by S. H. Kolee
Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, I slid the pie into the preheated oven and set the timer for forty minutes. I heard the bathroom door open and I walked over to find out the result of the wrinkled shirt experiment.
"Well, did it work?" I asked, leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom door.
"No," huffed Sarah. "It's still pretty wrinkled. I might have to take you up on the offer of teaching me how to iron."
CHAPTER FOUR
At six o'clock, I promptly knocked on the front door downstairs as Sarah adjusted her shirt beside me. I tended to be a stickler for punctuality so I was constantly giving Sarah a countdown as to how many minutes she had before we had to leave.
"Sarah, your shirt looks fine," I muttered, as we waited for someone to answer.
"But it's not the one I wanted to wear," Sarah replied grumpily. After taking the time to demonstrate the proper way to use an iron, steam and all, we had realized after ironing the shirt that there was a stain on the shoulder and it ended up going into the laundry bin.
"The shirt you're wearing looks great," I assured her, glancing over at her. And Sarah did look great. The green blouse had darts on the side and a deep eyelet in the front, accentuating her fit frame. Skinny jeans completed the look with a pair of low-heeled sandals. Sarah loved to run and it showed on her figure.
I was much more casually dressed in jeans, flip flops and one of my many t-shirts, this one being a Drink 7-Up tee. Sarah always begged me to let her dress me, but I was comfortable in my clothes. It said, Don't notice me. That was the look I was going for. I wanted to blend in.
"Oh my God," Sarah said, hopping from one foot to another and pounding on the door. "Hurry up! We're freezing!"
Sarah and I had opted not to wear coats since we were just running downstairs, but the cold air was starting to seep in.
The door flung open and Grant stepped aside, waving us in.
"Sorry, ladies," he said with a gallant bow. He straightened and grinned. "We were in the backyard with the music blasting."
Sarah and I hurriedly entered, shivering to shake off the cold. Students used to typically leave their doors unlocked until a series of break-ins last year changed people's habits. Before that, Grant and Marcus usually left their door unlocked. We used to just walk into their apartment after knocking but now they were making an effort to lock the front door, although they still often forgot. I had always insisted on locking our door even before the rash of break-ins, since I embraced anything that made me feel safer.
Grant's eyes lit up as he saw the pie in my hand. "Is that coconut pie?" he asked excitedly.
"Yeah," I laughed. "I'll just go put it in the fridge."
I stowed the pie in the fridge, noting the science experiment growing in the back. It suspiciously resembled leftover Chinese food, although it looked more like a furry green creature making itself at home in an open take-out carton.
"I think something's alive in your fridge," I said disgustedly, grabbing the container and throwing it in the trash.
"Hey!" Grant protested. "What if I was going to eat that?"
Sarah smirked. "You should thank her. I think she just saved your life."
I turned around as I heard the sliding glass door leading to their backyard open and saw Marcus and Simon step inside. I couldn't help but notice how good Simon looked. He was dressed like me, in jeans and a t-shirt, but the way he filled them out was drastically different. He grinned when he saw me, walking towards us.
"You made it," he said, seemingly pleased. "I'm glad to see that organizing your room didn't take too long."
"Huh?" Sarah asked, confused. She turned to me. "Since when do you have to organize your room? It's always cl-"
I elbowed Sarah and she looked at me in surprise. "Oh, yeah, it didn't take too long," I replied, trying not to stumble over my words. "Anyways, how's the barbecuing going?"
"Great," Marcus said. "We've got some hamburgers and dogs grilling."
"Next time you should give me more notice," I said. "I could've made some kalbi to grill but I have to marinate that overnight."
Kalbi was a Korean dish of marinated beef short ribs that I often made for barbecuing. Even though my Korean mother had passed away when I was only five and my father hadn't done anything to help me learn about that side of my heritage, I had made the effort to try to embrace it as much as possible. This was especially true when I was younger, and I found that most of my outlet in trying to identify myself as Korean came through food and cooking.
