told him that he needed to work on his grades, so if he wanted to pursue his supposed football career, he needed to keep his head clear and away from girls. I was fool enough to believe him. But he started dating one of the popular girls the very next day. Word around school was that he had dumped me for her. Seventh grade on really did a great job at progressing my insecurities.
That beanbag chair was the indoor equivalent of the porch swing, full of drama and dreamy memories. I bet there were a lot of teenage tears in that purple fabric.
My nightstand was stacked high with books. My econ textbook from my senior year of high school and the hardcover of You by Caroline Kepnes were collecting dust. I had bought another copy of You when I realized I’d left my copy at my dad’s and didn’t want to go back for a few days. Dad and Estelle hadn’t been married very long then, and I hated being around the newlyweds—I left every chance I got. That made two copies, three if you counted the audio. I bought that to hear the characters come to life in a voice other than my own. It was one of my favorite books and I always wanted to keep a copy at both houses. It was one of the few stories that my dad and I both loved. I reached for it and cracked open the spine. I could use the distraction.
YOU walk into the bookstore and you keep your hand on the door to make sure it doesn’t slam. You smile, embarrassed to be a nice girl, and your nails are bare and your V-neck sweater is beige and it’s impossible to know if you’re wearing a bra but I don’t think that—
When I heard the knock on the door, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Shit!”
“Karina?”
“WHAT?!” I sounded angry, like you do when you’re scared.
“Karina, are you all right?” It was Kael. “Can I come in?”
“Come in,” I said. I nodded too, though he likely couldn’t see me through the crack in the door. He entered slowly and, once inside, gently closed the door. The little click sounded so loud. So definite.
“You okay?” he asked as he walked toward me, stopping a few feet away from the bed.
I sighed. “Yeah,” I said, shrugging, closing my book.
“So do you always read at parties?”
When he said that, it reminded me of a book I’d read last year. I had a love-hate relationship with those books, but was currently waiting for the next one in the series. So, I was in love at the moment.
“I just … I don’t know. I got overwhelmed? That girl—” I raised my hand in the air, holding the book. “She heard me say that stuff and now Austin’s being a dick and she probably feels like shit.”
Kael nodded his head just a little. “You didn’t know she was going to walk up.”
“Still.”
“Try not to worry about it. I know you’re going to beat yourself up over it, that’s just who you are—”
“You know what?!”
Now he was the one who looked caught. It was clear that he hadn’t meant to say what he had. Or maybe he’d meant to word it differently. His mouth hung open a little.
“What do you mean that’s just who I am?” I accused. He better not have meant what I thought he did.
He took a breath. “I just meant that I know you worry about a lot, and you put a lot of pressure on yourself. A lot of blame.”
I wanted to stand up, to tell him to get the hell out of my room, but I sat there, holding tight to my book, keeping my legs crossed underneath me.
“And you know that how?” I asked, not really wanting to know what he was going to say. I had already become this girl to him, the one he needed to check in on, maybe take care of. I despised the idea of that.
No way was that going to be me.
No way was that me.
“Come on,” he pressed me. He no longer looked unsure about what he had said or would say; he looked annoyed.
“You’re acting like you know me. You’ve been around for what—a week? And half of that time you were MIA.”
“So it did bother you when I didn’t come back?” he asked.
Why was he talking so much all of the sudden? And how could I get him to stop?
“That doesn’t matter. My point is that you don’t know me, so don’t say that I’m doing something or being a victim or whatever.” My voice sounded screechy and dramatic.
“That’s not what I’m doing.” He sighed, rubbing his cheeks with both palms. “And I sure as hell didn’t say anything about you being a victim.”
“You said, ‘You put a lot of pressure on yourself.’”
“Never mind,” he said, defeated. “Forget I said anything.”
I felt so angry, so embarrassed and upset. I didn’t know I was directing all my feelings toward Kael. He came up to my room, I assumed, to check on me at the very least. That was a nice thing to do.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just frustrated and I’m taking it out on you. I guess this fits since I’m”—I hooked my fingers into air quotes—“always pissed.”
“I don’t think you should be too hard on yourself. People do shitty things. It’s what we’re made for,” he told me.
He was trying to change the subject and I was grateful because I felt like crap. Any sort of buzz that I was feeling was basically gone at that point, but Kael still looked different than he had before tonight, even without my vodka glasses.
“Humans are made to do shitty things? That’s depressing,” I told him. But I kind of liked the way it sounded, cynical as it was.
He sat down next to me on my bed and the metal frame creaked. He was too big for my bed. He looked like a grown man in a dollhouse. I felt like he was going to lecture me about something, maybe ask if I did my homework. His knowing eyes were focused on me, and in a rare occurrence, he didn’t look away or stare at the floor.
“That’s life,” he said. His eyes were still on me.
“Life is depressing?”
“Every life I’ve come across,” he replied.
