Katie
I sobbed in the back of the bus. My thoughts filled with the first time I’d met Levi Walker.
I was six years old, and I didn’t speak. The world wasn’t silent to me, but I didn’t use my voice for fear that others would leave me like my mother did. I was afraid to talk, words choking inside me at times. At other times, I found it easier to listen and observe, rather than voice my opinion. Children should be seen and not heard. It’s an old saying, but my father disagreed. I’d overhear him arguing with my grandmother about wanting to hear my voice again. He wanted to know who stole my laughter as I didn’t do that either. I’d bite my cheek and swallow the pain to hold giggles deep inside.
One day I was riding my bike near our home. We lived with my grandmother at the time, and my older cousins, Maddie and Meghan, were in charge of me for the day. Maddie liked boys, a lot, as she was in high school, but Meghan was slowly noticing them, too. I followed along, listening, as I always did while we circled a few blocks, and then doubled back past a house my father had worked on earlier in the summer. He was several things—a handyman, an audio repair man, an owner of both businesses. We’d already met Emily and I could see my father was different with her, but I didn’t notice everything.
As we rode around the block that housed Emily’s home and the Mueller’s, where my father had worked, Maddie was encouraging Meghan to draw the boys’ attention while they played basketball in the street. Meghan went right through their game and the boys shouted after her, calling her names while one boy whistled. I couldn’t keep up, my little legs peddling as fast as they could go, but my foot slipped off the pedal and my ankle caught. I lost my balance, and the bike skidded in loose gravel. Down I went, scraping my knee.
Most of the boys were still watching Meghan and Maddie ride away, but one boy came over to me.
Tears spilled down my face as my fingers circled around the bloody mess. I made no sound as the salty streaks slipped down my cheeks.
“That’s quite a cut,” the boy said, crouching down to look at me. I didn’t look up, still watching the seeping red scratches. “You’re very brave,” he added.
My head shot up at the words and eyes that looked like chocolate stared down at me. My lip trembled, but I remained calm. He took a deep breath, and I followed. Before I knew it, I was breathing with him, or he was breathing with me. Either way, it stopped the tears.
“Can you stand?” he asked, holding out a hand for me. His palm was sweaty, his fingers thick, but he supported me as I rose off the street. He remained squatting before me. He lowered his face while his free hand came toward my knee. I whimpered, afraid he would touch the sore, bleeding mess, but instead, he circled the back of my leg and blew on the cut. The cool sensation of his breath over my wounded skin startled me.
“I think you’re going to be okay,” he said, smiling up at me, and for a moment, I understood what Maddie and Meghan said about boys being cute. I realized suddenly he was still holding my hand as he stood. He was older than me, definitely more Meghan’s age, but my heart skipped a beat while he looked at me.
“Quit flirting with everything,” Kevin Mueller yelled out, but the boy ignored him. “Stop being a hero and come back to the game.”
“I’m Levi, princess.” He smiled slowly exposing dimples on either side of his mouth. I remembered suddenly the fuzzy crown with fake diamonds on my head. He stared at me as if waiting for something.
“Want to tell me your name?” he asked, reassuring me it would be okay to speak to him.
“She doesn’t speak. She’s deaf or dumb or something like that.” Kevin called out again. I tugged my hand from Levi, knowing the words weren’t true, but still they stung. I wasn’t stupid. Levi’s fingers tightened on mine, despite my pulling. He looked over at his friend. “Dude, shut up,” he hissed before turning back to me.
“Don’t listen to him. You don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to.” He released my hand and reached for my bike. Holding the handle bars, he balanced the bike and nodded for me to climb on. “Gotta get back on the horse,” he laughed. I wanted to tell him it was a bike, but all my fairy tale reading and story listening from Emily made me think of my bike as a sturdy stead suddenly. Levi Walker was a prince.
“I’m Katie,” I whispered so softly I wasn’t certain he would hear me. His eyes opened wide and his head lowered.