Grant groaned, rubbing his stomach. "That stuff is awesome." Grant turned to Simon. "Seriously, man. You gotta try it some time. It's amazing."
Simon looked over at me, quirking his mouth. "Yet another thing I have to add to my list of stuff you need to make for me. What exactly is it?"
"Oh, it's just a Korean dish of marinated beef," I replied, wishing I had never brought it up. "It's no big deal."
Sarah laughed. "Caitlin is just being modest. You'll see for yourself when you try it."
"Do you know how to make a lot of Korean food?" Simon asked. "I've never had it before."
"Just a few dishes," I answered lightly, sitting down on the couch. I slipped my feet out of my flip flops and curled them under me. Simon had already asked me last night at the bar about my family and my mother who had passed away. I had answered his questions with the least amount of information I could, and I didn't want to go into it any further tonight so I tried to change the subject. "Where's this chili dip I heard about?"
Simon grinned. "Your wish is my command. It's just getting warm in the oven. I'll get it."
As Simon disappeared into the kitchen, Sarah sat down next to me and slipped off her sandals as well.
"What do you guys want to drink?" asked Marcus, always the gracious host. "We have beer, but I can always whip up whatever you'd like."
"I'll take a beer," Sarah replied.
"Me too," I said. I was hoping a drink would calm my nerves a little. I had given myself another one of my pep talks before coming over tonight, but it seemed as ineffectual as the one I had given myself yesterday. I still felt too aware of Simon, making it hard for me to feel completely at ease. I usually felt comfortable around my group of friends, feeling accepted and not worrying about having to explain myself. I was determined to keep it that way.
"I got it," Simon yelled from the kitchen before Marcus could walk over to grab our beers, having overheard our conversation. He walked out clutching two opened beer bottles in one hand and a casserole dish and bag of tortilla chips in the other. He set the casserole dish and tortilla chips on the coffee table and handed Sarah and I the beers. I avoided touching his hand as I took the beer from him.
"Thanks," I murmured, immediately taking a long swig.
"Here it is," Simon announced, opening the bag of chips. "Dig in."
He grabbed a folding chair and slid it next to me, instead of sitting on the other side of Sarah where there was plenty of room on the couch.
I concentrated on taking a chip and scooping it into the concoction in the casserole dish. I took a bite and smiled at Simon. "It's delicious." And it was delicious. There were several layers in the dip, and I could make out seasoned ground beef, beans, cheese, sour cream and a multitude of other ingredients that blended together.
"This is awesome," exclaimed Sarah after she had taken a bite as well. "You sing, you play the guitar, you cook. Is there anything you can't do?"
Simon laughed. "There's plenty."
Grant snorted. "Yeah, I can attest to that."
Simon feigned a wounded look. "So much for family. You'll miss me when I move into my own place."
"Oh, did you get the apartment?" Sarah asked. "Did you talk to Sherry?"
"Yeah, I called her earlier today and stopped by the apartment," Simon said, leaning back into his chair and laying an arm next to mine on the armrest of the couch. I tried to ignore how close his arm was. I could almost feel the warmth of his tanned forearm next to mine and I had
to force myself not to slide my arm down to avoid his close proximity. I thought that would be too obvious. "She called her Dad while I was there and we got everything sorted out. She's leaving next week and then I'll be able to move in."
"That's great!" Sarah exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Now we'll all live on the same street!"
Simon looked over at me, an amused glint in his eye. "What do you think?"
"Me?" I asked cautiously. "Of course it's great. It must be a relief that you found a place to live."
"I meant about the proximity," Simon probed, not letting up.
"That's great, too," I replied, starting to feel annoyance rise. Simon had seemed willing to accept the fact that friendship was the only thing that was going to happen between us, but every now and then he had to throw out a comment that questioned exactly how accepting he was of the situation. "It'll be nice to live so close to your cousin and friends." I stressed the last word, hoping Simon would get the message. It seemed like he did because he threw back his head and laughed. Not the reaction I had been going for.
