“You are forbidden to ever think I am upset with you again! Unless I tell you, physically say to you ‘I’m upset with you,’ I never want you to even think I am anything but grateful,” she says, green eyes locking me in a trance. “I cannot fathom how you-" she breaks off crying again, then closes her eyes and regains her stability. “I cannot fathom how you dealt with feeling my pain. You’re so strong. You had to wait so long to feel better. I only waited a fraction of the time you had to,” she finishes, hand brushing through my hair before falling into her lap.
I am at a loss for words. If Katherine isn’t upset with me, then she must believe me; I knew she would. She’s such a fighter, but is truly consumed with self-loathing. It’s gotten better in the past two weeks, even more so with help from Rachel. I can’t tell her that part of my story, the part I know she won’t want to know, because the sun is sinking lower and lower in the peach sky and we should be heading home soon. There is always tomorrow, after all. The thought brings a blinding smile to my face.
“Tristan,” Katie whispers, and then pauses for a minute. “Can we head back? Before I pass out from information-overload,” she attempts to joke, but I can hear the seriousness behind her words.
I stand, and reach down to take her hand. “Absolutely,” I say, pulling her to her feet.
A beam of the setting suns’ rays settles on her face, and I see her green eyes sparkle, something they can’t do in the dark. I had wanted to get everything laid out on the table, so to speak. Today was going to be the day where she discovered everything about me; not just the detrimental things, but the insignificant things that make a human a person. The information I’m keeping secret, for now, will pop the bubble that I feel so secure in.
She keeps her fingers intertwined with mine as we walk over to Dino, who is grazing by a patch of berry bushes. I walk right up to him, unwillingly releasing Katherine’s hand and pull myself up. Scooting back, I lift her slight frame up with no struggle at all, and she is sitting in front of me on Dino, legs straddling the saddle.
We ride the first half of the ride in silence, which is awkward, unlike the quiet from our earlier trek. With Katherine not touching me, I feel on edge and guilty for not telling her what I know about her brother, but I bombarded her with enough information today.
“Tristan?” Katherine says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. I murmur a “huh” in my throat, and she continues after a moment. “You already knew my story when you met me. Why did you have me tell it?”
This is an easy one to answer. Once the questions get more detailed is when I’ll really squirm. She can’t know I’m in love with her; not yet. She would think I’m crazy, just chasing after a girl I’ve never actually met for two years, and expecting her to fall in love with me instantly. She doesn’t know of all the letters we’ve shared, although I didn’t know it was her I was writing to until she told me about David.
No, I will not confess my love for her so soon, with such a heavy secret on my shoulders.
“I wanted to hear it from you. I wanted confirmation that you trust me,” I answer simply, digging my feet into the horses’ sides, making Dino trot faster. “I didn’t want to push you into telling me, but at the same time, I wanted to hear you say it aloud, just to confirm what I already knew. Sometimes it’s nice hearing things out loud,” I finish, feeling foolish and immature.
To my surprise and delight, Katherine leans back into my chest, placing a quick kiss on my cheek before settling her head on my shoulder. I smile, thankful she can’t see my face, which undoubtedly has the goofiest grin imaginable plastered on it. I try to slow my breathing, which has quickened due to Katie’s proximity and the thrill of riding again, in an attempt to jostle her head as little as possible. It isn’t working, and my breaths come in hard gasps. It’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t move away from me.
She doesn’t. In fact, we stay this way the entire ride home, which is faster than before thanks to Dino’s quickened pace. We arrive at the barn just as the sun begins to disappear behind the hill, and I’m sad to have to leave Katherine after being so close to her all day. Her light has filled me, leaving a pleasant feeling of warmth in its wake. Shutting Dino into his stall, I walk across the barn and find Katherine sitting on the couch, eyes closed, lips whispering silent words into the empty air.
“All set,” I say, making her jump. Laughing, I apologize.
“I’d invite you to stay for dinner, but I’m not positive my aunt wouldn’t hit on you,” she says, eyes widening slightly when she finished talking, cheeks reddening an adorable shade of rose.
