by Lily Foster
Now the lie was spoken without thinking. “Before you, Kasia. Before you, ok?”
She looked down at the ground. “I overheard some people talking tonight about her.”
I said nothing, waiting to see where this conversation was going. “They were talking about what she liked—that she was so freaky she scared some poor guy to death. That she liked two guys at once or two girls and a guy…,” Kasia looked up at me with pain in her eyes. “Your name was mentioned.”
“I don’t know what to say, Kasia.”
She looked like she was going to cry. “Do you need that, Dylan? I mean it. Do you need someone like her?”
“Kasia, no! Damn, that was just…I don’t know how to explain it.”
She shook her head. “I’m not angry about that, ok? It was before you were with me. It’s just that I don’t…Dylan I just need to think, ok? Go home. I want to be by myself tonight.”
“Kasia, please.”
“Really, Dylan, I need to be alone tonight.”
Kasia
I wasn’t mad that Dylan had been with Melanie; I’d pretty much assumed they had been. I was upset and confused because deep down, if I was being very honest with myself, I knew there was a side to Dylan that was different from the other guys I’d dated. There were times when we had been in bed together that I sensed Dylan was holding back; that he wanted things he wouldn’t ask me to do—things he thought I couldn’t handle.
It was weeks before I could step foot back into his place—I didn’t want to run into her. Dylan was persistent; he wouldn’t settle for me shutting him out. He showed up the night after we fought and just climbed into bed with me, not even speaking. The next day when I woke, he was looking down at me, pain etched in his expression. “Don’t leave me, Kasia, please.”
I didn’t want to leave him. I loved him but I also didn’t want to be like his parents someday down the road. The clueless wife and the lying husband acting as if everything was just great while everything was a farce. I told him all that even though I knew it was painful for him to hear. I felt so terrible for him when he said, “You think I want to be like them, Kasia? When I’m with you, it makes me better. Maybe it’s because you don’t need me, you know? You’ll be fine without me but I won’t be without you. If I ever wound up with some society princess, I’d die. I’d become my father.”
We made our way back to each other that month but what happened had changed me. I knew he wanted to be with me and I wanted to be with him. But I kept asking myself who I was willing to be for him. How far was I willing to go?
Dylan
Kasia and I were lying on my bed. She was reading and I was working on some financial data for my senior project. She got up to get a highlighter from my desk and opened the draw, fishing around, reaching her hand to the back. She pulled out a bag that had about an eight-ball’s worth of coke in it. She held it up looking to me. “Study aid?”
“Kasia, it’s been in there forever. I haven’t done anything—wait I have smoked a few times—but I haven’t done anything harder in a long time.”
She looked back to the bag. “What does it make you feel like?”
I was uncomfortable that she was asking me. I had the feeling she had never done anything other than drink and I’d never really even seen her get wasted. “I don’t know…like you’re more awake, energized, buzzing, happy, chatty.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Um, I guess, but the problem is you—um, some people—like the feeling so much they feel like they need a little more and then a little more…and before you know it you can consume a lot of it in one night and then you wake up feeling like crap.”
“Does it lower your inhibitions?”
“Definitely.”
“Can I try it once, just with you?”
“No.” The answer came out like a bark, fast and definitive.
“Why?”
“It’s not for you, Kasia. You don’t want to try that shit.” She put the bag back in the drawer and closed it. “Kasia,” I pulled her close to me, “I don’t want you to think that you doing…things will be more exciting for me, you know? I’m so crazy about you.”
That Saturday night, Kasia pulled me upstairs after we’d put in a few hours at the party raging at my house. She looked so good tonight and I’d laughed watching her knock back a shot or two with her girlfriends. I’d been dying to bail on the party for the past hour so I was glad she was feeling the same. She led me into my room by the hand and then turned to lock the door. “You’re mine now,” she laughed.
She was buzzing but not drunk as she maneuvered me back towards the bed and then pushed me back when my calves met the mattress. I sat on the bed and watched as she stripped, slowly for me, taking her time with each button, sneaking glances at me as she unzipped, and moving closer to me when all she had on was satin and lace. I stood, my eyes never leaving her, as I undressed and then sat back on the bed. She sat straddling me then and I breathed in that scent that was just her; it made me feel better than stoned. “You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen, Kasia. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine.”
She ran her hands through my hair and returned my kiss as she pressed our bodies together. She leaned her forehead against mine. “You feel so good, Dylan. Tell me what you want.”
“I just want you, baby…just want to be inside of you.”
“No, Dylan. Tell me what you really want,” she breathed in my ear as she ground her body against mine. When I didn’t answer, she made her way to my desk, shaking her hips in a way that made me salivate, and took out the package. Holding it up, she smiled at me. “Let me try just a little, Dylan. I’m just here with you. It’ll be ok.”
“No, Kasia.”
She looked annoyed but still kept the pouty, pleading thing going. “What are you afraid of, Dylan?”
“I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“If I’m with you I won’t regret anything.”
I had a feeling that I might regret this but there was always that part of me that was tempted. “Just a little and just once, I mean it, Kasia.” She smiled at me, triumphant. We both did a line; I’d made hers less than half of what I normally did.
