Black and White

by Ludivig, K. R.

  “Now the king and queen will share a dance.”

  “What?!” I said aloud.

  “Relax Chris,” Said Emma, or what was her name again? I promised myself to ask Katie when she came back. She put her hand on my shoulder attempting to calm me down. If she wasn’t keeping me so chill already, I would have pushed through the crowd and decked Zack in the face by now and if Marcus was here he would have helped.

  I fixed my jacket when Zack turned to me with an evil smile on his lips. I could see Katie’s lips moving, muttering something to him. And hesitantly, he spoke back to her. And as soon as other people started dancing with them, I was cutting in.

  Chris was waiting for Zack to do something stupid. I could feel Zack’s hand intentionally inch down my spine, giving me chills and getting closer to my ass. I could feel the crowd creeping around us like fog settling in.

  I was doing my best to keep my eyes on Zack even though I knew Chris was doing that for me. He promised to protect me and also promised that soon Zack wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

  It scared me to think of him as a murderer, if that’s what he was implying. I saw Chris out of the corner of my eye. He tapped Zack’s shoulder.

  “May I cut in?”Chris scalded Zack with his eyes. That glare was enough to kill anyone. Zack didn’t say a word and stepped away from me.

  “Thank you. And you could mind your hands for once.” Chris retorted.

  “Christopher.” I warned.

  He turned to me when Zack was within a few arms lengths away.

  “I hope you had fun because afterwards we’re going back to my house and we’re staying there because you’re safe there.” I rolled my eyes and smiled. I kissed him softly.

  “Thank you.” I said. “For coming with me.”

  “You’re welcome. Can we go now?”

  “No.” I replied, “A few moments longer.”

  He didn’t argue. This was my night and I was getting whatever I wanted.

  Chapter Seventeen: The Day After

  We just sat on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. I had a cup in my right hand that I set on the headboard and he immediately removed it. I had drank a lot but enough to control myself. I realized I still had my dress on.

  “Hey babe?” he asked.

  “Yeah?” I asked him back.

  “Have you ever thought about kids names?”

  “No.” I laughed. “Why?”

  “Because I really like one name and if we have kids together, I want it to be our daughter’s name.” He said. “You can name the other ones, but I want this one.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “Kiari.” He said.

  “Like K-Y-E-R-I-E?” I asked.

  “No like K-I-A-R-I.”

  “That’s pretty. Where is it from?”

  “Before I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh.”

  “Okay, I promise.”

  “Kingdom Hearts.”

  “The video game?” I looked at him disbelievingly.

  He nodded. I burst out laughing.

  “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

  “I couldn’t help it.” I said. “You want to name our daughter after a video game character.”

  “Katie.” He said.

  “Okay I’ll stop. I’m sorry.” I held what I called composure and tried to keep from laughing.

  “Katie?” he said.

  “Yes Christopher?” I asked him back.

  “Can I kiss you?”

  “I don’t know, can you?”

  “May I kiss you then?” He rolled his eyes.

  I just nodded and leaned in towards him, smiling. His lips felt wonderful against mine, fiery hot and icy cold. I felt the sparks fly just as they always had. And normally I could stop myself before things went too far and I wanted more than I should. I felt his hand come to my face and I melted at the touch. But this time instead of pulling away, I pushed for more.

  “Katie,” he stopped me. “Are you sure? You’ve had quite a bit to drink?”

  I nodded. “I want it. Don’t you?”

  “Yes...”

  “But I am perfectly willing and I can control myself. Tonight I’m just a little more-” What was the word?

  “Horny.”

  “Yeah that.” I said. And as in those tv shows when people have had too much to drink, I hiccupped. Chris laughed.

  “You are such a stereotypical rich hottie.”

  “Hey!” I objected.

  “What?”

  “Hottie?”

  “Yes.” He said, being a smartass.

  “Thank you. I appreciate the effort.” Towards what? I realized I made no sense.

  “Katie.” He said.

  “Yes Christopher?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I said.

  And I kissed him hard and needy this time, urging him to push us further. That was the very first time I had ever had sex with a dress on, or anything on at all.

  When I woke up next to him the next morning, I realized that I didn’t put my clothes on and instead of taking my dress off to do so, I put a sweatshirt of his overtop my dress and went to the bathroom in it. I had to pee so bad, due to the alcohol, I ran there. I wasn’t drunk last night, just loopy. But I did have quite a bit. When I was finished, I washed my hands and went to the kitchen.

  “Mmm.” I said when I found his mom cooking again. My favorite medley for a hangover. “Oh Lynn you didn’t have to cook the hangover medley. I’m not hung over.”

  “Sad, someone else will just have to eat this then.”

  “NO! I mean…. No, I’ll eat it.” I laughed. She did too.

  “Why are you still wearing your dress?”

  “Too lazy to take it off?”

  “Okay?” he said. “Did you have fun?”

  “Yes I did,” I said.

  “Are you still drunk?”

  “I wasn’t drunk, but yeah a little.”