Catching her eye, I raise my eyebrows and smirk. “You think I’m attractive?” I tease, lightly bumping my shoulder against hers. She watches her feet as we walk, but I can see her cheeks flush even more.
Suddenly, she looks up at me, the setting sun leaving a glint of light in her big green eyes. “How do you know my aunt? I know it’s a small town, but you seemed awfully… comfortable with her horse today. Unless you’re just a horse whisperer,” she jokes, but the curiosity is practically dripping from her words.
I groan internally, not wanting to further elaborate on my story at the moment. “Why don’t we save the questions for another day, and just enjoy the walk,” I say, releasing her hand and slyly putting my arm around her tiny shoulders. I feel her relax, which makes me relax.
“Promise?” she says, looking up at me through thick, dark eyelashes. Every time she blinks, my heart flutters a little faster; she bats her eyes instead of blinks. I try to think about manly things, like football and cars, but I’m too content to pretend to be something I’m not. I just let the flutters fill me and revel in her presence.
“I promise,” I chuckle, feeling her arm wrap around my waist. I feel something seep into me; something I’ve never felt before. It’s a warmth, a sugary sweetness that makes my mouth water. “What’s up with this?” I think to myself, and just as I think the words, I know the answer.
It’s happiness; Katherine’s happiness.
Chapter 8
Katherine
Tristan walks up the front stairs with me, arm releasing my shoulders and hand grasping mine. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses it before stepping back onto the front lawn. I open the unlocked door, not taking my eyes off his.
“Thanks for… the fun ride,” I say lamely, unable to come up with something more creative. “Fun” was an understatement…
He smirks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Anytime, Katie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you want a ride to school?” he asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Stomach teeming with butterflies, I have to physically force myself to not jump up and down. Crossing my ankles, I lean against the doorframe. “Sure,” is all I can say without squealing like a five year old.
Tristan nods, winking a blue eye at me. “Pick you up at quarter after seven, ok?” I nod, letting my smile widen. “Well, until then, sweet dreams, Katherine,” he says, and then he turns on his heel and walks off towards the road. I didn’t realize he hadn’t brought a car here.
Spinning around in the doorway, I walk inside and shut the door just as the last ray of sun disappears from the sky, following Tristan down the road. I place a hand over my mouth, feeling my quickened breaths beat against my palm.
I’m emotionally exhausted, but the idea of closing my eyes seems crazy. There is too much to process that I haven’t even begun to think about. The fact that everything is falling into place so perfectly doesn’t seem real. My life isn’t like this; fairytales don’t happen to sinners like me. They happen to the pretty cheerleaders who are Mother Teresa’s great-great-granddaughters who haven’t been deemed mentally unstable.
Yet it is happening; my fairytale is coming true. Tristan is so much more than what he seems, and he seemed pretty great before I even really knew him. The fact that he and I were interconnected so deeply that God himself fashioned our souls into one entity was unfathomable. A happiness and peace so
ars so high in my heart that I feel like I will float away if a good wind sweeps in. I haven’t felt happiness like this in all my life, never before have I felt so light.
It’s as though my world has stopped its orbit in the solar system, bypassing the sun and every other planet in its path, making its way to its true destination. My world revolves around a new sun, a sun sent to me from the Lord himself to coat my world, not in darkness, but in light.
The tall, wooden grandfather clock in the dining room chimes seven times. I didn’t realize how much time Tristan and I spent on the hill today, but now that my mind is beginning to comprehend the situation, my human body begins to fail me once again. A wave of exhaustion rolls over me just as headlights streak through the window, painting the interior walls with artificial brightness. I squint before running down the hall and into the bathroom.
Not in the mood to talk any more, I rush to jump in the shower so Aunt Rachel can’t badger me with questions about my day. I wasn’t going to tell anybody about it, so she could just keep her questions to herself.