I couldn’t disagree with him, though it made everything feel so heavy.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” I was the first to look away.
“You’re the one who told me that when the stars burn out, the good in the world dies.” He chuckled softly. “That’s the most depressing thing I’ve heard and I’ve seen and heard a lotttt.” He drew out the end of the word.
I laughed at that and looked into his eyes. He was a good head taller than me sitting down, and his black jeans and dark skin looked so nice against each another.
Kael’s hands moved to his leg and my tummy flipped, thinking that they’d move to me next, that he was going to touch me. But instead, he rubbed at the top of his leg.
“What’s wrong with your leg?” I asked him.
For all the voices downstairs, I couldn’t hear anything except the slowing of Kael’s breathing and the sound of the air conditioner vent blowing from the ceiling.
“It’s …” he started to say. I watched the words hesitate on their way out. “It hurts sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”
“Can I ask about it?” I asked while asking.
I remembered his first massage and how he kept his pants on the entire time, the way I thought I saw him limping, but couldn’t be sure.
“You don’t have to tell me. I could just … ma
ybe I could help, you know?” I told him.
He closed his eyes and didn’t say anything as the seconds passed.
“You don’t—” I started to tell him I was sorry for asking in the first place, but he leaned down and grabbed the bottom of his jeans and started to roll up the fabric.
It was such an intense moment, the air so still between us.
And then the silence was broken by the ringing of a cell phone. Kael’s cell phone. I jumped from the suddenness of it. Kael let go of his pants and stood up, pulling the phone from his pocket. His face changed as he stared at the screen, silencing the ringer. My heart was racing, beating inside of me.
“Everything okay?” I said.
His handsome face was distorted into a scowl as he looked at the number. He ignored the call. I thought a text popped up, but I couldn’t be sure. “Yeah,” he said.
I didn’t believe him.
He shoved the phone into his pocket and looked at me. My eyes went immediately to his right leg and he stepped back. Then he scanned the room like he was looking for something he couldn’t see.
“I … I, uhm. I have to go,” he stammered.
He moved so quickly, just like a soldier, and he opened my door before I could stop him. His name was stuck in my throat as he turned around to look at me, as if to say something. Our eyes locked for half a second before he seemed to change his mind and turned away from me. I didn’t know what to think about what had just happened. We had been so close. I had opened up to him and he was opening up to me … and then he was gone.
I was so overwhelmed with everything that I didn’t even understand why I burst into tears the moment he disappeared from view.
I WOKE UP WITH A HEADACHE like I’d never had before. My mouth was the inside of a hamster’s cage and my hands felt too big for my body. Even my hair hurt. I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow so that I wouldn’t have to open my eyes. I rummaged through the bedding to find my phone—when had I climbed into bed and under the covers?—and I felt the cool glass screen against my fingertips. Slowly, I turned over. Even more slowly, I opened my eyes.
Two missed calls and a “where r u?” text from Austin.
But of course, the person I was thinking of was Kael.
Great.
It was bad enough that he was the last person I thought of before I fell asleep. Did he have to be the first person I thought of when I woke up? I could picture him sitting there on the bed next to me. I could almost feel the impression his body made on the bed. And I could see his face as he walked out the door, leaving me behind.
I had to do something about this situation.
I had to keep away from this guy.
Where did he get off thinking that I would be there for him whenever he felt like showing up? Who did he think he was with this on-again, off-again bullshit? This guy was playing me with his So it did bother you when I didn’t come back? line. Of course it bothered me, Kael. Just like you knew it would.
Last night he had opened up, let down his guard, and let me inside. He talked. He listened. He laughed. And the way he started to roll up his jeans … We were getting so close, and then he turned back into the stranger Elodie’s husband happened to know.
I never wanted to see him again.
I needed to see him.
I didn’t want to know where he went last night.
I needed to know.
I should never have let him stay over that night Elodie brought him home. I should never have brought him to my dad’s for dinner. And I sure as hell should never have brought him to this party.
I didn’t like all this anger and regret. How dare he make me feel this way.
Lesson learned. Remind yourself about that, Karina, as you go about your day.
Shit! My day!
I had to work. I did a quick phone check for the time. It was nine and I had to be at work at ten. It didn’t matter that I felt like hell. No way could I get my shift covered on such short notice. Anyway, I needed the hours to pay that last cable bill, so I’d just have to suck it up. I was used to that. At least I didn’t have anyone scheduled until after lunch. I’d be the one taking walk-ins. That wouldn’t be so bad, though, because most new clients didn’t talk much at all during their first treatment. That was something, at least.
