Friday, November 11
(Kate)
The appointment with Dr. Connell is every bit as depressing and hopeless as I hoped it wouldn't, but knew it would be. Same tests, worse results—more news. I can't really call it bad news at this point, it's just news. I vowed when this all began that I wouldn't feel sorry for myself, but on the drive from Minneapolis back to Grant, I decide to give myself until midnight to wallow in it.
Wallow like a motherfucker.
I now have a prescription for some stronger pain meds, which I stop and get on my way home, but by the time I reach the dorms I decide that tonight I will medicate with alcohol. I'll drink until I'm numb. Until I can't feel the pain. Until I can't remember what I'm trying to forget. I'll figure out how to cope with this again tomorrow. Tonight I'm going to forget.
Forget like a motherfucker.
I turn my cell phone off as I walk down the hall to my dorm room, and throw it in my bag. As luck would have it, Sugar is here. My plan for all-out ruination is falling into place. "Hey, dude, how much alcohol do you have in here?" I don't know who buys it for her, but the girl always has alcohol hidden in her closet. I think it's part of the entertainment when her suitors come calling.
She looks a little shocked. We don't talk much, and it's not like me to bust through the door asking questions, making demands, especially something like this. "Umm, I don't know. What're you looking for?"
"Not beer, other than that I don't care."
I've thrown her off her game, and she's too confused to give me any of her usual attitude. "Okay. Let's see." She rifles through her closet and pulls out a bottle of cheap wine, a fifth of whiskey that's almost empty, and a pint of vodka that's three-quarters full. She seems disturbingly excited to show off her stash. In the world of illegal activity, this is child's play. Still, she's grinning like a crime lord flaunting her illicit business. I file the thought away and vow to address Sugar's inevitable train wreck at a later time. A time when I'm not in the midst of my own fucking derailment. Maybe tomorrow.
I fish through the pocket of my jeans and pull out a twenty. I throw it on the floor and snatch up the vodka. "Thanks." I check my other pocket to make sure I've got my dorm room key, unzip my coat, stuff the bottle inside, zip it up, and walk out the door without another word.
It's time for dinner, but I skip it in favor of the bottle in my coat. It's cold outside, so I head to the closest building that's least likely to be occupied on a Friday night, the library. I know this because I've spent plenty of Friday nights here. The same guy is always working the desk, and he's usually asleep by nine o'clock. I could sit in the stacks drinking all night and never see another soul.
So, that's exactly what I do. I find a little corner in the biography section, plop down on the carpet, and pull out my bottle. I pace myself because I'm shooting for incapacitation, not death. The vodka burns going down. I've never liked the taste of straight alcohol. It's flammable, for God's sake, and it tastes that way. The warmth starts radiating from my belly, and soon enough my ears are hot, and I can't feel my nose or my fingertips. The titles on the spines of the books on the shelf next to me start to blur. I take another glug. The next time I glance at them, the books themselves are barely distinguishable from each other—they're hazy strips of color lined up next to each other. I'm having a little trouble reading the clock on the wall behind me because every time I tilt my head to try to focus the room starts spinning. I think it says 11:45. My time's almost up. It's almost midnight.
Good thing the bottle is almost empty. I drain the last few drops and stuff it back in my coat. For some reason, I feel like it's time to take a walk. I wander back out into the cold, leaning toward the dorms, but at the last second my feet decide to stumble on a new course. I take a right toward Main Street.
(Keller)
The beating on the door wakes me. I squint at my clock. Without my glasses, it's hard to read. 12:47 am. The beating starts up again. Dunc must've forgotten his key. I thought he was staying at Shel's tonight. I strip the covers back and stretch before I climb out. I'm only in my boxers, and I turn away as the cold air pours in from the open door, shocking my bare skin. "What the hell, Dunc? Hurry up." No one steps inside.
When I look back outside, I realize that it's not Dunc...it's Katie. A Katie I don't recognize. If she looked sick yesterday, it's nothing compared to tonight. She looks pallid and frail. Defeated. She's soaking wet. It's snowing, and I wonder how long she's been outside. Her teeth are chattering, and her lips look blue. She's wearing her plaid wool coat, but no hat or gloves. It's not much above zero.
