Black and White

by Ludivig, K. R.

  “It was good. And I’m glad you feel that way about the ninth.” He looked relieved.

  I walked out the door, relieved and was suddenly seized by a masculine grasp. Zack was pissed; to emphasize this, he threw me up against the nearest stone wall. My head hit hard.

  “If you ever embarrass me like that again,” his hand came to my neck, “I will make you bleed.” His lips were in my ear.

  “That won’t be hard.” I said quietly in his ear.

  “Do I make myself clear? Now listen to me you rich bitch,” his tone less harsh now. “The party was an accident, I didn’t mean for that to happen to you, I --” I cut him off.

  “You didn’t mean for that to happen? I woke up at a random kid’s house and didn’t know what happened to me? You left me. You --” I felt the sudden blow to my head. Zack punched me in the eye. I felt a sudden throbbing behind my pupil, like sledgehammer to the head, every time my heart decided to beat.

  “I want to make it up to you.” He spoke as if he never hit me.

  “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to ask me something like that, due to the content of this conversation,” I replied. “Get away from me.” I attempted at pushing him away. This inside-Katie’s-bubble thing was not working out for me. It was inside my personal space. I didn’t even let my mom get this close to me. His hands began on my waist from here. I couldn’t believe this. I struggled against his tight grip while his other hand slid up my blouse from beneath my skirt, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY.

  “I’ll pick you up tonight.” He replied to my obvious discomfort. “You’ll meet my family.” The way he said the word family put me on edge. I didn’t want to meet anyone close to him.

  “Get off me you creep!” I struggled again, failing against his titanium grasp. “I don’t want to meet anyone that’s related to you.”

  “I’ll come get you at seven at the dormitory.” His voice lowered to an attempt at calming seduction. He was standing on both of my feet so I couldn’t kick him and his left hand on my breast now. I had that gross, tingly feeling that made me know that he was a creep and part of me knew I had to run away and fast before he did something else in the hallway.

  And then he hit my left shoulder to the wall, he let my arms and toes free and took off down the hall. When I kicked lose, I hit a professor and Zack was gone.

  “Miss White!” she said.

  “I apologize Professor, I didn’t see you.” I ran to my room to pack some stuff to go home, scared for my life.

  That night I took a shower in wonder if he’d find me. I put my car in the garage, so he couldn’t see it. I got out of the shower and found my parents had both left and the help was elsewhere. I was alone and unable to defend myself, had he come looking. After a few hours of being completely out of my mind paranoid, I sat on the couch in the upstairs den to watch TV. I decided I was at home and it was alright to relax, that I’d be safe here.

  My cell phone sat on the couch next to me. I got a message. I ignored it until the person texting me was blowing up my phone. Then they began calling me.

  “UGH!” I said aloud. “Leave a voicemail!”

  Finally, they did.

  The rap on the downstairs door is what gave me the chills. I was sure it was locked. I left the TV on, grabbed my phone and ran to my room. I locked my door as well, closing my blinds and shades on my windows and keeping a safe distance between any entrance and myself. I hid myself in my closet, all lights off in my room except my phone.

  I heard footsteps in the house. Someone came up the staircase and picked the lock on my door. I saw the light turn on and felt the wind of the closet door open.

  “Come on Katie! Don’t you know that the girl who hides in the closet during horror movies dies first?” Zack said.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked nonchalantly but protectively. I was once named best actress in my class when we were in eighth grade. Still I was scared shitless.

  “Bringing you to meet my family of course.” He replied, matter-of-factly. “We don’t want to miss dinner.”

  “I won’t go.” I replied.

  “Yes you will.”

  I was in my pajamas when he carried me to the McLaren. He sat me in the car and slammed the door on my foot without shoes, my cell phone on vibrate in my hands.

  In his car, he took one of my hands from me and gave me that look, that he had something bad planned. It was getting darker the closer into the mile we went. Not something normal. I tried not to sound fearful.

  “Zack, where are we going?”

  “To meet my family, where else?”

  “Okay? Don’t they live just up the road from me?” This was not true. Zack’s parents and mine always congregated a mile up the road from me, not here in this dump.

  “No,” he said, “they live up here.” He pulled in between two shattered buildings in the mile, where I’d seen Chris for the first time while driving my Bentley. We were in the mile and it was dark, I hoped that someone I knew was here. Chris’s friends I remembered from the party, because I was scared.

  Zack held my hand tightly, not daring to let go. I was afraid he would break it with his grip. He’d already given me two hand shaped bruises on my biceps, one bruise beneath my bracelet too and a black eye. Was he going to break my wrist?

  Zack walked with me up to a group of people who looked to be friends, mostly males but there were a few females dancing sexily around their men. We were in high school? Did people really do that? I looked around the group, I recognized none of them in the dark. The one that stood to my left stood with such poise, such patriotism. His hair spiked. I realized instantly who it was. Zack must have planned this, because Chris knew I liked his hair like that.

  “Z’” said the tallest, the most intimidating, the one that looked like a leader. Marcus, I presumed, was the one Chris told me about last night. “Who’s this? This little thing?”

