20. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Katherine
I am now reminded of why I don’t go to parties without Bella or Nick. They’re like a comfort blanket, a buffer, they know how I am with people and these situations.
New people, they don’t. They don’t know or get it, and it’s hard. Harder than I thought it would be. Could I have told Maddie about my anxiety before leaving for the party? Yes, but I had anxiety about that too, so that was a no go. And I’m always so scared of how people will react; will they treat me like I’ll break? Or like I’m a loser?
People are talking around me, laughing about things I don’t know and then there’s me, and unfortunately for me, I am myself. I’m not anyone else, I’m not Maddie who’s telling a funny story having everyone around her hang on her every word and I’m not Ava who’s sitting in her boyfriend’s lap in the chair next to me looking more in love than I think I’ll even understand and I’m most certainly not James who hasn’t stopped looking at me since I walked in the door.
As a group, we’ve managed to take up most of the living room, apart from the part of the floor where some people are dancing.
More of Maddie’s friends arrived not long after us and I was thankful for it. More people meant it was easier for me to slip into the background. People pay less attention to you when there’s more people .
I’m perched on the arm chair that is occupied by one of the guys that Maddie called Steve when we came in and he’s talking with some guy sitting next to him.
In all honesty I’m a people watcher. My personality really is made up of people I’ve met in passing and people I’ve seen on the streets in New York. People watching is my favourite pastime, you learn so much by just taking people in. I’ve noticed this is a weird mix of people. No one really looks like they all know each other and yet every time a new person comes into the room everyone greets them like their all best friends. Normally, I’d be able to adapt better but I’m like a fish out of water right now.
I feel very out of place and so out of my comfort zone. I want to crawl out of my own skin.
Normally, Bella would have been talking to me or would have noticed by this point that I’m not engaging and given me a look. But she’s not here, so I’m looking around the room—and then there it is again.
James eyes. On me. Again .
He’s sitting in a chair somewhat across from me and some girl is talking to him, he’s not paying attention which annoys me. I can’t hear what she’s saying over the music but nevertheless he’s being rude. Yeah I’m sure that’s what I’m feeling, annoyance at him, not her. Not this random girl I don’t know with her hand on his arm and her face near his, her lips so close to his ear.
Yep, definitely him.
Even with me looking right over at him, he hasn’t looked away and it’s unnerving at this point. Maybe it’s the three beers I’ve had before this, but I manage to bring myself to my feet.
His eyes widen but only for a moment when he realises I’m moving towards him, and then just as I’m in front of him, he stands .
I decide this is a threat or maybe a declaration of war because when he was sat, we were maybe at the same kind of height, now he towers over me. Looking down at me, he blinks a few times, one eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for me to speak first and I’m surprised when words actually do come out of my mouth.
“It’s rude to stare,” I tell him, his eyes are dark and I can’t tell if it’s the lighting or maybe what he’s drinking. I try to look in his cup but he moves it before I can and then I find myself wishing I knew what he was thinking.
I almost don’t notice the girl next to him looking at me. Almost.
I watch as his throat moves, visibly swallowing. “I wasn’t staring.” His face hasn’t changed and I hate that when I know my face gives me away every time it’s like a painting of emotions.
“Oh, really?” I ask sarcastically. “What do you call it here then, ‘cause in America, not taking your eyes off another person is called staring.” This has to be the most words I’ve said all evening, I’m pretty sure given the looks I’m getting, some people here thought I couldn’t speak.
I try not to notice that more heads have turned towards us now. Even Ava, whose face has been attached to Sam’s for at least twenty minutes, is now looking at us both, with a little half smirk.
The feeling of retreat is strong. The pit of anxiety is growing in my stomach, I don’t like people looking at me. But as much as I try, my feet don’t move; they are solidly glued to the floor. Or maybe it’s my eyes because for some reason I can’t look away from him either.
He doesn’t say anything else and I think this might be the end of it. I can go get a drink, pretend I didn’t just try to start a fight, but my mouth is moving again before I can stop myself.
“Why don’t you stop skating around it and just fucking say it to my face?”
“Say what? ”
“That you hate me. All your snide little comments and all the weird shit you’ve been doing for weeks but you won’t just say it.” I almost shout. I lower my voice when I notice how close we are now and how hot my face feels. “God, it’s so obvious, you have a huge problem with me.”
“Well I guess I have a problem with you right now, yeah.” He’s staying too calm and I either don’t like it because I seem to be a lot angrier than him, or because I’m causing a scene. I don’t like either of these things. Yet here I am making this whole thing one hundred percent worse and not being able to stop it.