Long story short, before the night was over we each did two more lines, didn’t get to sleep until five, did things we’d never done together, and probably made so much noise that every brother in the house had heard us.
Regrets—coming right up, folks!
This was the first time I woke up next to Kasia and thought to myself, she doesn’t look so good. Instead of the sweet-faced angel I was used to lying beside, Kasia’s hair was a knotted mess and her mouth was hanging open—not in a sweet-parted-lips way. I nudged her, “Hey, baby, you ok?” I felt like crap too. Not just because my head was pounding from the night’s activities and lack of sleep but because we’d crossed some lines last night—lines I knew she wouldn’t have crossed sober. My fault, entirely.
She made a half-groan, half-coughing sound. “Oh, Dylan, my head.”
I went to the bathroom and got her some aspirins and a glass of water. “Take these and drink the entire glass.” When her eyes opened they were red-rimmed and glassy. It was another time in my life, like so many others, that I wished I could hit the rewind button.
We both went back to sleep and I woke up when I heard her in the shower. I padded in after her, took a leak and then sat down on the seat as I waited for her to finish. She came out and wrapped herself in a towel. Her eyes didn’t meet mine. “I’m sorry, Kasia. I shouldn’t have let you do that last night. I feel like shit.”
“I practically begged you, Dylan. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
I couldn’t help the cheerless laugh that slipped out. “I feel like I dragged you to the dark side. I don’t feel good about what we did.” When she met my eyes, her look was pained and embarrassed. “That’s not happening again, Kasia.”
She sat on my lap. “Dylan, don’t do that. I’m not some naïve young
girl. I went in with my eyes open last night. I’m just sorry that…I’m not the type of person who can do those things and then feel ok about it the next day.” When I went to interrupt her she held up her hand to silence me. “You hold back with me, Dylan. Last night you didn’t and I know you liked what we did.”
“Kasia, I love when it’s us and we’re together how we always are. Just that, nothing more…you satisfy me. I don’t need it crazier, riskier. What we did last night? I can’t say it wasn’t hot and that I didn’t enjoy myself but I regret the drugs, I do. And I regret it because I know, really, that’s not who you are.”
She looked at me, love in her eyes. “I trust you completely, Dylan.”
“And I trust you.”
She dressed in comfy sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt; she had a drawer full of clothes at my place by now. Kasia rolled her clothes from last night into a ball and then set about stripping the bed and tossing everything into a big laundry bag. The room smelled like sex—not an aroma I disliked—but clean bedding was definitely in order. I watched her as she made the bed with the spare sheets, smoothed the fresh pillowcases on the pillows, and then fixed the comforter neatly. She looked lost in thought. “Kasia, let’s do something mindless. Let’s go see a movie, get some dinner, and then crash early at your place, ok?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“I’ll be right back up.” I wanted to make my way downstairs and gauge the guys’ reaction to me. No one would dare to actually say anything crude but I wanted to know if we’d put on a show last night. I walked into the kitchen past a few guys playing video games on the couch. No smirks, no knowing smiles—no nothing. In the kitchen, Brian was at the sink washing out shot glasses; he was surprisingly domestic. “What’s up, Bri?”
“Nothing besides a splitting headache. I think I passed out at around three.” No reaction here. Brian had the room next to mine; if he didn’t hear anything then we were probably good. Relief.
As I made my way upstairs I ran right into Melanie, shit-eating grin on her face. “Good morning, Dylan.” She whispered then, “Looks like I may have underestimated your little knish.”
“My what?”
She looked at me with knotted brows. “Don’t Polish people eat knishes?” I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t purposely eavesdropping or anything, Dylan, but what I did hear was pretty hot.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Melanie. And by the way, envisioning you with your ear up against my door is a little disturbing.”
She threw her head back and laughed, teasing, “Oh you can watch me but I can’t even listen in? No fair!” She looked at me intently then. “Just sayin’…if she’s game, so am I.”
Melanie fucking scared me, I’ll admit it. She was a woman with the calculating instincts of a guy and the emotional range of a shark. “Steer clear, Melanie. She’s not like that.”
As I walked by her she called after me, “As I said before…it’s a pity.”
That night I was so relieved to just hold her. As we sat through the movie, some period drama that was actually really good, we sat as close to one another as we could with the barrier of the armrest between us. We held hands through dinner and talked about anything but last night. Kasia and I crawled into bed later, neither one of us wanting to so much as remove the little clothing that remained on, and I held her close against me as we drifted off.
Chapter Five
Kasia
Spring was officially here. People lounged on the great lawn in between classes, volleyball nets were put up, ping pong tables moved outside, and barbecues were fired up all day with beers flowing at some location at practically all times. This wasn’t a slacker school—to get in you had to be a student—but school was winding down for us now and the atmosphere was decidedly festive.
Dylan and I were more than good. We never brought that night up again. It wasn’t that I was ashamed about it—I didn’t feel judged by him at all. It’s just that I was confused about it still. There was a part of me that was so turned on by it but I also felt like I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror if it happened again. My true self was traditional; I wanted to be made love to—that was that. Dylan didn’t make a move to touch me beyond hugging and kissing for more than a week after. I think the entire experience freaked him out too.
