Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

  “Well,” Mr Pringle cleared his throat. “I’m here to provide counsel and guidance to all the students at Parkwood, but I’m not really sure I can do much in this instance, now that the police are involved,” he shrugged.

  My hand was itching to be on my hip, but I resisted the urge by clasping them together instead. “Has anyone called his caseworker, or his therapist, or his attorney, or Coach Ray even, or just — I don’t know — any adult that cares more about Dominic than the situation he’s in?”

  “Those aren’t standard issue you know,” Ryan informed, softly.

  “I’m afraid Coach Ray isn’t here today,” Ms. Joan informed, like she’d already thought of it. “But Mr. Howard, and Mrs. Stephens, and Ms. Lewis are with him.”

  (Principal, Vice Principal, and School Counselor, respectively.)

  “Does Dominic have a case worker?” Mr. Pringle asked, looking nervous, his eyes settling on the officer who’d just returned from his office. I didn’t care for the way he was saying case worker, as if the term had cooties. “Tony, are you aware of Dominic having a case worker?” he repeated to officer Cooper.

  Officer Cooper shook his head. “I know every kid in this school with a record. Weedon’s clean as far as I know.”

  “Not that kind of case,” I closed my eyes to hide the roll. “I mean a social worker.”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Officer Cooper shook his head. “But if his case isn’t considered active there’s no reason for me to know about it. They did ask if there was anyone he wanted to call, he said no.”

  “Of course he did. Dominic doesn’t ask for help, he’s had to rely on just himself for so long, that’s how he thinks it has to be.”

  Principal Howard’s door opened and another uniformed police officer stepped out. He was a few years older than officer Cooper. His hair was thinner, his middle thicker. I didn’t even try to get a glimpse of Dominic, I knew it would just upset me. “Have the grandparent’s arrived yet?”

  “I put them in Mr. Pringle’s office,” Cooper gestured. “There’s been a development.”

  “A development,” the other officer said, his tone flat.

  “The elder Mr. Weedon identified these two as accomplices when he arrived, and then the young lady claimed that Grandpa killed the grandson’s dog.”

  “It’s a theory. But he didn’t deny it,” I added

  The officer turned toward me, his name badge said Streminski. “Accomplices? I take it that means friends?”

  “Yeah. I’m Ryan, this is Katie,” Ryan put his hand out to the officer, who opted not to shake it. “And we’re both super confused about how it’s possible for someone to steal their own vehicle.”

  Officer Streminski nodded. “You the two that went out with Dominic Friday night?”

  Ryan and I both answered that we were.

  “Either of you see him or have any communication with him after that?”

  “Just today, in class,” Ryan offered.

  “Uhm. He texted me a couple times.” I admitted,

  “What’d you talk about?”

  “We talked about hanging out on Friday and his birthday and food. He likes to send me pictures of what he eats,” I shrugged.

  “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s it.”

  Officer Streminski excused himself and returned about ten seconds later with Vice Principal Stephens, who was clearly in a mood, or in no mood, whichever one of those meant she was completely not interested in anything we had to say. “What are you two doing here?” Her words came out so fast it was hard to catch what she was saying. Worse, her question was rhetorical. Before either of us could say anything she speed-blurted, “This doesn’t concern you. Mr. Pringle, Officer Cooper. Will you please escort these two to room three?”

  “Is that really necessary?” Mr. Pringle asked.

  “It’s there or suspension,” she offered.

  “What’s in room three?” I asked.

  Mrs. Stephens glared at me. “It’s a place where you can contemplate your choices in life. Get it done,” she snapped, figuratively. And then she disappeared back into Principal Howard’s office.

  I turned to Ms. Joan. “Am I supposed to feel good about her being in there with Dominic?”

  Ms. Joan frowned.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Room three is detention, with Mr. Grady. And one very surprised looking delinquent — Annabelle. Not that she was the only other person in there, she was just the only one who reacted with surprise. Everybody else in the room barely even glanced in our direction, though one kid in the back did point, laugh and say, “classic.”