Rolling out of bed was the hard part. The first hard part, that was. After I did that—and it was more belly flop than roll—I shimmied into my pants, then my T-shirt. I pulled one of my vintage hair elastics off my dresser and stuck my hair in a ponytail, replaying the events of last night over and over in my head.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was starting to feel that addictive pull. Addicted. There was no other word for it. His beautiful face. His strong body. His confident voice. I loved the way he didn’t bother with small talk, as if he knew instinctively what was important. I could tell that the other guys looked up to him. But what else was going on. What was it that made him go from being just another guy at a party with a beer to a soldier, hyper-vigilant and on guard. What had Mendoza been trying to tell me about his boy?
Kael’s voice in my head was drowned out by the sound of my brother’s snores as I passed his room. I was glad he was asleep. I didn’t want to talk to him. Or anyone else for that matter. Just a quick pee and I’d—
“Oh crap! Oh … I’m so sorry. I had no idea anyone was in here.” I edged my way out of the bathroom, trying to avert my eyes. Did that just happen?
I backed out into the hallway, not knowing if I should leave or if I should wait until she came out. I was trying to figure out what the etiquette was in a situation like that when the bathroom door opened and Katie appeared.
“You sure know how to make an entrance, don’t you?” She had a toothbrush in her hand and her hair was brushed neatly to rest just above her shoulders.
“Hey, um, hi.” As if this wasn’t awkward as hell. “Hey, I’m sorry.”
“This is getting to be a habit with us. Me surprising you. You apologizing to me.” She laughed, then. I guess it was kind of funny. “Look, it’s okay,” she said. “Really. No harm done. I was caught off guard last night. By what you said, I mean.”
“Yeah, about that …”
“No, it’s okay. Really. Well, the stuff about me still being in high school wasn’t cool at all, but that other stuff, about your brother, you didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.”
“Wait. You mean …?”
“I’m not an idiot, Karina. I’ve heard a lot about your brother. But, just like you, I don’t listen to everything I hear.” The look on her face was a knowing one. Her blue eyes honed in on me. She certainly didn’t seem like a high school girl now. I didn’t know if it was the hangover or the shock of walking in on her like that, but, what the fuck?
“And that means?”
“Maybe another time, okay? It was a late night.” She paused to make an exaggerated stretch, causing the oversized tee shirt she was wearing to ride up high enough to show me that Nurse Katie was overdue for a bikini wax. “I’m tired and I really want to get back to bed. Besides,” she added, “it’s chilly in here.”
And with that she turned on her heels and went back to join my brother.
ELODIE WASN’T THERE WHEN I got home. I couldn’t remember if she had to work or not—I barely remembered that I had to work—and I didn’t pay attention to whether or not her car was in the driveway.
I took a quick shower, but I still felt like death when I got out. Brien used to keep a hangover kit in his dorm. Extra-strength Tylenol for a headache. Benadryl for puffiness. Pedialyte to replace essential minerals. And Alka-Seltzer to soothe the stomach. He was like a depraved Boy Scout, always prepared. What I wouldn’t give for a couple of Tylenol now. Leave the ex-boyfriend, take the meds. That sounded like a good plan. I searched the entire house, but came up empty-handed. I even fumbled through the drawer with the packets of soy sauce and chopsticks, just in case I’d find one of those little individual packets of Tylenol or Ad
vil in there. I wouldn’t even have cared if it was expired. No pills of any kind, but I did find an old fortune cookie which I cracked open.
You don’t need strength to let go.
All you need is understanding.
Actually, fortune cookie company, I really need some aspirin.
I made a cup of coffee and sat at my kitchen table, staring into space. My mom, my dad, Austin, Kael—every stressor in my life seemed to be weighing on me, hard. Tapping me on the shoulder, pulling the muscles in my back. I wanted to bang my head against the wall, to cry or scream and shout. But I had to leave for work and, as everyone kept reminding me, I was the responsible one.
Just do the next thing, I told myself. Put one foot in front of the other and do what needs doing. That’s how you’ll get through the day.
With that little pep talk in mind, I made my way out of the house, through the alley to the parlor. The doors were unlocked when I got there, the OPEN sign bright in the window. Mali was behind the desk, checking in a middle-aged man and woman for a couple’s massage. I was glad I came in as they were being escorted to the room so that I didn’t have to take them. She looked really excited about it. He looked annoyed, as if his wife had dragged him there to work on their relationship or something. You could always tell. That’s why couple’s massages were my least favorite thing. I’d rather rub a client’s thick, callused heels, and I really hated doing that.
“Good morning sweetie,” Mali said when she returned. “Or not so much?” she asked, her eyes searching my face. She could see always see right through me.
“Hangover,” I offered. I thought it was best to admit at least half of my problem.
She took in my wet hair, puffy face, and bleary eyes. “Hmm,” was all she managed.
It would be a long day if Mali, of all people, was getting on my nerves.
“Is Elodie here?” I asked. I couldn’t see the calendar from where we were standing.
“Yes, and on time,” Mali told me, nodding her head in approval and maybe making a little dig at me, but for what I couldn’t tell. My first client was at one.