Also he still won’t say it! I don’t know why I want him to, I don’t know why that’ll make me feel better.
It’ll make me forget the kiss.
“Look, Katherine.” I hate the way my name sounds coming from him. The feeling shoots up my spine. “It’s nothing personal.” That means it is . “But I think you already know my problem.”
A laugh slips from my lips. “Well, why don’t you spell it out for me. I’ve always wanted someone who’s not doing anything with their life to explain mine to me.” My ability to play word chess with him right now is gone, I’m far too angry right now to think properly. And I don’t know why.
He scoffs out a laugh and I want to disappear. He doesn’t even blink, like what I’ve said doesn’t even touch him. Yet I feel like he’s all over me. The look in his eyes is dark and I feel like for the first time this won't end nicely.
“Of course, Katherine.” He takes a step forward moving closer to me. Our faces are too close.
I hate that I don’t know how to control this situation. In the private confines of the shop, I’ll give it as good as I get it, but in front of this many people, this many people I don’t know, I’m lost. I want to say something about how I was good enough to kiss a few weeks ago, but I don’t want everyone to know that. Not when it still feels too fresh, too confusing.
The anger that was fuelling me at the start has slipped away, and is now replaced with embarrassment.
My hands are getting sweaty as he gets even closer to me, so close I can smell the salt ingrained into his skin. “You're not doing any more with your life than me, you just want to be in love.” He almost whispers it, but he’s so close, I can hear it plain as day. I know that everyone hears him.
Everyone is watching. I feel like we’re some kind of side show. I feel like all the air has been sucked out of the room the way he’s looking at me, the monologue I want to tell him that's running through my head is screaming to be let out. But I can barely make out a whole sentence. “And tell me what’s wrong with wanting to be in love?”
His classic smirk pulls itself across his face. “I don’t know, being co-dependent for one. You're addicted to it, Katherine, the idea of being in love,” he tells me. “You moved your whole life, not for a job or an actual tangible person, but the idea of a person. If either of us is throwing their life away, it’s you… Sunshine.”
We stare at each other for a minute. I feel like if I move, I might fall and I’m taking this minute to regain use for my own body before I can decide what to do.
I want to leave.
I want to run out of here.
But I don’t.
I’ve had dirty and confused looks from people back home who I had told about my plans but no one had ever said it to me like that.
I feel stupid, like maybe for a minute he’s right. Maybe I’m wasting my time. I can feel my eyes start to water but I don’t give him the satisfaction of letting them spill over my eyes .
No one has ever actually made me completely question everything I had been working towards. I’d quite frankly like to get on a plane and go home in this moment. I’m sensitive, sue me.
Instead, I say, with my teeth gritted and my jaw tight, “You’ve got your entire life to be a prick, how about you take the night off.”
No one makes a sound. I’m worried that if it weren’t for the noise in the other rooms, they might be able to hear my heart pounding out of my chest.
Maddie stands there like she might sink into the floor, I don’t expect her to say anything to him or to defend me. She’s known him longer and I’m happy she’s even bothered to include me. Well, I was happy up until this point anyway.
It doesn’t stop me from thinking about what Bella or Nick might do in this moment. Bella has the classic drink in the face move. I have seen this be performed a couple times in the course of our college time, but I don’t think I can bring myself to ruin someone else’s carpet. I’m not sure if it makes me sad or want to laugh that Nick would try to punch him. Nick’s shorter than James, and even though well built, I hate to say not as much as James—but he’d try none the less. I don’t like my chances at even reaching his face now he’s stood up completely again.
Eventually the urge to fall or punch him leaves my body and I down the rest of my drink, looking at him and then turn and walk into the kitchen and get myself another.
I down that too. Cheap beer tastes the same all over the world I decide. Not great.
I down another beer.
“I’ve never seen anyone get under James’ skin quite like you before.” A voice comes from behind me. A voice with a smirk attached, I can hear it .
I don’t turn or look up from the drink I’m pouring myself again. My skin is warming and tingling, my head is light and I want to laugh but keep a tight voice as I talk.
“I don’t think anyone’s dared to disagree with him before.” I’m drunk, I know, even I cringe a little at my own voice.
A laugh comes from behind me regardless, and I finally turn around.
The guy stood behind me easily stands a foot above me and he’s close enough that I have to lean back on the counter to look up at his face. His hair is so dark I think it might be black and it’s styled in what I think is a mullet. I’ve never seen a guy in New York with one but I’ve seen plenty here in Australia.