  “Her name is Katie,” he replied “Katie White.” He held me up so I was barely touching the ground. If he threw me, I’d fall on my face.

  Chris looked down at his phone, and moved beside me. I trusted him there. But seeing as that he was a guy, he was probably looking at my ass. I turned my head slightly, I’d predicted right.

  “So Katie,” Marcus said to me. “Where are you from?”

  Even though Chris reassured me that Marcus wouldn’t hurt me, because he was obviously against hurting women, I was still scared. My phone in my pocket vibrated. I just looked at it.

  “What are you looking at?” Marcus asked me.

  “My phone vibrated,” I replied, unsteadily. “It's in my pocket.”

  “Why don’t you get it then?” he asked me. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised in expectation. Did I look like I would do a trick? Chris said Marcus put on a face that was intimidating for others but he was honestly a good guy.

  “Okay,” I said, reaching into my pocket, afraid that I would have a gun pulled on me. I opened my phone. I had a text from Chris. Marcus pulled his phone out too. Coincidence?

  “Who’s it from?” Zack asked me.

  “Yeah, like I’ll tell you.” He reached for my phone and while holding me up he couldn’t reach at the same time so I fell at Chris’s feet. Chris just looked down at me.

  Don’t be afraid of them. All they want to do is--- said his message and that’s all I got before my phone fell out of my hands and rolled near Marcus’s feet. Marcus picked up my cell phone and handed it back to me. I acknowledged his facial expression. Something along the lines of

  “Hey Zack. I’ve got an idea,” said Marcus. He walked over to Zack from across the circle and whispered in Zack’s ear. He laughed as if we really were in a movie, a cheesy horror one where the audience knows what’s going to happen to the poor innocent thing sitting on the ground at the big, bad guys feet like food, prey almost.

  “Alright. I like it. Much better than the idea I had. Chris, you take her. You have work to do, if you know what I mean. Initiation you said Marcus?�
�� he asked across the circle again.

  Marcus nodded. “I’ll keep the phone so she can’t call for help.”

  “We could at Chris’s house. You’re mom’s not home right?”

  Chris nodded.

  “Let’s go Katie!” He said guiding me to his car.

  “Put me down!” I screeched.

  “Chris!” said Zack.

  “Yeah man!” Chris spun around wildly.

  “Don’t get her pregnant. None of you get her pregnant.”

  “You got it.” Chris acted and walked us out to his neon. Once out of sight of Zack, he opened the door and set me down in the passenger side. His hand touched my face and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

  “Be quiet for now, Angel.” He called me.

  He got into the other side of his car and drove off to his house.

  “What happened to you?” he asked in the dim light from the car, realizing my eye.

  “Zack tends to get violent.”

  “I’m going to kick his ass,” Chris said, focusing on the road but clearly imagining giving severe pain to Zack. I saw lights behind us. Was he following us?

  “He doesn’t even know I know you.” I said. “He knows nothing of our act.” I spoke of it as if it were a masterpiece.

  “Oh my god, when your eyes tear up like that it took all the strength I had to hold myself back from picking you up and holding you.” He confessed. “I felt so bad.”

  “Why? I was acting.”

  “I don’t know. Even though I don’t cause it, I still feel bad.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “Shhh. No one knows that.” I laughed.

  “So what are we supposed to do?” I asked him as he pulled up to his house, the car pulled in behind us. “Did he follow us?” I asked super scared-like.

  Chris laughed. “No. It’s Marcus. He has your phone.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, hearing my stomach growl. “I could make you something. What do you want?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. He pulled open the door and led me around the side of his garage and into the house. Marcus came in and sat down on the couch.

  “Thanks man.” Chris said.

  “Thank you.” I replied and smiled.

  “You are most welcome Miss White.” He said and kissed my forehead. Weird for a guy that walks and talks and looks like a badass to do. “Take care of her.”

  “My mom has some left over roast in the fridge. Want some?”

  I nodded eagerly, forgetting the conversation with Marcus and ran into the house after him. He fixed me a plate and I ate while he cleaned up his room, ashamed of the mess.

  “So what are your friends’ names?” I asked him as he appeared in the kitchen and sat down next to me. I got up, washed my dishes without thinking and sat back down.

  “Katie! Don’t do that!”

  “Why not?” I asked, already finished.

  “You’re the guest.”

  “Who cares?”

  A moment later it was quiet, I was gazing at him.

  “What’s your favorite color?” he asked me.

  “Purple.” I confessed. “What’s yours?”

  “Red.”

  “Not black?” I said, referring to his wardrobe. He shook his head. “Favorite car?” I assumed it was a joke because men don’t normally ask women that. Especially if they look as much like a girl as I do.

  “Lamborghini Murcielago.”

  “No way, the Gallardo is so much better looking,” I said “and besides the Lamborghini is for pussies, Ferrari has much faster cars, even if the Enzo looks like an overdone Maserati.”

  He just sat there in awe. “You know cars?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s your favorite then?”

  “Bugatti Veyron.”

  “A what?”

  “You wouldn’t know it. It’s a European car, illegal in the United States.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s way too fast.”