"Yes, it'll be nice to be close to my cousin and friends," Simon said, mimicking my inflection on the last word. He winked and I just gaped at him, unsure how to respond.
I was saved from having to respond at all by a knock on the door. Marcus' face brightened as he rushed over to the door. "That must be Jenny."
Sarah glanced at me and rolled her eyes. I smiled and shrugged. I hoped one of these days Marcus would gather enough nerve to ask Jenny out.
"Hey guys," Jenny chirped, bounding into the room with her usual enthusiasm.
Sarah and I greeted Jenny and got up to give her a quick hug, as did the guys. Jenny got a drink as Grant and Marcus went back to the backyard to check on the food. Unfortunately, Simon stayed behind and I was acutely aware of his presence beside me.
"Guess what!" Sarah exclaimed, and then continued before Jenny could answer. "Simon got Sherry's apartment! He's moving in next week."
"Awesome!" squealed Jenny. "What day are you moving in? We'll help, of course."
"Friday," Simon replied, taking another sip of his beer. "Most of my stuff is in storage right now and I already scheduled movers to pick up my stuff and drive it over, so that part's done. I wouldn't mind your help unpacking though."
"No problem," Sarah said. "I'd be more than happy to help."
"Me too," Jenny chimed in.
Simon looked at me expectantly and I was relieved to have a valid excuse. "Sorry, I have to work on Friday until closing."
Simon looked disappointed and I didn't allow myself to examine the small little thrill I felt from that. "Oh well. But you'll be at our show on Saturday, right?"
"Of course," I smiled. I was going to get through this awkwardness if it killed me and force Simon to be my friend. Everything would be easier when we were just friends. And I really didn't want to miss their first show. I couldn't deny how curious I was about Simon and his performance with the band.
"Well, that's something," Simon said with a smile.
"Are you nervous?" Jenny asked. "It must be hard to replace members in a band that were already so popular."
Simon gave a half-smile. "I'll just have to win everyone over, I guess," he said, not seeming concerned. I envied his ease and confidence. He just expected things to go his way and they did. I suppose his looks and money didn't hurt. If I were in his position, I would be a nervous wreck. Not that I would ever put myself out there by performing on stage. The mere thought of it had me shaking in my boots.
Marcus and Grant came back in, Grant balancing a large platter of hot dogs and hamburgers. "Dinner's served," he announced, placing the platter on the table next to the chili dip.
We busied ourselves fixing up our plates, Jenny exclaiming appreciation over Simon's dip. As I squirted ketchup onto my burger, I heard Simon chuckle beside me and I looked over at him, with a raised eyebrow. "What?" I inquired.
"I don't think you have enough ketchup on that," Simon commented dryly, indicating my plate. I looked down at the ketchup I had already squirted on my burger. The mound of ketchup was already bigger than the actual burger.
"I know, gross, right?" I said, scrunching up my nose. "I have an addiction to ketchup. I think half of my daily intake of calories is from ketchup."
Simon laughed, his eyes looking at me warmly. "Well, if that's the only thing you're addicted to, I guess life isn't too bad."
His comment made me go still. It made me think of all the ways life was bad. It made me think about what I would do if I had another vision of this beautiful man experiencing a horrific death. I didn't think I could handle it.
"Yes," I replied, trying to muster an answering smile and not really succeeding. "I guess life isn't too bad."
Simon's eyebrows came together at my reaction. "Is life really not too bad?" he asked quietly. His probing discomfited me. Simon seemed to be able to read my reactions too well, which was dangerous. I had spent years practicing to control my reactions until it seemed the world accepted me at face value. But Simon seemed to be too perceptive.
I forced a laugh. "Of course. I'm hanging out with my friends and imbibing on way too much ketchup, which is giving me a sugar high. How could life be better?"
Simon laughed in return, seeming to accept my answer. "I guess there isn't much I can say to that."