  “Hey, Chuck, I brought gifts.” Officer Cooper said to Mr. Grady.

  Everything about Mr. Grady looked like he was calling it in, from his salt and pepper curly hair that looked like he stepped out of the shower and let it air dry without having ever touched it, to his worn for comfort gym shoes that were held on with twisty spiral laces.

  “Yay,” Mr. Grady said through a mouthful of sandwich. “Take a seat,” He said without looking up from his sandwich. “I’ll get to the paperwork after lunch.”

  “There’s no paperwork on these two yet,” Officer Grady informed.

  “If you could just keep an eye on them, until I come back.” Mr. Pringle added.

  Mr. Grady shook his head. “Oh yeah. Yep. You betcha. Sure thing.” He threw in a thumbs up then took another bite of his sandwich.

  “Thanks, Chuck,” Officer Cooper said as they left.

  As soon as they were gone Annabelle stood. “What the fuck is this? A joke? Why are you two here? Somebody catch you with a cock in your mouth?” she sneered at me.

  “Annabelle,” Mr. Grady growled. “Don’t make paperwork for me.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Grady,” she said.

  “Sing it don’t say it,” Grady said between bites.

  Annabelle’s tone fluctuated with each syllable as she sang: “I am sorry! Mr. Grady!”

  “This is not what I thought detention would be like,” Ryan said.

  Mr. Grady laughed. “I usually use standing as a form of punishment, but if that’s how you want to spend your time here, can you not do it right next to my desk, please and thank you?”

  Ryan started for a nearby table. I started for Annabelle, on a hunch. A probably-totally-wrong-but-I-had-to-try, hunch. “You heard them call Dominic to the office?”

  “Duh,” she rolled her eyes. “Everybody did.”

  “His grandpa is trying to have him arrested for stealing his truck.”

  “Dominic’s truck?” she clarified.

  “Yeah.”

  “No way,” she looked doubtful. “His dad left him that truck.”

  “Please tell me you know the name of Dominic’s therapist.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “So what if I do?”

  “Dominic needs somebody — an adult somebody,” I amended “to be on his side and in there with him. We tried,” I waved a hand toward Ryan, “and now we’re in here.”

  Annabelle pulled out her phone. “Lucky it’s still lunchtime,” she huffed.

  She held the phone to her ear looking bored. I thought I heard someone answer and then Annabelle rolled her eyes and said. “It’s not me this time, it’s Dom.” It’s just the way she says it — I swear she said Tom. There was a pause and then. “His gramps is having him arrested.” A pause. “Yep.” Another pause. “I don’t know.”

  “May I?” I asked with my hand out.

  “Hold on, Dommy’s stalker wants to talk to you.” Totally sounded like Tommy. She handed me her phone.

  “Hi, is this Dominic’s therapist?”

  “Yes, this is Dr. Reid.”

  “I’m Dominic’s friend, Kat—Kate— Katie,” I stammered. “It’s Katie, Dominic’s friend. And Annabelle’s friend too,” I added, flustered.

  “It’s okay, Katie, take your time.”

  I took a breath. “I’m sorry to interrupt your workday, but I know Dominic relies on
you and I know you’re helping him and I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “You know what’s going on with Dominic?”

  “He’s being detained in the Principal’s office right now, in handcuffs. Whatever’s behind that is irrelevant and most likely complete nonsense. My biggest concern is that Dominic — three whole days into adulthood — is having to go it alone against a room full of authority figures, without a single adult advocating on his behalf, especially one willing to stand up for him. Please tell me I made the right call, or that you know the name of his caseworker, uhm, social worker,” I revised, “or his attorney. Oh, maybe I should call an attorney next?” I said half thinking out loud.

  “Katie,” Dr. Reid interjected. “You made the right call. Im not far; I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are you still in the office?”

  “No. They sent us to detention. Room three.”

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  The next 27 minutes were basically agony as I waited, and paced.

  “We have an area for pacing,” Mr. Grady pointed toward the windows. “It’s fun to see how the floor wears, “ he took a break from his sandwich to sip on his drink.