I stop scrubbing my hair, stunned with a sudden revelation. All day, I hadn’t felt anything out of place. Anything meaning… feelings. I felt nothing I wasn’t supposed to; no guilt, no jealousy, no overwhelming sadness. Nothing but pure contentment. My eyes widen slightly and I wonder why my punishment was revoked for the day. Usually, an errant thought would send me into a tizzy of knots and give me a stomach ache that would make the world go fuzzy.
It’s Tristan, I think. When he and I are together, our punishments balance the others; he feels my every feeling, but can make them go away by simply touching my hand. When he takes it away I’m free to feel happiness again, and that feeling seeps into him. That explains why he was so eager to touch me; he wanted to make himself feel better. Sure, I bet he wanted to make me more comfortable too, but now that I had a reason to doubt his kindness, I felt the familiar pangs of greed and sadness.
Greed is a funny thing; it tastes like a penny, if you were to lick it. It isn’t just a word to describe a self-centered person, either… No, it was a word to describe a person who wanted what they didn’t or couldn’t have. I wanted Tristan; I knew he was rightfully mine, in some way, but that didn’t mean I could just swoop in and take him.
A peculiar sensation washes through me, running over my skin like the hot water of my shower. It feels almost like… foam. I feel the need to close my eyes, and once I do, I see three words sprawled across my closed eyelids.
Love,
Betrayal,
Peace.
Call it intuition, inspiration, or wishful thinking, but I know these words will be somehow connected with Tristan. It makes sense; he floated into my life like a dandelion seed, planting rays of hope and promises of new beginnings. Two out of the three words I just saw made sense, but what was betrayal doing in there? Like a black sheep in a Shepard’s herd, it stood out to me the most, leaving a feeling of dread behind.
A fist pounding on the door jars my attention back to where I am and what I’m doing; aimlessly standing in the shower, daydreaming. Briefly, a flashback plays across my vision, and I can see my father’s fist pounding against the wall.
“Katherine, what in the hell are you doing in there? I got home an hour ago, girl! Come on out so we can chat,” Aunt Rachel yells so I could hear her over the roar of the running water.
“Okay!” I shout back, surprising myself. I’m not one to give unnecessary replies, and I could feel a smile creeping up on my face as I turned off the water and began to towel dry my curly locks.
Yes, things were changing. Quicker than I would’ve thought possible, I could feel the broken heart in my chest begin to mend.
* * *
Standing in front of my pathetic excuse for a closet, I wrack my brains for any reason as to why my uniform skirt would not be on its proper hanger. No, I’m not an obsessive-compulsive person, but if my skirt was missing, I would be forced to wear the horrible black dress-slacks as a Plan-B.
Aunt Rachel had gone to the barn about an hour ago to take care of the horses and I still haven’t told her of my day with Tristan. She had been to the barn last night and commented on the saddle being moved, but I simply shrugged it off and continued to eat. Knowing that she somehow knew Tristan bothered me, but simply because I hated unsolved mysteries.
Taking one final glance in my closet, I see the skirt buried beneath a sweatshirt, wrinkled and unwashed. I cuss under my breath, resigning myself to wearing those awful dress-pants. At seven fifteen, I run a brush through my hair, which is wavier than curly today. My green eyes stand out the most on my plain face, which is quite unremarkable if you ask me. I sigh, wondering what made me special enough to warrant a visit from God. Wondering what made me special enough to deserve a second chance… to deserve Tristan.
Three knocks signaled on the front door, making me run down the hall, feet barely touching the floor. I force myself to take a deep breath before opening the door, but I can’t wait another second to see his face.
I am not disappointed. His light blonde hair seems to be growing precariously longer as the day’s pass; I usually notice little details like this about people. Blue eyes sparkling, wearing his worn leather jacket over his school uniform, he looks like a dark, dangerous angel as the sun casts its rays upon his handsome face. Butterflies form in my stomach as I realize that he is, truly, an angel in a bad boy disguise.
“Good morning,” he drawls, breaking my stare with his charming smile.