She still hasn't stepped inside. She's waiting on me. I grab her arm and pull her. "Get in here." She stumbles and I catch her by the arm. Her eyes blink too slowly. "Are you drunk?"
"You always have been one of the smartest people I know," she says, her speech slow and deliberate.
I half carry her to the loveseat and make her sit down. I take off her shoes, and when I unzip her coat to take it off, an empty bottle of vodka falls out.
I pick it up. "Did you drink all of this?"
She squints at the bottle in my hands and nods. "Yes. I did." As small as she is, that would be like me drinking a fifth in a night, which I know from experience is not a good idea.
Her hands and face feel like ice. "How long have you been outside?" Every piece of clothing is soaking wet.
She shrugs pitifully.
All I can think about is getting her warm first, and sober second. I take her hand in mine, and when she stands slowly, I walk her to the bathroom. I place her in the shower and pull her shirt over her head. She has bandages wrapped around both arms at her elbows. She said she was going to the doctor today. They must've drawn blood. The thought brings a lump to my throat. Is she in pain? Is everything okay? Seeing this kills me. When I unbutton and unzip her jeans, she doesn't protest. I don't think she even knows what's going on. As I peel the wet denim down her legs, I can't help but think about how many times I've fantasized about this very moment. I also can't help but think about how wrong it feels right now. I'm kneeling in front of her. "Put your hands on my shoulders," I say. I flinch from her cold fingers when she does. After she steps out of the jeans, I turn her so she's facing away from me. I don't want to see her this way. My stomach clenches and I feel like I'm violating her. I close my eyes and unfasten her bra. After slipping her arms out of the straps, I drop it on the floor behind me. Then I pull down her panties. My eyes still squeezed shut tight, I feel around on the wall to turn on the water. I give her a warning, like I would with Stella. "I'm turning on the water, Katie. I want you to stay in here until you warm up, okay?"
"Okay." She sounds so tired.
I gather her wet clothes and put them in the dryer before I put on a T-shirt. I decide to grab a T-shirt and a pair of boxers for her, too. I don't have anything that will fit her, so we'll have to make due until her clothes are dry.
I knock on the door before I enter the bathroom because I feel like a pervert just barging in. Hell, I feel like a pervert knocking first, too. "You doing all right, Katie?"
"Yeah, I'm warm." Her voice echoes from inside the shower.
"Give yourself another minute. You were freezing. I'm going to leave a towel and some clothes here on the floor. Take your time."
Five minutes later, I hear the water shut off. I walk to the closed door and listen in case she falls down or needs me. I hear her bang into the wall a few times but she sounds like she's doing all right, so I take a seat on my recliner to wait.
When the door opens, and she comes out, she still looks drunk, but she doesn't look so miserable anymore. The T-shirt is so long on her that I can't see the boxers underneath, which is unbelievably sexy. Her hair is twisted up in a towel the way only girls know how to do. She's more alert. "Thanks, Keller."
"You hungry?"
She stops to think. It takes longer than it should. "A little. I didn't eat dinner. It was a liquids-only evening."
"Well then, let's get you something more substantial," I say. I reheat the leftover fettuccine alfredo I made earlier tonight. I didn't put chicken in it like I usually do. I guess I was thinking about Katie.
It takes her forever, but she finishes every last bite. I don't mind because it gives me an excuse to look at her mouth. And to think about how it tasted, how soft it was when I kissed her less than a week ago.
The fork clinks against the empty plate when she sets it down, and it brings me back out of my daydream. "That was really good, Keller."
I smile because she sounds almost like herself again. "Thanks. How're you feeling?" She looks better, too. She's removed the towel from her head and her hair is dry but untamed. She looks like Katie again.
"Pretty good right now. My plan seems to have worked. Probably not so good in the morning, though."
I don't share with her that it is morning. It's after 2:30. "Probably not so good in the morning," I agree. "What do you mean your plan worked?"