I decide he doesn’t remind me at all of James and I like that.
“Pretty big mouth for such a little thing.” He smiles at me. I’m not completely oblivious to the fact he’s flirting, it’s weird but I know it’s happening. So I do the most un-Katherine thing, I flirt back—or try to.
“What’s it they say? ‘Great things in small packages.’” I move closer to him and look him up and down as he does the same. I can’t say what I said was very clever but he doesn’t seem to mind all that much as his eyes rack up from my bare legs to my chest and then hover at my lips for a while before coming back to my eyes.
The sensation of having his eyes all over me and the alcohol in my veins, makes my feet wobble as I move closer. I only stumble slightly, my hand landing on his chest. The feeling of his warm skin under his t-shirt heats my hand and I can’t help feeling the way his muscles tense as my hand moves down a little and I look up at him through my lashes.
Is this what everyone was meaning when they said have fun or live a little ?
He’s looking down at me with a cocky smile, the kind I see everyday in the shop from James but I like his a little more, mostly because of the alcohol, mostly because he’s not him .
“Well, you definitely are a great package.” He laughs, taking my hand from his chest and holding it in his own. His words make me cringe but I’m concentrating on his face. Did I mention he doesn’t remind me of James? “Do you want to get some air?” he says, turning his head towards the back sliding doors leading into the garden.
I’m angry, and on my way to being too drunk, so it seems like a good idea.
If only Bella could see me now.
I nod my head and he leads me through the house. We pass the living room on the way, the group still sat laughing and I catch eyes with him.
James’ eyes flicker from me, to my hand, to the boy holding it. I see this nameless boy make eye contact with him, too and a muscle in James jaw jumps. Something I’ve never seen. I can’t work out the emotion but he looks back at me and then back down at his drink. If this was all it took to really piss him off I would have done it sooner.
We reach the back porch and the warm night air hits my bar legs. No ones really out here considering this is Australia and even at midnight it’s still really nice out. I see boys move near the end of the garden and smoke hover above their heads.
“I’m Kath—” But before I can finish, I’m being turned around and pushed up against the back wall of the house.
Now I really notice how tall he is, he towers over me, with his arm resting on the wall next to my head. I’m not entirely sure how comfortable I feel now.
“Dylan,” he says, his eyes are attached to my lips and he licks his own before crushing his lips to mine.
It’s warm and wet and sloppy and maybe a little gross .
That’s all I can use to describe the way he’s kissing me. It’s not special or great and it doesn't make me feel any of the things I felt kissing James but it’s not terrible. And I still snake my hands around the back of his neck and into his hair out of instinct.
I don’t have to think while I’m doing this. This doesn’t matter, this boy isn’t going to be my soulmate and I’m not thinking about it for once.
My mind swirls as he nips my bottom lip and I let my mouth fall open letting his tongue swirl with mine in the same way. I scrap my fingers across his scalp tugging lightly on his hair, earning myself a moan from him that disappears in my mouth.
A cold wind whips around my ankles and it seems to wake my brain up a little, I decide I kinda don’t want to do this any more. I feel kinda sick and I’m not sure if it’s the beer or the way Dylan’s hand slides up my thigh under my skirt.
“I think maybe we should stop,” I tell him, pulling away from his face as best I can as my head hits the wall behind me and my vision blurs a little more. My feet are planted firmly on the floor and I feel like I’m not in my own body as he pushes his body onto me.
“Don’t do that, Kat, we’re just having a good time,” he tells me like if he says it I’ll believe him, and then my next protest is lost in his lips as he smacks them back on me again. I push at his chest but it seems to do nothing. He’s like a statue, definitely stronger than I gave him credit for.
I can’t think.
I can’t get my mind to do anything.
I can’t get my body to move again.
I can’t breathe.
I squeeze my eyes shut and push him again and he finally falls off me .
I’m frozen, completely unable to move for what feels like hours, but after only a minute or so, I manage to open my eyes again and there Dylan is. On the floor with James hovering over him. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” James snarls at him.
He looks like he might combust. I don't think I’ve ever seen him this angry, this truly angry. I realise that the whole time we’ve been arguing and hating each other, it’s been nothing compared to what he’s really capable of.
Dylan scrambles to his feet, but even then he still doesn't quite hit the same height as James. He goes to step back towards me and I feel myself shrink away, trying so desperately to get even closer to the wall if that was at all possible. But James is quicker and puts his body between us, shielding me.
“James, we were just having some fun.”