  “Haha I could tell. You’re funny dear.” She said.

  She sat a plate down in front of me.

  “Katie!” screamed Chris.

  “Wow he has the worst timing.” I said getting up from the breakfast bar and ignoring the perfect bacon sitting on my plate. Lynn laughed at my comment.

  I walked into his room and announced myself. “What?”

  “Do you remember the condom last night?”

  “No.” I said. “I do remember the orgasm though. That was awesome.”

  “This isn’t exactly the time to be funny.”

  “That’s not what your mom said.” He just looked at me. “Seriously, that’s what she said.”

  “Katie. I didn’t put it on last night.”

  “I’m not exactly worried about it.” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m on birth control that I never told you about.” I lied to his face, clearly not as worried about it as he was.

  He collapsed into his recliner and sighed.

  “What?”

  “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”

  “Haha because you don’t want a kid?”

  “Not yet, not exactly.”

  “Come on!” I urged him to the kitchen. “Your mom made breakfast and it looked so good.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I was up ten minutes before you.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just followed me into the kitchen and sat next to me at the breakfast bar.

  I shoveled eggs and bacon into my face, with toast and jam. Chris watched me in awe.

  “What?” I asked with my mouth full. “I had a big night and I used a lot of energy trying to please you. What do you expect?” I meant that in more than one way, thank you. I thought for a moment the alcohol was getting to me.

  “You surprise me every day.”

  “I know,” I swallowed and then smiled.

  He laughed.

  “What?” I asked. “Do I have something in my teeth?” Self consciously,
I touched my teeth searching for bits of bacon and toast.

  “No. You’re just funny.”

  “See I told you I was funny!” I announced. Then I realized John was gone. “Where’s John?”

  “Work.”

  “Ew,” I said. “I hate work.”

  “Yeah, and you just started.” Lynn retorted.

  “Thanks,” I answered her. “For breakfast I mean. It’s so amazing.”

  “I bet,” Chris said, still searching me for answers.

  “What?!”

  “Nothing. You just look funny shoving food into your face.”

  “Sorry,” I said frowning.

  He laughed.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. I had to go again. Seriously, my bladder sucked. I changed into a pair of my sweatpants that I brought and took my dress off while I was gone. I replaced his sweatshirt with one of mine and planned to shower later. I brushed my teeth and made my makeup not so smeared. I didn’t bother replacing that.

  “Katie,” said Chris.

  “Yeah?” I asked walking out his door and right into him.

  “I love you.” He caught me as I toppled over.

  “I love you too.” I kissed him. Passionately. When he pulled away he thought a moment.

  “Mmm. Minty.” I laughed as he teased me.

  “Hey can I have a plate of that?” Chris asked his mom.

  After his breakfast, we went back to his room and begged him to shower with me. He insisted that he couldn’t while his mom was in the house. So the alcohol in me took initiative.

  “Hey Lynn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Could you give us a moment?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “But OK, I’ll leave give me two minutes.”

  “Okay, we should be done in about an hour,” I said.

  “Thanks for the heads up.” Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell she was giving me the ‘That’s too much information’ look.

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Really?” he asked, when I reentered his room.

  “Yes. I got her to leave so we could have sex in the shower.” I traveled to where he was standing and kissed him passionately, readily, and hard. I took off the sweatshirt and took his shirt off. He went along with whatever I wanted which was good, but bad sometimes. I felt his hand creep up my t-shirt and settle on my skin. I felt his hand slide further up and slide my shirt above my head.

  “Baby,” I said.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  I just ran into the bathroom. I could imagine his face was dumbstruck, standing there with no one to hold or kiss.

  “Katie?” he sounded about to cry.

  “Baby, come get me.” I said.

  “Oh that.” I heard him mumble. I took the sweatpants off and lay them on the bathroom floor. I shed the rest of my clothing, turned the water on and shut the curtain. I hid behind the door.

  When he came in, he immediately got in the shower and I followed close behind him. I wrapped my arms around his torso and placed my hands on his chest, scratching my nails down his abs. I took down my hair and let him turn around in front of me. He began to kiss me, hard but steady. I loved kissing him almost more than making love to him. When he wrapped his arms around me and brought us together the way we had last night, it felt magical, almost like rain, because the water was splashing up against his skin, making it brighter.

  “Baby.” He said.

  “AHHHH I love you too.” It was obvious at what just happened. The heat, the water, the explosion within me. He had me pinned against an icy cold wall and I was perfectly content with the temperature. I was content with every feeling at this point. We rode the wall like it was skin to us, and he finished too alongside me a second time, inside me.

  When we did finish, I actually showered and he did too. We were dressed and conservative by the time his mom came home. Damn I’m good. I was convinced I was getting a shirt made that said that.

  Chapter Eighteen: Auditions

  A week later was something I was ready to be over with. It was my Juilliard audition. I handed them my transcript and stuff and awaited their command to begin my scales and arpeggios. I played my memorized scales on my French horn and my new Buffet Advanced Clarinet. Good God that thing was beautiful.