She shakes her head like she doesn't want to talk about it. The arm bandages are gone. Bruises and angry needle pricks revealed that were hidden underneath before. I point, and she immediately folds her arms across her chest to hide them. "Did you see the doctor today?"
She nods.
"Did they figure out what's wrong?"
She huffs and it's bitter. "They already knew." She stretches her arms out in front of her. They look worse held out for me to see. My stomach hurts again. "This is what they do to make themselves feel better. To feel like they're doing their jobs." The bitter huff again. "It's a game, though, because it doesn't change anything." She draws out the word "anything" like it's three distinct words.
Something is very wrong. I feel like throwing up. "What doesn't change, Katie?"
She looks up at me and smiles, but it's the saddest thing I've ever seen, because it's her most honest, genuine smile paired with hopeless eyes. "The end."
The needle on my anxiety gauge just pegged out. My heart is racing. "What's going on?
She doesn't answer, and this eerie silence settles between us.
I'm shaking now, I'm so worked up. I'm nervous, and I'm scared, and I'm frustrated. Out of desperation, I yell, "Tell me what in the hell is going on!"
Nothing. She's just sitting there, but she's starting to tremble.
More yelling, "I love you, Katie!" It's a declaration and a promise. It's also clarification, because I don't know what's going through her mind, but she needs to know how much I care about her. How much I love her.
Her bottom lip starts quivering and her eyes fill with tears. "Please don't say that."
I pull my hair because I don't know what else to do with myself. "Dammit, I love you. Why is that such a bad thing? I know you love me, too. Just let me in. Say it." My patience is shot.
The tears chase each other down her cheeks, and she sniffs. "I do. I love you." Her voice is quiet and defeated.
This is not the way you want to hear someone tell you they love you. It guts me. I sigh and look at the ceiling before looking back at her and without knowing why I'm yelling again. I can't stop yelling. "Then what's the problem?! You love me! I love you!"
She's reached her limit and erupts back, "That's the fucking problem! You love me back! It was never supposed to be this way!"
"Goddammit, Katie," I sigh. "That's not your choice to make. It's mine. I fell in love with you. It would've happened whether you loved me back or not. It's impossible not to love you. You're the most incredible woman I've ever met in my life. Why can't I love you? Why?"
She stands, throws her arms in the air, and screams like I've never heard anyone scream before. It's painful and lonely. It's fear and rage. It's exasperation. "Because I'm dying, that's why! I have cancer!" She drops back into the loveseat like the words drained her of all energy. "I'm dying," she says, her words turning to sobs.
I feel like someone just stabbed me in the heart. The pain I felt when Lily died was the worst I've ever experienced in my life...until this moment. It feels like someone is twisting the knife only to pull it out and plunge it back in again. Over and over. My heart just broke, for the second time in my life. I can't move. I can't speak. I can't breathe.
Eventually, she wipes the tears from her face with her forearm. I'm moments away from panic when the shift happens. I realize that she's staring at me. And when Katie holds you in a stare...she holds you. You feel it. It's physical, like you're pinned in place, unable to move, unable to breathe. She stands, walks over, and stops when her knees come to rest against mine. I'm at her mercy and despite what just happened, there's no place I'd rather be. She looks down at me sitting in front of her with those unfathomable jade eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Her eyes never leave mine. "Keller, if I asked you for a favor, would you do it?"
The way she's looking at me I know, without a doubt in my mind, I will do whatever she asks of me. You want me to jump off a cliff? Okay. Walk out in front of a speeding bus? Sure, why not.
"I want one night with you. Just one. I know it's selfish and so wrong of me to even ask, but—"
My lips are on hers before she finishes her thought. Claiming her before she changes her mind. Without breaking our kiss, I reach down and grab hold of her thighs and lift her until her legs are wrapped around my waist. Then I walk us to my bed. I know I should go slowly, but there's so much adrenaline in my system that I can't. I want this too much.