“Hi,” I say lamely, a blush creeping up on my cheeks. “Um, let me grab my backpack and then we can go.”
Tristan nods and I run across the room to get my bag, turning on my heel and walking back to the door. He hasn’t moved from his spot on the porch, and as we descend the stairs he holds his hand out to me. His beautiful face is silhouetted against the sun, making his strong, square jaw look even more appealing. Instead of taking his hand, I find myself cocking my head and simply staring at him.
He laughs nervously, obviously confused at my current fixation. Unable to avert my eyes, I hear God’s words ring through my head once more; “Keep your eyes open, Katherine, because he is not an angel in your sense of the word.”
“Tristan, there’s something you’re not telling me,” I say as he opens the passenger door to his black Chevy. He offers me his hand again and this time I take it, but realize it’s just there to help me climb into the tall, rusty truck.
I watch as he walks leisurely around the front of the vehicle and climbs into the drivers’ side and starts the engine. We make it halfway down my long driveway before he speaks again.
“And what makes you think that?” he says, patiently, but not denying my statement.
“Besides the fact that you told me?” I say, and he smirks, casting a sarcastic glance at me. “I was told my angel wouldn’t look like an angel; that I wouldn’t expect him to be who I was looking for,” I say, trailing off, unable to form coherent thoughts with his smile momentarily dazing me.
“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Tristan jokes, “But maybe He didn’t mean physically, Katie. To anybody else, I’m no angel.”
“You’re mine,” I say, interrupting him without thinking. I just couldn’t stop myself; if he was an angel for anybody else, I would go insane with jealousy.
He chuckles and leans over to plant a quick, sweet kiss on my cheek, making my heart beat furiously and cheeks burn bright with satisfaction.
“That I am. Thank you for that,” he says, holding my hand on his lap. “But what I meant was, to everyone else, I’m bad news. I’m glad you got to see me before you heard everyone else’s opinions; that’s a blessing in itself.”
I squeeze his hand. No one has said anything to me about Tristan, but mostly more than half the school left the day I arrived here. Gone for the past two weeks on a class trip to Germany, I was left with only a few peers who were either deadbeats who didn’t even try conversing with me, or on academic suspension and we�
�re allowed on the trip. I hadn’t felt the need to make friends with those left behind. Scott and the girls who originally tormented Tristan in the garden were touring the streets of Berlin, out of sight and out of mind. That is, until today.
We pull into the student parking lot to find it jam packed with fancy looking cars; all colors, all makes and models, but most of them very swanky looking. I thought I heard Tristan cuss under his breath, but he remained as stoic as ever.
“Looks like the trip is over,” I say, looking out the windows at the swarm of people milling about, all dressed in similar shades of gray and maroon.
Tristan just looks straight ahead, the corner of his mouth twitching. He pulls into the parking space closest to the door, and I’m surprised it’s not taken already.
“No matter what you hear, please don’t listen,” he says, voice so desperate I’m forced to look at him. His blue eyes are pained, but his face doesn’t hint at any emotion at all. Again, I feel a brief moment of happiness that I don’t need to feel such obtrusive things when I’m with him.
I touch his tanned cheek with my free hand, feeling his smooth, unblemished skin under my fingertips. He visibly relaxes; his shoulders slump forward and upper-back releases its tension. He turns his face and kisses my palm, sending an embarrassing shiver through my body.
“I won’t have a chance to listen if I’m with you all day,” I say, winking, reaching for my backpack at my feet. I catch Tristan smiling to himself with a faint flush on his cheeks, which is so adorable I release a giggle.
“I think I could deal with that. Don’t even think about opening that door,” he says, pointing to my hand on the door handle.
I give him a confused look, to which he just laughs. In the next moment, he’s opening it for me and helping me down. I look up at him through my eyelashes, weakly making an attempt at looking flirtatious, which is pathetic. Instead of laughing at my stupidity, he smirks, causing my stomach to flip.
Pieces of a Mending Heart Page 8