“Didn’t fucking look like she was having fun,” he bites back, and I never thought I’d say this, but I feel safe. I feel like nothing can get to me with him right there.
“And what’s it to you? From what I saw, it didn't exactly look like you two cared about each other.” The way he talks literally makes me want to throw up, or wash my mouth out. Easily both. I look around James' body to see that once again I have managed to gather a crowd, people that were at the bottom of the garden are now standing behind Dylan. And people are now huddled at the door leading back into the house. “Or is that it, do you care about that little bitch behind you?” Dylan's words sink into me like a sunburn.
“Watch your fucking mouth.” The heat radiating from James’ back does nothing to calm me or make me feel safe. I feel something take over my body.
It comes thick and fast and it’s oh so familiar to me. I need to move, I need to get away from everyone. I can’t do this in front of him. Or all these people .
“What are you going to do, James?”
My fight or flight kicks in like clockwork and my legs are pulling me away from the garden. The last thing I see before taking flight from the situation is James’ fist coming down on Dylan’s jaw, the sound of cracking bones filling the whole garden.
“Katherine!” I hear someone shout as I shoot through the house and up the stairs.
Quiet.
I need quiet.
I find the restroom and close the door behind me and I sink to the floor by the bath. The tiles are cold under me but it’s not enough. I know there’s nothing I can do and I just have to ride out the storm. Make it to the other side, I can do this, this isn’t new, I know it won’t kill me.
Won’t it?
It feels like it will.
Tears stream down my face.
And then it feels like I can’t breathe.
Like someone’s taking the air right out of me and standing on my chest.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Breathe.
My heart’s pounding so hard it’s going to jump right out of me.
Where am I? What can I feel and smell?
Nothing.
My hands are shaking so much, I clench them together against my chest but it only makes the rest of me shiver .
“Katherine, breathe for me.” That’s not my voice and I’m not initially sure it’s even real, because it sounds like my dad. Or I think it does.
I honestly don’t care, I haven’t had a panic attack like this in years and it hurts.
Mentally.
Physically.
Emotionally.
It hurts.
“You can do it.” My dads right, it’s a basic human action, something you’re born already knowing how to do.
My dad takes my hand and places it on his chest. I feel his heart beating at a normal, non-panicked rate and it reminds me what mine should be doing.
“Do it with me, Katherine.” He takes a big breath in, so deep I can feel the air fill his lungs as he does. “And out.”
I follow suit and regain some kind of control of my own body but the panic is still seething through me. “Good.” The voice reaches up, wiping the tears from my eyes. His thumb wipes over my cheek and then rests on my face for a moment.
The warmth of it seeps into my cool damp skin and it’s nice, calming. I lean into it not even thinking, my eyes closing ever so slightly. The panic floats out my body like a storm being moved on by the wind. The only person who was able to bring me down that quickly was Dad.
“ I can’t do this, Dad. ” Fifteen year old me cries, it’s like my chest is going to explode and cave in all at the same time. There is so much panic running through me. I don’t know where it started or how I can stop it.
Why?
I can’t even remember what I was thinking about two minutes ago .
“ Yes you can, Katherine. ” Dad takes my hands in his, he’s sitting in front of me in my bedroom. It’s dark and I suddenly remember I’m keeping him from getting rest after this night shift and that only makes me feel worse.
“ Do it with me, Kat .” He takes a breath in and so do I and then he lets it out and so do I. “ And another. ” I breathe with him again and again until I remember what’s going on again.“ See, I told you you could do it .”
“That’s it Sunshine, in and out, like me.” My eyes fly open when the voice speaks again.
I focus on his voice, I focus on the way his face looks when he’s looking at me right now and I hold on to the way he just called me Sunshine like a life line and I don’t like it.
“James.” The adrenaline from the panic attack is still working its way out of my body and that mixed with the alcohol I was drinking all of ten minutes ago, I’m lucky if I’m able to have a whole conversation.
“Let’s just sit here for a minute,” he says and he does, he sits crossed legged in front of me like a three year old waiting for a story to be read to him and holds my hands.
As we just sit in the silence with each other, I notice his knuckles as he runs his thumb over mine, red and raw. That’s my fault. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him as if we’re hiding from something.
And I am, because the minute we’re out that door, he’ll go back to being an ass and I’ll go back to hating him. And for some reason, that I’m sure is panic attack induced, I don’t want that.
The confusion on his face washes away when I glance down at our entwined hands, he doesn’t make an effort to move them or untangle himself from me. “Never apologise for someone else’s actions Katherine. He’s the one who should be sorry, not you.” The look on his face is so new I don’t know what to make of it. This is new for us, too new for me to work it out, too new for me to know what’s going on and I’m too tired to play anything with him.