She's not holding back either. Her kisses are assertive and demanding. When I lay her down, she reaches for the hem of my T-shirt, and I shrug it off. My legs are bent, straddling her waist. I'm hovering over her. She runs her hands across my chest and traces her fingertips down my stomach. I shudder and can't suppress the moan that escapes me. Her hands continue down to the ill-fitting boxers she's wearing. Her fingertips hook the waistband on either side, and she pushes them down over her hips and I help her shimmy them off. Lifting the hem of her shirt, I pull it over her head. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes greedily take in her naked body beneath me. She glows in the light of my bedside lamp. If it's possible for a body to look graceful, even at rest, hers does. She's lithe, and even though she's incredibly thin, the telltale signs of an athletic past remain. Her lean build is complimented by the silkiness of her skin and a softness that is all woman. She's a goddess.
I need to slow down. I mentally coach myself, Slow down, man. Slow...the fuck...down.
With Lily, I was reserved in the bedroom. Held back by my insecurities, inexperience, youth, and a partner who was much the same. I'm not complaining. That was a different time.
But this is now. Right now. And Katie fills me with a confidence I never knew I had. She strips away my fear. I throw every reservation I've ever had out the window. And I take my time. I explore, kiss, lick, nibble, and touch every inch of her body. I'm categorically thorough, memorizing every detail: the elegant curve of her neck where it sweeps down into the sharp angles of her collarbone, her breasts that are at once petite but also round, soft, and firm—they're perfect. The indention of her belly button that begs to be licked, and the inside of her wrist that feels like silk under my touch. I'm rewarded with moans and gasps in all the right places, as well as some I didn't expect. She's extremely vocal with her need and appreciation. I could get off on the sounds and words coming out of her mouth alone. When my lips find hers again, she rolls us over, and I find myself on the receiving end of exploration. She tugs off my boxers and her hands and mouth pass over my entire body: kissing, sucking, rubbing, touching. I'm panting, calling out her name, begging her not to stop. It's eroticism at its goddamn best. I've fantasized about her, but this is more. This is so much more. My every nerve is on fire, thrashing, screaming to be clutched, twisted, ravaged, and wrung out.
When the time comes, and I tell her I don't have a condom, she begs, "Please, Keller. I need this. I need you." Her voice aches. I know this is where I should stop...I know...but I don't. I can't. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want to be buried deep inside her right now. I roll her gently to her back, and her knees fall to the sides. Her eyes are closed, and she's breathing heavily.
"Look at me, Katie." Her eyes flutter open slowly, and they're dark with desire. She doesn't blink. "I want to look into those beautiful eyes while I make love to you."
As I slide slowly inside her, she moans, and her eyes drift shut. Goddamn...
"Open your eyes," I coax.
Her eyes find mine again. I kiss her once and pull back so I can see those lust-filled eyes.
We find a rhythm quickly, and the feeling of her skin against mine is all I'm focused on. "You feel so good, babe." I'm breathless.
We rock against each other, and she forces the pace. She never takes her eyes off mine. I will never forget this as long as I live. When she calls out my name and begins to quiver beneath me, I come undone. "Katie. Katie. Katie." I can't stop saying her name.
As our bodies still, I roll to her side suddenly aware of just how small she is. I feel as if I'll crush her.
There's a dreamy look in her eyes. She's utterly and completely satisfied. All of her features and angles softened. I can't even begin to explain how much I love the way she looks right now.
"My God, Keller, that was incredible. That's it. It's official. I'm going to hell."
I smile because I can't help myself. No one can ever take this from me. "I'd follow you there."
"No need to follow. Take your time, I'll wait for you." She entices me with a soft kiss.
I return the kiss and deepen it. She responds. I tell her how much I love her and how beautiful she is between every kiss. Though she's keeping up with me, I know she's tired. Reality is setting in.
She's sick.
I press my lips against hers one last time, and make a silent vow to make the most of every second I have left with her and to start living my life the way I want to live it.
I squint at the clock. It's almost five o'clock in the morning. "We should get some sleep. You know I'm not letting you out of this bed today, right?"
She smiles and curls into my side. "I hope not."