by Becca Taylor
“Love ya too, Aly.”
Ending the call, I make my way to the bed and crash. Completely mentally and emotionally exhausted, I sleep.
Caleb
WHEN NOON HIT, and I haven’t heard a word from Kat, I start to worry. She sounded awful last night. What I wanted to do was get in my truck and see her right away, but I told her I would stay away. That was yesterday.
As soon as Bentley came in, I grabbed my keys and ran out the door. Now, I’m pulling in her driveway. I brought soup, juice and ginger ale, hoping it will make her feel better. When I knock on her door, she opens it a small crack. Her eyes are red and puffy. But, goddamn, she still looks beautiful. Even if she is sick. “Why are you here?” Kat asks me.
“I was worried. I brought some soup.” I show her the bags in my hand. Hoping the offering of food will get her to let me through the front door. It’s been four days since I saw her last. I’m not going to let her send me away over a stupid stomach bug.
Her lip trembles a little, and I am not sure why she is so upset. “Come on Kat, let me in. I just want to help.”
“You can’t help.” Covering her eyes, she starts crying. What the hell is going on? I push the door open, put my stuff down, and grab her in my arms.
“Kat, talk to me. What’s going on?” I hold her, brushing her hair with my fingers. She’s freaking me out. A million thoughts run through my head. Is it more than a stomach bug? Is she really sick? Sick like my mom was? Another thought pops in my head. Stomach bug, maybe she’s pregnant and scared to tell me. “Whatever it is, baby, just tell me. We’ll get through it together.”
She begins pushing at my chest, to get away from me. “I just need you to leave. Please, Caleb. I can’t do this anymore.”
If she thinks I will walk away because she is pregnant . . . Okay, so she hasn’t said that she is. I need her to explain what the fuck is going on. “What do you mean, you can’t do this? You need to talk to me.”
She points between herself and me, “Us. I’m done.”
“What the fuck, Kat?” I knew I yelled at her, because she jumps. I take a few deep breaths, to calm myself. “What happened this weekend? Fuck, Kat, don’t do this. Talk to me. Please, baby. Let me fix it.” I rub at my chest, because when she said she was done, a sharp pain hit me like a lightning bolt.
Reaching in her pocket, she pulls out her phone. She flips through it, looking for something, then tosses it to me. I stare at the picture on her phone. On the screen are a couple of pictures, pictures of Sami and me. And they don’t make me look too good. She had better not believe this, because it’s shit.
“Who the fuck sent this bull? You know this is bull shit, right?” The look on her face tells me she believes it. “You think I cheated on you? I’m pretty sure I can figure out who sent it. I saw the asshole there.” I toss her phone on the couch, and start pacing the floors. She’s not saying a word. “Kat, you got to believe me. Nothing happened.”
“Who are they, Caleb?” She turns her back to me. She won’t even look at me.
“Just an old friend.” I said as I step beside her.
“Well, you look pretty close to me. Especially with the one you were kissing.”
I turn her body, forcing her to face me. “It’s nothing. They are together, as in a couple. Sami used to sing with us. We bumped into them. We hung out. That’s it.”
She finally looks up at me, “Did you sleep with her?”
“No, not that night.” Wrong word choice, shithead.
She gasps. “So you did fuck her? When, Caleb? While we were together? Never mind, I don’t want to know. I can see it in the picture, the way you are looking at each other.”
What the fuck? I don’t want Sami. Who I want is the girl in front of me, but she won’t listen to what I’m saying. “It was years ago, one time. Sami decided she liked women better. It was awkward after. There is nothing but friendship between us, so I hope that’s what you can tell by looking at that picture.”
“Please, just go. I need time.”
“Don’t do this Kat.” I reach for her hand but she pulls away. Crack, I feel my heart fucking split.
“I need you to leave.”
“Kat, I want only you. Don’t do this.” I repeat again. Jesus, my heart is beating out of my chest. Once again, I grab at my chest, willing it to calm the fuck down.