With graduation only a few weeks away, I couldn’t help but feel down about parting ways with the three girls who had become like sisters to me. Val was heading to a creative writing program at Emory¸ Trish was moving home to Wisconsin, where Brian would be close by working in Chicago, and Bernadette was starting an internship in D.C.. I would be heading back to New York.
While I dreamed of my own apartment in Manhattan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to afford anything on that island for quite some time. I was planning on talking to my father about one of his properties in Williamsburg that had a commercial space on the ground level and apartments that were rented upstairs. It was an old locksmith’s shop now but I was dreaming of turning it into a store where I could focus on selling my pieces and finally having a true studio space for custom work. To convince him of that I knew I would have to play the game. The game being: do what every respectable, unmarried, young girl would do and live with Mama and Tata.
Dylan, of course, already had an apartment purchased for him on the Upper West Side in a luxury, full service building with a view overlooking the park. My nerves would tense whenever he’d talk about us living in the city together this fall. He didn’t really mean officially living together—he knew I would be based in Brooklyn—but he was assuming I’d be spending nights in his apartment with him regularly. We slept together practically every night now, so next year was going to be a major adjustment because the Mazurs’ daughter would not be anyone’s dziwka, or whore. They weren’t totally old school but some things were just non-negotiable. I’d get away with it occasionally if, for example, my parents thought a group of us were staying there after a party or thought his parents would be there, but this was not going to be a regular thing on the weekends even.
I started plotting in my head more and more about the building on North Sixth and Bedford. It was a great area with lots of foot traffic near the waterfront in Williamsburg. I could already envision the design of the commercial space and hoped—prayed—that I could convince my father to let me lease it for a steal. The icing on that cake would be if he let me keep one of the small apartments upstairs for myself, as an office-slash-place to crash when I was working late. I was probably pushing it but a girl could dream, right?
Dylan
I was playing along but felt like I was just going through the motions. I was ready to start the next phase; I was just ready to go. We finished the lacrosse season, making it to the playoffs. My senior project earned me an A and made dear old Dad proud, as it was a full-fledged business plan for an expansion he had been mulling. The only part of my life that I wasn’t trudging through was time spent with Kasia. She was the love of my life. I imagined waking up beside her ten, twenty years from now and couldn’t imagine that I’d feel any less in love with her than I did today. It no longer scared me when I thought of a future with her.
“My, my, don’t you look delicious.” Melanie slithered up behind me as I straightened my tie in the mirror. I smiled at her, taking in her dress. I’ll admit, she looked hot but I appreciated Kasia’s sense of style more—sexy in a more understated way. I didn’t need to see Kasia’s tits pushing out of the top of her dress; I knew what was underneath the fabric, how beautiful every inch of her was.
“Melanie, you look great.”
“Good enough to eat, Dylan?” she teased and then poked me as she laughed, “I’ m joking, of course.” She sashayed past me then, purposely shaking her fine ass, and went to join Christian, who’d heard the entire exchange and was smirking.
Tonight was our senior dance, which was followed by a week of parties and activities that culminated with Graduation Day. Matt, Brian and I jumped in
the limo together to get the girls. I’d declined Christian’s offer of riding with them; Kasia would not have been up for that and neither would I.
When Kasia opened the door I threw my head back and took in a deep breath before I smiled down at her again. She was so beautiful. “Turn around,” I ordered as I circled my index finger towards her. I purred, affecting my best fashionista voice, “The dress is divine. Who are you wearing, Ms. Mazur?”
She curtsied playfully. “Funny you should ask. It’s an original Kasia Mazur, available exclusively at Sweet Betty Threads-dot-com.”
“Kasia, really, the dress is insane. Hugs these beautiful curves and it looks like it came off a runway. You look like you came off a runway, you’re stunning.”
“And you, Dylan, you look good enough to eat!” I bristled for a second at her choice of words, similar to Melanie’s, but recovered before she noticed. She air-kissed me. “Don’t want to ruin my make-up this early,” she looked at me apologetically.
“No offense taken. Later on I’m gonna kiss, lick, and bite every last speck of lipstick off you.”
“I can’t wait,” she smiled up at me.
That night was one to remember. I was smug in the knowledge that practically every heterosexual man in the venue had checked out my Kasia; she really looked beautiful tonight. I held her close as we danced and thought to myself that I could die a happy man if she was in my life. Sounds pretty corny but I was in a sentimental frame of mind these days.
I checked my phone as Kasia was freshening up in the bathroom to see a few messages from Ben. I had to re-read them a few times before the info sunk in. When Kasia came back I told her to go in without me for a second, I had to make a call.
“I see you got the messages.”
“Holy crap, Ben.”
“Yeah, it’s bad. I just got back from his house. His parents were there. He was holding the baby and everything—it freaked me out.”
“Does Darcy know?”
“Yeah, she knew from day one. But they’re toast; Tom’s pretty much fucked that up.”