  “Miss White, how long have you had the aspiration to attend Juilliard School of Music and Arts?”

  “Almost my whole life. Well, since my mother introduced clarinet to me at the age of four.”

  “I thought French horn was your first instrument.” He said.

  “It is. My mom plays clarinet. She got accepted to Juilliard.”

  “Did she?” he asked. “What was her name?”

  “Julia Lemke.” I recited my mother’s maiden name.

  “Really now? She’s your mother?” He sighed, disappointed, probably knowing he’d seen my skill before and he seemed to get bored with it. “Miss White why did you decide to start playing clarinet this year?”

  “I wanted to play as Guest Soloist this year as a clarinet player in our Spring Concerto.”

  “A soloist? In a collegiate orchestra as a first year wind player? That’s impressive.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  “How well are you doing in this courses this year?”

  “Not as well as I’d like. I’ve been in and out of the hospital a few times.

  “What happened?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.” I said, frowning.

  “Miss White, you seem like a very ambitious young woman; why did you choose to play clarinet so late in your career? You would have done just as well in a band with your French horn.”

  “When my director presented me the music to this year’s spring concerto it was all clarinet solo’s and since I was the only senior that had an honorable mention this year he wanted to rewrite all of the solo’s for French horn. I declined him. My entire music career I’ve had instructor after instructor rewrite solos from different instruments for me to play on French horn. This time instead of him doing the work to transpose the music from instrument to instrument, I decided to do the work myself. I taught myself, with the help of another professor to play clarinet.”

  “But Miss White, learning a completely new instrument entails so much more work than simply transposing music from instrument to instrument. Why would you do that?”

  “Like I said before sir, every instructor I’ve had before Mr. Parker have been transposing music for me for years.”

  “How long have you been playing French horn?” he asked.

  “Thirteen years, since kindergarten.” I replied. He was writing this down all for his record.

  “You understand that you playing clarinet for one year is far more impressive than you playing French horn for thirteen?”

  “Yes sir, I do.”

  “Do you think it would be more of a gift if you were to play clarinet first?”

  “Yes. But I don’t regret playing French horn first.”

  He was silent a moment and finished writing then spoke again.

  “If you would please come down to the audience to retrieve these pieces of music and sight read them for my colleagues and myself.” He said.

  I went down to the audience where he was sitting and took the paper from his hands.

  “Thank you sir.”

  When I got to the stage and put the music on the stand, he spoke again warningly.

  “One of them is more difficult than the other, considering your abilities. You have two minutes to prepare yourself for each piece. You’ll have five minutes between instruments in which to adjust your lips and prepare for the coming piece. Is that clear Miss White?”

  “Yes sir.” I scanned the music in front of me. I sight read mostly sixteenth notes and began before he said to. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him write it down I had begun without being told. It was difficult, I admit, but I thought I had done well when I finished.

  I took a deep bre
ath and began my new music. Adjusting right away to a new instrument wasn’t hard but the vibrations were different so it tickled my lips a little bit. When I finished my outright difficult piece, he was writing. I stood in my uniform onstage.

  “Miss White.”

  “Yes sir?”

  “Please leave the music on the stand and you are excused.”

  I frowned. What about the pieces I prepared? Did I play those already? What if he didn’t want to listen to me play anymore?

  I took my horn and clarinet and exited the stage. Ella met me next to Mr. Dibble in instrumental storage.

  “How’d you do?” she asked.

  “I thought I did well but he didn’t seem to want to listen to me. He didn’t even hear the pieces I prepared for the audition.”

  “It’s OK Katie. I’m sure you’ll get in. It’s so easy for a musician of your stature.” Mr. Dibble replied.

  I hoped so.

  “That guy didn’t seem to like me or the fact that he knew of my mother.”

  “Your mother?” Mr. Dibble asked.

  “My mom got kicked out of Juilliard.” I said despairingly.

  “I didn’t know your mother even played an instrument.”

  “She’s the reason I try so hard. I can’t live up to her reputation as a musician.”

  “Those guys are supposed to act like that.” Mr. Parker replied. “And they were probably running out of time, so he cut you short?

  I sighed. “Maybe.”

  I kept a hopeful heart and a smile. I was finally done with the auditions I had taken thirteen years to prepare for.

  “Come on Katie let’s go back and eat. Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

  “Actually,” I thought aloud, smiling. “You want to go raid my parents’ fridge?”

  Chapter Nineteen: Two Months Later

  That night when I was at work, I saw his neon pull up. I imagined myself at his feet, groveling and begging him to take me back for yet another time. However, that would make me improper in front of my colleagues and I would not lower myself to his level.

  “Katie!” squealed little Anna beside me, with the golf club in her hand, “Teach me! Teach me!” My tennis player’s skirt flowed wispily in the wind as Chris arrived beside me. I thought I might cry, but I was getting better at this bitterness and composure thing. If we would have teed off ten minutes ago as scheduled, running into him wouldn’t be a problem because we would already be on hole number two! Now I have to deal with this shit again!