Monday, November 21
(Kate)
Me: Dinner. Cafeteria. 7:00. I won't take no for an answer.
Clayton: That was not a proper invitation Katherine.
Me: Fine. Pleeeeeeeease. I miss you.
Clayton: I miss you too. See you at 7:00.
Clay's waiting for me at our table when I get to the cafeteria. It's 7:07.
I set my tray on the table and hug him before I sit down. "God, it's been a long time since I've seen you." I eye him up and down. "You're looking good, my friend, dapper as ever." He does. His bright pink sweater and green dress pants are adorable, and he looks so much happier than the last time I saw him.
His cheeks blush, and he bats his eyelashes. "Thank you, Katherine." And then he looks concerned. He's staring at me. "Katherine, is everything okay? You look a little pale. And you look like you've lost weight. Don't get me wrong, you're still absolutely stunning, but something seems off."
I'm not here to discuss me, that's for sure, so I sweep it under the rug, "I'm fine. I was a little sick last week. It's nothing you need to worry about."
He doesn't look convinced.
I change the subject. "So, how's everything in Minneapolis? How's Morris?" He's been staying at Morris's every night and commuting to Grant only for classes. This has been going on since I found out about The Asshole, Ben Thompson. I try not to think badly of people, but fuck that guy.
It's like watching a cartoon character come to life in front of me; there are hearts in his eyes. "Morris is wonderful. I never thought I'd find love, Katherine, but I love him. Everything about him." He looks around conspiratorially and leans in to whisper, "I'm moving to Los Angeles with him after New Year's. His uncle's opening up a club there and wants him to manage it since he's done so well with the one here."
"Holy shit, Clay! L.A.? That's a big decision." I'm shocked.
He smiles, and it's the smile of an excited child. "I know. Isn't it exciting?"
I nod, because, yeah, it is exciting. "Good for you, dude." I mean it, so I say it again, "Good for you."
He knows I mean it. "Thank you, Katherine."
"I don't want to sound like an overbearing bitch, because I'm not judging either way, but I have to ask. You're leaving because it's the right choice for you and the direction you want your life to take, right? You're not running away from the bad stuff here, are you? Because it would make me sad to know that your friends here lose you because of some douche-y asshole."
He laughs. "No. I think I need to get out of the pool and go swim in the ocean. I've never lived in a big city before."
I get it, so I repeat, "Good for you." And then the nagging side of me kicks in. "Just promise me you won't quit school. Get your degree, dude. The world could do with a well-dressed accountant." I don't know why, but the thought of Clay sitting in an office doing something as mundane as accounting has always struck me as funny. His character is too grand to be contained behind a desk.
He rolls his eyes and raises his right hand as if to show there's sworn honesty in his response, "Yes, Mother, I promise not to drop out of school. Besides, who else is going to do your taxes and retirement planning?"
Ouch. That hurt. Right in my heart that hurt. I don't want Clayton to know I probably won't ever need to do taxes again. I force a smile instead.
He rubs his hands together and smiles deviously. "I heard a delicious rumor from Pete," he says, pointing at me, eyes twinkling, "that you and Keller are officially dating." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Any truth to it?" He smiles again. "And don't leave out any of the naughty bits."
I'm stone-faced. "Pete's feeding the rumor mill? I'm gonna have to talk to him."
Clay's eyes are wide, expectant. "Well, Katherine?" He extends his arms over his head and points down at himself dramatically. "I'm dying over here."
I laugh and nod. "There may be a bit of truth to that rumor."
He claps the quick, hummingbird wing clap that he always does when he's excited. "Oh my God, Katherine. I'm so happy for you." Then his hands still and he's whispering again. "Katherine, I know you're not the superficial type and neither am I, okay, who am I kidding, maybe I am, c'est la vie. But that boy is hotter than a tamale."
Clayton cracks me up, but I agree wholeheartedly. "Yes...yes, he is."
He squeals. "Not that I'm trying to rush things between you, because I know you both need to finish school first, and maybe do some traveling. I really think you should see Europe someday, at least France...oh, and the Greek Isles," he rambles, "but I desperately hope things work out between the two of you because... Oh. My. God. You two would have the loveliest children ever genetically created." He's beaming.
His adorable smile softens the blow that comes with the words. I'll never have that. Never. And that sucks.
When we finish up dinner, we promise to stay in touch better than we have these past few weeks. I love Clayton, and I want to make sure he's okay until he leaves and moves on to the next chapter of his life...and I move on to mine.
I hug him at his car, and it's so fucking hard to let him go.
I try not to think about dying, but I can't help it lately. And that makes me sad. I don't want to be sad, because in reality...I have a pretty awesome life.
Today, my life is awesome.
I don't want to think about tomorrow.
Or the day after that.
So I repeat to myself: Today, my life is awesome.