I finished with the bottle of ketchup and handed it to Simon. "Here you go."
"Nah," he replied, shaking his head. "I don't like ketchup."
I looked at him aghast. "You don't like ketchup?" I asked in mock horror. "How can you not like ketchup? Everybody likes ketchup!"
Simon grinned. "I got sick from ketchup when I was a little kid and ever since then I haven't been too fond of it," he explained.
"Oh well," I said with an exaggerated sigh. "I guess we can still be friends somehow, although that's a pretty big obstacle."
Simon smiled slyly. "I'll think of a way for us to settle our differences."
I had been feeling an easy camaraderie with Simon, proud that I was navigating the friend territory so well. But his last comment made my stomach flutter. This was what I meant about him sneaking in a comment every now and then that made me think of something besides friendship. But I banished the thought.
"Don't worry," I said quickly, trying to return to an easy banter. "I'll accept you, faults and all."
Simon laughed loudly again. I seemed to amuse him way too much, but I just gave him an answering smirk. I passed the ketchup bottle that Simon had refused to Sarah, who was busy talking to Jenny and the boys.
"Here," I said, handing her the bottle.
Sarah took the bottle and looked at it. "I'm glad to see you saved me some," she joked. She leaned forward so that she could see Simon. "Caitlin has a ketchup fetish."
"Yeah, she's already told me all about it," Simon said with a grin. "And I hate ketchup. We've decided to be friends in spite of it."
I felt a stirring in my heart at his comment that didn't feel pleasant. His comment about us being friends should make me happy. I told myself that a pep talk would be in order later.
"Samantha might stop by," Marcus announced, interrupting my thoughts.
Sarah and Jenny both groaned. "Marcus," Sarah said with exasperation. "Why are you always inviting her to things?"
Marcus shrugged. "I thought you guys were tolerating her. I saw her at the supermarket today while I was buying stuff for the barbeque and it just came up."
Jenny glared at Marcus, who looked disheartened to be receiving such a look from her. "We're nice to her face - kind of. That doesn't mean we like her!"
I couldn't help snorting at her statement. Jenny was the least catty person I knew, and that comment seemed funny coming from her.
"Come on, guys," I said, trying to be the voice of reason. "It's not a big deal. She can be okay." I didn't like Samantha as much as Jenny and Sarah, but I also felt some pity for her. There had to be a reason why she was so insecure and draped herself over
guys. I understood what it felt like to have someone make you feel inadequate your whole life. I was just lucky that I had never felt the need to fill that hole with men. I wondered what had made Samantha try and fill that hole with the attentions of the opposite sex.
Sometimes I wished I didn't feel so much empathy towards people. I wished I could just dislike someone and not care why they were the way they were. But a large part of why I couldn't was because of my visions. Seeing so many people suffer, even in my dreams, made me realize the human frailty in everyone.
Sarah shook her head but smiled at me with affection. "Leave it to Caitlin to be the nice one."
"Oh, okay." huffed Jenny. "But I'm only going to be nice to her cause Caitlin's asking. She has more reason than anyone else to dislike her." Jenny looked over at me and wrinkled her nose. "Why do you have to be so nice to people?"
I laughed at her comment. "That's rich, coming from you," I said with a smile. "You're the nicest person I know."
"Hey," Simon protested with a grin. "Now you know me."
I smirked. "Like I said, Jenny is the nicest person I know."
Simon laughed and Sarah poked me in the leg. "What am I, chopped liver?"
I smiled at Sarah and wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her a lopsided hug. I loved Sarah more than anyone else in the world, but she wasn't nice. But not in a bad way. She stood up for herself and the people she cared about. I believed in standing up for myself as well, but I was willing to cut people some slack, knowing we couldn't understand everything that other people were going through. Like me and my visions. Sarah didn't care. If you hurt her or the people she cared about, she could be ruthless "No," I replied with affection. "You're my sanity."