Friday, October 21
(Kate)
It's 8:12 pm when I knock on Keller's door, and butterflies start fluttering in my stomach. I've never been the stomach-butterfly-fluttering type of girl, so it feels strange. I'm stone sober, but it feels like I've had a few drinks and though my mind's not convinced it's buzzed yet, my body's confessing the indulgence. I think I just fell in love with butterflies.
After Keller opens the door and I step inside, he takes my coat. We don't say anything. It's a little awkward. Not uncomfortable, just awkward. So, I offer, "It's not too late to back out, dude. You sure you still trust me now that you've had a few days to think about it?" This trust thing with him is a big deal for me. There are different degrees of trust, and my general feeling is that most people are good, therefore, I trust most people. Friendship is vital to me and trust is part of that. But on a deeper level, there's trust. Trust is something I don't toss around lightly. Very few people have ever earned it: Grace, Gus, and Audrey. That's about it. It's something that takes years to build. For some reason, I feel like Keller has already fallen into this deeper category. Which is good, but also a little scary because it happened so fast.
He smiles and with it the awkwardness disappears. "Implicitly."
Good. Fucking. Answer. "Okay. Let's get this party started."
His bottom lip is sucked in under his upper lip when he smiles again. His eyes are amused. He wants to say something, but he's thinking better of it. Instead, he grabs a folding chair from the closet and sets it up in the open space behind the loveseat. I'm watching him go through the motions, but I'm not really watching; I'm daydreaming. I'm thinking about what his chest looks like under that shirt. I'm thinking about how warm his skin feels there, and the defined muscle underneath. I'm thinking about what he might look like under those—"
"Wet or dry?" He pauses when I don't answer and points to his hair. "Do you want me to wet it?"
Oh. Right. His hair. That's why we're here. "Um, wet I think. Isn't that how the pros do it?" Audrey's always cut my hair. Twice a year in the Hawthorne kitchen, whether I needed it or not. I've never been to a salon.
"Wet, it is. I'll be right back."
Keller disappears to the bathroom and reappears two minutes later wearing only his jeans. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. He looks fucking beautiful shirtless. My mind floods and I feel like he can see every x-rated thought. And now I'm all fluttery in the stomach again. What the hell is wrong with me?
He sits in the chair, and I try to act casual. "What's it gonna be, Mr. Banks? Trim? Buzzcut? I'm up for anything." Goddamn, am I ever.
"I was going to say just a trim, but what do you think? You think I should try something different?"
"Nope. I like what you've got going on." I do. So much.
"Trim it is then."
And now I'm a whole different flavor of nervous because I don't want to screw this up. "Keller, dude, is there some sort of backup plan if I jack this up?"
He laughs and shrugs. "It's only hair, Katie. If you jack it up, which you won't, we shave it off."
That didn't help. "Ah, no pressure."
He's completely at ease. "None at all."
Once I start cutting, every other thought, the nervous and the naughty, seems to fall away like pieces of hair. He really does have spectacular hair. It's dark brown, almost black and there's a slight wave to it that adds volume more than curl. It's thick, there's a ton of it, but the strands are baby fine and so soft and shiny. He wears it a little on the long side. It falls just below his ears on the sides and touches his collar in the back. And it's always on the defiant side, which in my opinion is best. I don't like it when guys try too hard with their hair. Naturally disheveled is sexy.
An hour later, I finish up. The conversation has been minimal. I've been focused on not turning Keller's locks into a debacle, and he's allowed me that focus by keeping quiet. After taking a look in the bathroom mirror, he returns to me sweeping up the hair on the floor. I smile at him because I didn't screw it up.
"Well, you're certainly not fast, but you are thorough. Good job."
I laugh. "Thorough's my middle name. Or maybe I just wanted you to feel like you got your money's worth."
"Every penny. Thanks, Katie. You want something to drink? I've got a few beers in the fridge. You earned it."
I want to stay, but my conscience is nagging the hell out of me. He has a girlfriend. I'm sure of it. I shouldn't be here alone with him, especially with the dirty thoughts that have started running themselves on a loop through my mind again. "No, thanks. I probably better head back to the dorms."
He glances at the ground and a look of disappointment flashes across his face before he looks back up at me and smiles. "Did you drive or walk?"
"I drove. It's fucking freezing out there."
He laughs. "Freezing." He's teasing me. He grabs his hoodie off the loveseat and slips it on. "I'll walk you outside."
We're standing next to the driver's door of my car, and I can't help but smile inside because I've never had a guy walk me to my car before. Again, my mind knows this isn't a date, but the gesture is chivalrous. I'm usually not into that type of thing, but tonight I guess I am.
"Thanks again, Katie."
"You're welcome. It feels good to be out from under the weight of debt and IOUs."
We both laugh and then the laughter fades to silence. We're just looking at each other now like we don't know what to do next. This could go on all night, so I do what I would do if this were any of my other friends. I open up my arms. "Come here."
He's slow to react, but when he does, and his arms wrap around me, I'm overcome. Some people excel in the art of hugging. They somehow manage to hug you with their whole being, not just their arms. Their warmth surrounds every inch of you. It makes you feel cherished and comforted.
Keller has mastered the art of hugging.
The dreamy hug lasts about twice as long as your average hug, but not nearly as long as I'd like it to. When we separate I feel the cold and instinctively reach for the door handle to get in my car.
"Drive safe, Katie."
"Always. Have a great weekend, dude."
"Chicago in the morning. I'm back early Monday morning." He's smiling.
That is why I behaved myself. Chicago. His other life. His girlfriend. "Have fun. See you Monday."
"Monday," he repeats. "I'll see you Monday."
"Good night, Keller."
He nods. "It was. Good night, Katie."