“Okay, then. I’m sorry to ruining your night,” I say, trying to pull one of my hands free from his grip to wipe my still leaking eyes, but he stops me. Reaching up to my face and wiping them for me.
He watches me closely as he does, and I feel far too exposed. Not in a physical way, although maybe that too, but in an emotional way. The only people who have seen me have a panic attack have been Dad, Mom, Bella and Nick. And now James. He’s seen me at my weakest, my true lowest point. I can’t even begin to think about how this might shift us even more. Am I a real person to him now? Is he to me?
“Parties aren’t really my thing, anyway,” he says, a smile peeking through his words. The air is knocked out of me again as I see it happen.
We just sit there again in our own strange comfortable silence and then I yawn. The after effect of an earth shattering panic attack. My limbs feel heavy and I think if I closed my eyes right now, they wouldn’t open again.
“I’ll drive you home,” he tells me, not as a question but as a statement. I could argue, I really could just because it’s him, I could tell him a number of things to be mad and a bitch. But arguing would take so much more effort than I currently have. As he stands, one of my hands still in his, he pulls me up once I give him the other, and I don’t fight it.
It’s only when we exit the bathroom after I’ve made myself not look like I haven’t just had a panic attack, something comes back to me. “You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking,” I tell him, pulling him back using the one hand he’s entwined with his own again. The feeling warms my whole body again.
He stands so close to me. “Water, Katherine. I don’t drink,” he explains, his face completely flat. I know that he’s telling me the truth. I had just assumed he was drinking too, I didn’t even consider anything else. The concept of a twenty-five year old guy not drinking hadn’t even crossed my mind.
So much so that I’m not too sure how to answer him. “Okay,” is all I manage to say, not that I’m sure it’s really a response.
After that I let him lead me down the stairs, through the house, out the front door and the whole two minutes down the street to his truck. Not once does he let go of my hand. I don’t like the way I feel about it, I don’t like the lighting bolt that goes up my arm every time he rubs his thumb over mine. I don’t like the way that when he’s leading me I don’t have to think, I’m not worried where I’m going.
I’m tired and kind of done with this evening now, and I can’t help but wonder what Bella and Nick are up to now.
I don’t say a word as I get into the truck, or as he drives off towards Ella’s. I don’t ask why he doesn’t drink or why he’s helping me.
I trust him. I think that’s my only option right now.
We’re both completely silent as he drives, the only noise that passes through the car is the crashing waves around us seeping through my open window.
I trust that feeling I got when I touched him was thanks to the alcohol, and the feeling I get when he’s near me was a product of a late night.
When he pulls into the driveway, I can’t help myself from breaking the silence, a small part of me still drunk and feeling exposed already.
My body falls against the seat, only my head turning toward him. “Why are you helping me? Why not just leave me to deal with that on my own?” I’m so tired of being confused, and if he won’t say it, I will.
He keeps his eyes fixed on the house in front of us, his hands so firm on the steering wheel even his bloody knuckles turn white. “Katherine, I don’t think you really want an answer to that. This isn’t the time.” His words are so sure and steady.
I’m no less confused than I was before. “What do you mean? That’s not—” I stop and start again. “I do want an answer.” I’m sure I do. “I’m really tired of being confused all the time when it comes to you.”
He finally turns towards me, his own eyes glassy and I want to lean forward and touch his face.
No I don’t.
“I never hated you.” The way he says it, it’s almost like a confession to himself, as if he hadn’t realised it until he said it to me. He leans forward and I think he’s going to touch me again, I don’t know if I want him to.
I do.
“You’re exhausting, you know that right?” Even as I say it, I know my face gives away what I really want, that I want him to hold me. Kiss me.
But he reaches past me to open the door. “Go to bed, Katherine.”
I can’t even look at him as I unbuckle myself and get out. I feel embarrassed and like he still holds all the cards, while I’m left empty handed and exposed.
I grab a glass of water when I get in and watch out the kitchen window as he pulls out of the driveway. His eyes locked with mine through the glass.
When I get in bed I don’t fall asleep for hours.
I watch Bella’s Instagram story.
I catch a glimpse of Nick in one of them—he’s not dressed up, of course.
I text my mom about nothing in particular, just that I miss her.
I watch an old video of Dad, I cry.
Then eventually sleep washes over me, but I don’t think about why I felt so warm with him or about the words he said.
I’ll never think about that again.