  “How fast does it go?”

  “250 mph +,” I said, pausing, changing the subject. “Where’s your mom and step-dad?”

  “Out to eat probably.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  It was quiet for another moment.

  “Besides the Bugatti Veyron, if you could have any car what would it be?”

  “A bright yellow Saleen Raptor.”

  “Really?” he sounded surprised. “I always thought you looked like a Bentley girl myself.” I didn’t say anything but my cheeks blushed.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I know there’s something going through that beautiful little head of yours, what is it?”

  Beautiful? I asked myself. Did he really just say that?

  “Katie.” His warning voice was cute. I looked into his eyes. They were hard to say no to.

  “I have a Bentley.”

  “Model? Color?”

  “Continental GT Coupe and its purple.” I said, embarrassed.

  “The glamorous midnight purple? O-M-G!” he spelled in a feminine voice. I was a little grossed out. I shivered. He laughed.

  “Do you like Monster?”

  “Yes! Are you kidding? I love Monster!”

  “Come here.” He showed me to the room I’d already slept in.

  Before now, I didn’t realize how much his room reminded me of the one I’d pictured in my dreams. The one I wanted, but wasn’t allowed to have.

  “Wow!” was all I could manage. His room was filled with Monster cans, posters and even ones with girls in thongs. “Oh I like this.” I said pointing to the one with a monster cans in the thong of the girl. I just smiled widely.

  “Are you bisexual?” I had only heard people say it the shortened way. What was it with that school he went to?

  “Yes and I don’t like that word.” I replied.

  “Well what do you call it then?”

  “Half-gay.”

  He snorted.

  “Thanks.” I pouted, sad-like and such.

  “Katie I’m sorry.” He said coming near me. I let him grasp me. He smelled so good.

  “Mmm…” I admired, letting a moan escape my lips. He backed away. Not two seconds before this he had been the one holding me up.

  “What?” I fell.

  “Katie?” he said confused. “What happened?”

  “I melted.” I said, covering the fact that I couldn’t stand.

  He plopped me down on his three foot high bed after picking me up off the floor with ease. He plugged in his Zune and sat down on the recliner beside the bed.

  “I like your room,” I said.

  “Me too,” he agreed.

  “I’d hope so, it’s your room.” I pointed out the obvious.

  “Smartass,” he commented.

  “If it weren’t for us smartasses you dumbasses wouldn’t have anyone to look up to.” I replied. It rolled right off the tip of my tongue. I’d heard my dad say that to my mom ever a thousand times.

  He was speechless. I just smiled brightly as he got up to tower over me.

  “Katie,” said his angel’s voice.

  “Yes Christopher?”

  “May I kiss you?”

  “Would you like it?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then no.” I backed further up on his bed. He was struck with awe. It was quiet a moment.

  “I doubt I want to hear this but…” I paused, thinking that the worst he could say to this was no.

  “What?”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Yes.” He said, point blank.

  “Really?” I asked, a little too overjoyed at the fact.

  He nodded.

  I was so overjoyed, I bounced to the place where I had been on the bed and grasped his cheeks in my hands. I pressed his cool lips to mine.

  “Mmm…” I sighed, moaning just a little.
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  We made kissing sounds with our lips. Then we parted. I smiled brightly, feeling my face hot.

  “I thought I wasn’t allowed to kiss you,” he said.

  “I kissed you, duh!” I attempted at an almost funny joke that I loved.

  He smiled. It was so irresistible. It was good I was sitting down or I’d be on the floor.

  “You’re adorable.” I said randomly.

  “You’re beautiful,” he replied, admirably.

  “There’s that word again.” I said aloud. “Why do you say that?”

  “Say what?”

  “Beautiful?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “But you’re not calling me hot.”

  “Would you rather I called you hot?”

  “No I just…” I stopped.

  “What?”

  “No one’s ever called me beautiful before.”

  “You couldn’t have met many decent men then or any real men at all.” He finished.

  “I like you a lot,” I said. The dim light glimmered in his hazel eyes, irresistible to me. But somehow behind the smile I put on my face right then, he saw pain in my eyes, the windows to my soul. He pulled me toward him further and saw my shirt exposing the drift on my back above where my skirt was. He wrapped his arms around me, one hand caressing the back of my neck and hair, the other around my back. I caressed the back of his head and if he was standing, he wasn’t anymore.

  Every man’s potential weakness, the back of their skull. My mom loved to tell me things I didn’t really need to know.

  “Wow,” he said, leaning his weight on me. “You’re good.”

  “I’m a musician,” I said pointing out the obvious. He was now kneeling on the floor, his head on my chest, eyes closed.

  “Mmm…” he sighed. “You smell good.”

  “Thank you.” I said.

  “Don’t you have to go home?”

  “It’s a Tuesday, actually I live at school during the week,” I replied. “My parents won’t even know I’m gone. However, I was at my parents’ house when Zack stole me.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. I ran my hand down the perfect jaw line I had longed to touch since I saw him that first time in my Bentley. I gazed into his eyes. I held his hands; they covered mine. I had always had small hands and it wasn’t to my advantage.