“I’m sorry Caleb. I just can’t.” This time she walks to the door getting ready to open it.
I start to get angry. I press my hand to the door, so she can’t open it. “You believe that asshole over me? The same asshole who did everything to make you feel like shit, every goddamn day.”
“It’s not about him. It’s about trust.”
“Well, trust me then. Not him, or the fucking picture he sent. Nothing happened.” Why would she think she couldn’t trust me? I never gave her any reason not trust me.
It was her turn to pace. “I don’t know who to trust anymore. My head is messed up right now. I need time. I need space.”
That asshole did this to her. He’s the one who made her feel like she can’t trust someone. Somehow, I have to find a way to prove to her that she can trust me. I realize, tonight is not that night. Knowing I am not going to reach her now. I’ll give her space. It is going to break me, but I will respect her.
Opening her door, I stop before I leave, “Just so you know, that kiss, it was because Sami told us she was marrying Emily next month. That was the whole encounter.”
I close the door without looking back, walk to my truck with my head down, hands in my pockets. Right now, I feel like I want to hit something. . . . hard. My hands grab the steering wheel. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” I pound my hand over my chest. I have never felt pain like this before. I never let anyone in enough to feel pain. And shit, if it doesn’t hurt.
I drive home in need of a beer. I kicked the door closed with as much force as I can, surprised the hinges didn’t break. I grab a six-pack from the fridge, slamming the door, and everything clangs in protest. On my stereo, I blast the loudest, angriest metal music I can find. Because that’s what I feel . . . Angry.
I sit on the couch wondering what the fuck just happened. I replay the scene in my head, repeatedly. I hang my head in my hands, not knowing what I should do next. All I know is I can’t give her up. Kat was made for me. I feel it in my constricting chest. Now, I just have to figure out how to get her back. How the hell I was going to do that? Good question. I never had to deal with this before. Never cared for a woman as much as I care for her. This woman has the ability to break me. And for me, that’s a completely foreign feeling.
Katerina
ONCE CALEB LEAVES, my head is spinning. On one hand, I know I should believe him. On the other hand, I’m still too stuck in my head to trust him. After seeing that last message from Travis, memories came rushing back to me. Memories I thought were long gone. Even before my time with Travis, my self-esteem was low. The memories of my past haunt me, even when I knew they were long over.
My childhood for the most part was happy. My problems have nothing to do with family or anyone close to me. My family showed me more love than anyone could give. We grew up an average family. I wasn’t spoiled. I was taught right from wrong, and in order to succeed you work hard. Most of all, I was taught respect. How you treat others is how they will treat you. At a young age, I saw firsthand that other kids my age were not taught the same thing. Kids were cruel.
It all began my very first day of kindergarten. I was, to say it politely, a little chunky for a kid my age. But it didn’t mean I was a bad person. While I was sitting on the bus, so happy to go to school for the first time, one boy decided I was the one to pick on, calling me Miss Piggy. Every day, I had to listen to him and his pig sounds, until he finally moved away. Thankfully, it stopped for a whole year. Then I went to middle school.
Over the summer, my body developed. More than any other girl in my class. I went from flat chested to a C cup in the blink of an eye, and kept right on
developing. This also made me self-conscious when we would change for gym class. So I stopped going to gym, instead I would go to the nurse claiming a migraine. My counselor called me into her office one day, thinking she was going to help. Asking me why I wasn’t attending gym, she looked me in the eye and said, “Is it because you’re heavier than the other girls, or because you are well endowed in the chest department?” Yep, that was the guidance department at my school. Way to make me feel like the gum under your shoe. I was thirteen years old.
When I went into high school things changed, for the worse. I was still overweight for my age, but I had a lot of friends, and figured things were pretty good. I was wrong. There was a group of more popular kids, who once again decided I would be their new victim. I would be part of their jokes for the next three years. You see, this was before the schools had zero tolerance for bullies.