  “Babe, it’s going to be okay,” Ryan said.

  I stopped pacing. “Did you just call me Babe?”

  Ryan made a face. “I was just trying it on.”

  “Not a good fit.”

  “Not really, no,” he agreed.

  “Oh my shit!” Annabelle’s chin was practically on the floor. “Are you guys dating!?” she screeched.

  “Annabelle, volume,” Mr. Grady grumbled.

  Ryan shot her a smile, full high beams — I mean dimples. “We’re keeping it casual.”

  Annabelle’s expression was pure disgust as she looked back and forth between us. “I don’t get it.”

  Ryan sighed and twisted himself toward Annabelle. “I’m guessing, if you took the time to get to know her, you would.”

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Doubt it.”

  The bell rang some time after that and a couple of kids left to go to their next class, including Annabelle, but most stayed. We stayed.

  Eventually, Mr. Pringle appeared, and he was smiling. “Come with me, you two.”

  “Nice babysitting ya,” Mr. Grady said as we left.

  Mr. Pringle wasn’t walking fast enough for me. Sprinting would have been a good pace, and Mr. Pringle looked like he might be a runner, he was lanky and spry, but I doubted he’d go for it. Room three wasn’t that far from the office — third classroom down the first hall — and I had no idea what we were even heading toward, but I had a lot of pent up energy, a lot of need to see Dominic, and I had to hope that Mr. Pringle’s smile meant good things.

  The office looked basically the same as when we’d left it, minus Officer Cooper, and Ms. Joan was eating a yogurt.

  “Where’s Dominic?” I asked Ms. Joan.

  “He’s fine, dear,” she smiled at me.

  Totally not an answer to my question. Fine is a relative term. Technically he’d been fine all day, including the time he was detained and put in handcuffs! And then, there was yelling. Someone in Principal Howard’s office was actually yelling. No way that was a good sign — Especially considering Ms. Joan and Mr. Pringles shocked reactions to the commotion behind door number two. Ms. Joan averted eye contact and Mr. Pringle shrugged.

  “Oh, what the — what?” I remembered I was standing in the office and redirected my comment to avoid another scolding in this whole cluster-what.

  “Hey,” Ryan pulled me close. “You okay? You look like you’re going to pop.”

  “I might,” I admitted.

  “You need to relax.”

  “How?” I met his cool blues, pouting.

  “I don’t know, breathe? What do you usually do?”

  “Julian helps,” I admitted.

  “I can help, tell me what to do.”

  “Uhm… well…” I thought about it. “I don’t know. He gets all commanding and he tells me to like, only look at him, and makes me tell him ‘it’s just us’ or that ‘I’ll always be his’ and he kisses me.”

  “Okay, that’s… wow,” Ryan took a breath. “As much as I would love to kiss you right now… Or Julian,” he admitted. “Okay,” he took both my hands in his. “Look at me.”

  “Okay,” I looked up at him. My eyes darted toward the principals door, then back to Ryan.

  “No,” Ryan let go of my hands, and took hold of my face, his thumbs gently caressing my cheeks, and stood close. “Look at me. Just me,” his tone became more firm, but soft somehow too.

  I locked my eyes on his.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he soothed.

  I wanted to believe but—

  “Say it,” he ordered, practically demanded.

  Cue tummy tingles galore. Yep, I definitely have a thing for dominant men. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I repeated.

  “I believe you,” Ryan cracked a half smile. Mm, those dimples! And then he leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the corner of my mouth.

  Ms. Joan tsk’d, “Children.”

  “What are you going to do, send us to detention?” Ryan shot her a wink and a smile and she pursed her lips trying to hide her own smile, because Ryan is ridonkulously charming like that. “Hold on to me,” he offered me his hand, which I took.

  “How come you’re not freaking out?” I asked.

  “I am,” he lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m just better at internalizing it.”