“Nice to meet you, princess.” I reached for the handle bars and climbed back on my bike, feeling surprised that I spoke to him, or that he heard me, or that he was still smiling at me in a way that made me want to smile back at him. And so I did. His smile grew in return and he shook his head. “Giddy-up,” he said, giving my bike a gentle push to get me going, and I immediately began to peddle, but not without a look back at my hero.
There was no way to contain the tears that fell down my face nor the occasional squeaks as my heart broke. We’d driven Levi’s car to my family’s home, and we returned to his directly. I figured he’d take me back to my apartment the next day. I assumed. I was a fool.
I’d been playing a game. Make believe that Levi Walker was into me and he’d want me to be the one to help him.
I was no princess. I was the jester. The laughing stock. The one who fantasized too much and had no grasp on reality.
Levi Walker wasn’t into me. He hadn’t told me about his job. He hadn’t told me about his plan. He hadn’t told me about Alicia.
Sobs came harder, rattling my body as I slouched down in the seat, pressing my knees to my chest and letting my feet rest on the seat in front of me. I wanted to curl into a ball and dissolve within the plastic blue bench under me. The urge to go silent consumed me.
* * *
“Katie, another letter arrived for you,” Tuck called out as I entered the apartment, but I ignored her and headed straight for my room. I’d left my bag in Levi’s car, but I didn’t care. My focus was my bed where I could disappear inside myself.
“Katie?” Tuck’s voice followed me, but I didn’t respond. My throat was closed, my eyes swollen. I climbed under my comforter, shoes still on, and pulled the blanket up to my chin.
“Katie, honey, what happened?” The mattress behind me sunk as Tuck sat beside me. Her hand came to my shoulder, but I simply shook my head.
“You got another letter,” she said quietly, but I continued to shake my head.
“Not mine,” I whispered. I heard Tuck’s finger slice the envelope, the rip of paper like a knife over my skin. She read the words aloud.
K –
The universe sent you to me. Come back to me.
̴ L
I closed my eyes, wanting to block out words not meant for me. My body trembled like a fever was coming. Tuck’s voice hitched at the end of her reading.
“Not mine,” I whispered again, knowing the universe sent no one to me. Levi Walker had been there at all the right times, but he was wrong for me.
The silence behind me made me turn. Tuck hadn’t left my bed, and I saw her re-reading the words. The note shook and her free hand covered her mouth.
“What?” I twisted farther as her head shook back and forth.
“These aren’t for you, sugar. I’m sorry. I recognize the handwriting, unless there’s something you want to tell me, like how you might know Logan Prescott.” I stared back at her eyes filled with concern.
“I have no idea who that is.”
“He’s my ex-fiancé. I moved out of his place, thinking he’d never find me here. The K is for Kentucky.”
My eyes opened wide and I sat up instantly. I pointed for my desk drawer and watched as she removed the rest of the letters.
“I’m so sorry. I just assumed the K was for Katie, and I never gave it a thought.” Damn my romantic notions and imagination. I should have said something before, when Levi told me they weren’t from him, but the letters had slowed down.
“I totally understand. Don’t worry about it.” She brought the letters to her chest, similar to the way I had, only I had tried to treasure the romantic implication, while Tuck seemed frightened.
“Is there something I should worry about? What don’t I know? I’ve been a terrible roommate.”
“It’s nothing.” She waved the handful of notes at me, her face falsely smiling. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” Her confidence belied the quivering in her tone.
“You’d tell me if you were…if there was something wrong. If you were afraid, right?”
“Oh, Logan. He’s a pussycat.” She smiled wide, but the force of her mouth hinted at a second lie. “See”—her voice shook as she held out the letters to me—“he’s sweet.” I didn’t believe her, and fear rippled through me as I thought of how one can perceive things to satisfy a selfish desire, when sometimes intentions are quite the opposite.
“Want to tell me what happened to you, though?” she questioned. I shook my head, but my lips trembled, and the words spilled out of me despite my desire to keep silent.