It started out with just simple name-calling. That I could handle. It was the progression of what they did, that made me feel like I was lower than dirt. It was their daily chore to make me feel like I was the ugliest person on the planet. Doing things like tripping me in the hallway in front of other popular kids, leaving notes on my locker portraying my face on a cow’s body, gum spit in my hair on the bus. The bus was the worst, with the shit they would spew at me. Things like, “fat ass,” “wide load,” “good year blimp” all the way to “we can smell your stink back here.” That was a nicer way of how they said it. It was more a reference to that time of the month. And no, I did not stink. In fact, I was probably the cleanest kid around. I showered twice a day due to those comments. It got so bad, I lied to my parents saying I had early practice for band, just so I would not have to ride the bus anymore. I would rather get to school an hour early, than have to deal with the torment on that ride.
The thing that brought me to my all-time low was a boy. You know that boy, not the most popular but well known and liked by everyone. He would talk to everyone, the nice one of his group. We were in a class together, Science. He was so sweet. I thought my luck was changing. During that time, he became my “friend” and no one bothered me. This was the biggest set up of all. All the times I shared my notes or let him copy my tests. That should’ve been a clue. He asked for my number one day, since we had to work on a project together. He would call me every night, telling me how beautiful I was. How he could talk to me about anything, and how I was becoming more than just a friend.
It was all a joke, one that ended with his girlfriend calling me. Not only did I not know he was dating someone, he was dating the same girl that tortured me my first two years in high school. I will tell you the clean version. It went something like, “You fat slut. You think my boyfriend would ever be interested in your thunder thighs. He probably wouldn’t even be able to find where to stick it through all your rolls.” The whole time she yelled her obscenities, I could hear him laughing in the background. In a very condensed version, that was my first three years in high school. I prayed that no other girl would have to go through the ridicule I went through . . . ever.
After they graduated, I thought my final year of high school would be the best year ever. I got a boyfriend and everything. The first boy I gave myself to turned out to be no prize. I found out close to graduation that he had no less than three other girls he was sleeping with. My sense of worth dropped again. I was not good enough.
After high school, things changed. The baby fat slowly disappeared. Then, I started college and loved it. I took classes I wanted, and met people that were interested in the same things as me. I moved by Aly’s family, things just were better. When I turned twenty, in came Travis. The red haired, brown-eyed man I thought was it. He was going to be my knight in shining armor, the one that would be my last boyfriend. The love of my life, Ha. You already know how that went.
Here I am again, fighting all those memories I wish I could erase. Questioning my self-worth. That text Travis sent constantly running through my head. He didn’t want you. I was once again, not good enough for someone. Maybe I was meant to be alone, with a million cats, knitting them booties. Oh God, that can’t be my life.
This is what has been going around in my mind. This is why when Caleb tells me to trust him, I can’t. My head is too messed up right now. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is for now, until my fucked-upped-ness works itself out of my system. I only hope it doesn’t take that long. Because living with pain like this is too much. My heart can’t take it again.
This is also what caused me to stay in bed most of yesterday. Tonight, there is a pounding on my door. Choosing to ignore it, I throw the covers over my head. For the past ten minutes my phone has been ringing non-stop. I was just about to shut it off when I see that it’s been Logan calling me the whole time. In my poor pitiful pearl moment, I completely forgot about our Tuesday session. What drags my sorry ass out of bed is his text saying he is outside, and he’s not leaving until I open the door. Threatening he will, in fact, bust it down.
I drag my butt out of bed, opening the front door letting him walk in, but make my way to the couch cocooning myself in my favorite blanket. He closes the door behind him before sitting next to me on the couch. He moves closer to me, pulls my legs over his lap, doing exactly what I need. Opening his arms wide for me, I crawl onto him for a much-needed hug. “I think I just ruined everything. I really fucked up, Logan.”