  Eventually, (like, less than 30 seconds later) the door to Principal Howard’s office opened and Dominic, escorted by two men I’d never seen before stepped out. One was tall and broad with sandy blond hair and green eyes, probably in his 40s. The other was older, with a medium build, dark brown hair and dark eyes. One of them was probably Dr. Reid. Dominic looked relieved as he stepped out of the office — right up until he saw Ryan and I. Then, his entire being fell directly into anxiety-ville. He didn’t know exactly what we knew, but for his comfort, we knew too much.

  “Are you Katie?” the man with brown hair asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Curtis Manning, DCFS. I just wanted to say thanks for looking out.”

  “Wait. What?” Dominic looked at me in horror. I imagined it as the exact same face he’d make when he discovered my actual identity.

  “So is everything actually okay now?” I asked.

  Mr. Manning nodded.

  “Wait,” Dominic put his hand out, beyond stressed. “You’re the one that called?” his voice pitched.

  “No,” I put my hands up. “That was Annabelle.” The panic in his face eased some, but not entirely. “I did most of the talking,” I admitted. “But, Annabelle made the call.” I could see his wheel box turning, putting things together and I hoped he’d jump to the non-anxiety inducing conclusions.

  “Okay,” he nodded, calming some. “Okay.”

  “Are you okay though?” I stepped forward and grabbed his wrist and started rubbing them between my hands.

  “What are you doing?” Dominic asked.

  “I don’t know. Freaking out?” I wrapped my arms around his middle and hugged him tight. “I saw you, earlier, and I basically lost it. I’m not a ninja, I don’t know how to pick handcuffs, and we were totally outnumbered. I hate when you’re not okay.”

  Dominic chuckled and patted me on the back. “You worry too much.”

  “Shut up.” I hugged him tighter. “That’s not a thing.”

  “Okay,” he laughed and hugged me back — and it was everything that amazing is. “Can we get out of here now?”

  “Yes.” A second later I realized I would need to let go of Dominic in order to leave the office. I took a step back and motioned toward the door. “After you.”

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Dear Diary,

  Sometimes drama finds you — and you can’t run from it. And sometimes, you don’t want to, because all the terrible happening before you is
happening to someone you’re not willing to walk away from. Today I learned that Dominic Weedon isn’t someone I’m willing to walk away from.

  I guess I do drama now.

  -Kat

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  Dominic gave us a rundown while we ate lunch at one of his and Ryan’s regular haunts. This place didn’t have garlic fries, but they did have cake slices big enough to be considered entire cakes themselves; in my opinion. Its backside was bigger than my phone, and I have a pretty big phone. I also learned that Dominic prefers vanilla cake with white icing. Sweets aren’t really my thing, but that would be my first pick too.

  And as Dominic relayed his horrible awful weekend to us, I wondered if he would ever mention it to the phone version of me. Or if he’d have mentioned anything to anyone if we hadn’t intentionally involved ourselves.

  When Dominic got home from his evening out with us, his gramps was waiting up to kick him out. So, Dominic gathered his things, put them in his truck and left. He drove to his work. He told his boss he’d take all the extra shifts he could get and spent the rest of the weekend working, and sleeping in his truck — or at least trying, it was freezing cold out so he parked his truck in the warehouse, where it’s a little bit warmer, but he was still trying to sleep in a public place, crunched on a small, albeit padded, bench.

  Sometime Saturday, when Gramps realized Dominic wasn’t there to do all the things Dominic normally did around the place, he called the police and reported that Dominic had stolen his truck. The cops went to his house and took a report, but stolen vehicles, especially those not worth much, aren’t really a priority.

  Then Monday came and Gramps called the cops again, this time with a hot tip about where his stolen property, and the ungrateful criminal who took it, could be found. Being across the street, and with all Gramps fervor, they decided to look into it.

  The thing is, the truck really is Dominic’s and only Dominic’s, but his gramps had given Dominic’s dad some money for the downpayment, and had housed the truck on his property until Dominic was old enough to drive it, so he thought that gave him some rights to it. He also thought that kicking Dominic out didn’t free him from the obligation of helping him out.