He lets me cry in his arms. By the time I stop, his shirt is soaked, and I think I may have even used it for a tissue. But he ignored it. “Dani told me what happened. What can I do?”
I haven’t talked to Dani, so Aly must have given her a heads up. “What did she tell you? I didn’t even tell her what happened.”
He smiles at me, “When you didn’t show up, and I couldn’t get in touch with you, I called her. She said you weren’t answering your phone either. I guess she called Alyssa. All I heard is that you and Caleb may be on the outs. You want to talk about it?”
For over thirty-six hours, I have been relieving the whole mess in my head. To be honest, my head hurts. I’m always not sure why I need Logan, but in that moment, I did. There is something about his big, strong arms, that reminds me of a human sized teddy bear. I go with telling him the condensed version.
After showing him the pictures and the texts from Travis, he grabs my phone. “First, we are deleting this shit. You don’t need to keep torturing yourself looking at it. Second, I’m cooking us some food, because I’m sure you haven’t eaten. While I’m cooking that food, you are going to get your butt off the couch and take a hot shower. Then after we eat, I’m going through your movie collection. I am going to look for the funniest comedy, and we are going to watch it. I may even let you have some ice cream.”
Logan is the best male-girlfriend I have ever had. We did everything he said we would. He made the best fettuccini I have ever eaten. He must have brought ice cream with him, because magically it appeared. And my favorite too, chocolate with cookie dough. It is my “I had a fight with my boyfriend” ice cream.
“How did you know this is what I needed? You’re really good at the girlfriend thing.”
He raises one eyebrow at me and says, “Honey, there is no girl in this body. I’m all male. Want me to show you?”
As he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, I cover my eyes. “No, I’m good. That’s not what I meant. I know you are a male, but all this is perfect.”
This time he smiles. “I have four older sisters. Whenever one of them had their heart broken, mom would cook some pasta. We always had a secret stash of that ice cream for them too. I figured if it worked for them, why not give it a try on you?”
Kissing him on the cheek, “Well it did, thank you.”
“You sure you don’t want to look? Make sure I’m a guy?” I hit him on the chest. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” Now, I know he is just trying to make me laugh, and he succeeds too.
When Logan leaves for the night, I feel slightly better. It was time to put on my big girl pantie
s and make some decisions. I can sit here a crying, sobbing mess, or I can put myself back together. I’m not that girl from high school. I’m not the girl I was when I was with Travis. For the first time in my life, I am Katerina Isabel Sisti. Confident, beautiful, outgoing . . . right? I may have to repeat this a few more times, but I will get there. I have no choice because tomorrow it’s back to work and reality.
Katerina
ONE MONTH HAS passed in the blink of an eye. I haven’t seen or spoken to Caleb since that day at my apartment. I miss him every day. The past month has been a whirlwind. After everything that happened that weekend, I had one week to get out of my apartment. I couldn’t find a new place, but my landlord did find a new tenant to replace me. Technically, if I didn’t get myself together I would be homeless. Aly to the rescue.
After a lot of arguing, I “temporarily” moved in with her. I was reluctant to do so, since I figured Bentley hated my guts. It was quite the opposite, he was really great about it. In one weekend, my girls, Logan, and some of his friends got my place cleared out and into storage. They didn’t let me hire movers. I spent every weekend looking for some place to live, but nothing came close to being livable, unless you wanted your roommates to be cockroaches. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the places Caleb suggested. They would only remind me of him, of what I lost when I let my head get in the way.
Both Aly and Bentley assured me I could stay as long as I needed. I always expected Caleb to show up, but he never did. When everyone went out to a bar or club, and I knew he would be there, I stayed home.
One thing Aly made me do, keep up with my list. When she read it, she said we could cross off a bunch of items easily. Most of things we accomplished were to make me smile or laugh. Keg stands were not as easy as we thought. That gave Bentley a good laugh. When we won beer pong, he didn’t laugh.