Chapter Five
1513 Words
“I swear he was there,” Kat says as I hand her a cup of coffee. Decaf is all I have in the apartment, but she claims to not care. “You saw him, right? I’m not dreaming it?”
I sit down next to her on my ragged couch, the whole time wishing I had better furniture for us to enjoy. “You’re not dreaming it. We both saw him.”
“Then why aren’t you freaked the f**k out right now?” she asks louder than my ears can handle. “It’s like he just f*****g disappeared right the f**k in front of our f*****g faces.”
A laugh escapes me before I have a chance to reign it in.
“It’s not funny, Tesla,” she scolds. “That s**t is freaky!”
Another chuckle fills the air around me, and I try to muffle it with my coffee cup, the edges chipped and worn with age and use. I made sure to give Kat the good mug.
She backhands me lightly on my forearm, and I have to steady myself so I don’t spill the hot liquid all over my jeans.
“Sorry,” I say apologetically. “I’ve just never heard someone curse so much in one sentence. It’s funny.”
“Well, I’m glad you find this f*****g comical, Tessy,” she sasses back.
I glare at her use of the horrible nickname.
“Okay, okay…” Kat trails off, her one mug-free hand up in defense. “No Tessy. Got it.”
“No Tess either,” I mutter over the rim of my chipped mug. A lengthy silence spreads between us like tendrils of smoke, and I wonder if I should expand on why I have conditions with my name. Most probably wouldn’t understand but maybe Kat would. “Too many fosters tried to come up with loving nicknames. Their betrayal kind of soured me on the whole idea of them.”
“Ahh…” She breathes and then points at me. “That, I get.”
I allow a bit of hope to fill my soul for a moment, my outlook on life brightening at the mere possibility that someone understands me. “You were in the system too?”
She looks down at her lap, her legs curled up beneath her as she holds her mug. “Well, no. But my parents were never around.”
She stops there, her explanation falling on deaf ears. She has parents—or had—and that’s all I need to know. She doesn’t truly understand what it’s like to grow up without someone to love you unconditionally. To share your day with. Hell, to share a meal with.
“You got anything to eat?” she asks, and I feel my face heat as I shake my head no.
Meanwhile, my growling stomach fills the silence.
“Well, how about some Chinese?” she asks, her voice back to the peppy tone it was before we left the club. Still, even though we made a lot of money tonight, I don’t really want to let go of any of it just for food.
She must see my turmoil, because she pipes up and says, “My treat.”
Without another word or acknowledgment from me, she pulls out her cell phone and scurries her fingers across the screen. Just the fact that someone has a phone makes me jealous, and I try to tamp it down.
She orders with ease, asking me what I want and ordering for me when I can’t give her a solid answer. I will be getting General Tso’s Chicken—whatever that is—and I am suddenly feeling grateful for this new friendship. Even though Kat managed to barrel her way into my life, I am beyond fascinated with her every move, and I’m loving her free spirit.
“So,” she begins while plopping back down onto my weathered couch. The cushions make a creaking noise that fills me with embarrassment, no matter how hard I try to push it down. “I can tell what I said earlier has hurt you, and that was never my intention. I just want you to know that.”
I look at her with confusion. “Hurt me?”
“That I had parents once,” she explains.
Still, I stare at her, unsure of just where she’s going with this whole thing.
Finally, she puts her hand up as if I need to wait a moment… wait for her to gather her thoughts.
“Can I tell you something without you judging me too harshly?” she asks.
I honestly have to think about it. My entire childhood was filled with judgment—filled with people judging me and turning me away when I didn’t fit their perfect molds. Am I capable of foregoing everything I have been taught just to have a friend for once in my life?
My internal answer… yes.
I have to in order to be somewhat normal—and sane.
I nod and swallow hard. I want so badly for her to be my friend.
“My parents were rich… well… they are rich,” she states. “They’re wealthy beyond anything you and I can possibly imagine.”
I just look at her, wondering why she ever left a life of money, of privilege, all just to show her t**s to some random men drooling over her. I don’t have to ask the questions rattling through my brain though. They must be written all over my face.
“Money isn’t everything, you know,” she mutters, her eyes in her lap as she fingers the rim of her almost empty coffee cup.
I couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “It sure as hell puts food on the table though.”
“That it does,” she admits. “Food prepared by maids and cooks, the parents never to be seen or heard from.”
Of course, I stare at her awkwardly, hoping my eyes will ask the questions my mouth can’t. So her parents didn’t show up for dinner? Was that her issue?
She takes a deep breath, inhaling in quick bursts before exhaling slowly, as if to gather herself. “My father wasn’t a nice man. I’m not sure if I can explain it any more than that, but let’s just say, he didn’t look at me as a daughter to nurture. He looked at me as more of a plaything to f**k with in the head.”
A nod works through my neck automatically. I am well aware of just what she means.
“I don’t need an explanation. Trust me,” I say, my hand finally reaching out to grab hers, instinct taking over my normally aloof actions. “I understand.”
A knock at the door causes me to retreat, my body thrumming with a hunger I’ve never experienced before.
I’ve been going through life hungry… always hungry… but now my mouth is watering so much I wonder if there’s something wrong with me other than the need for food.
Kat walks to my apartment door, peering through the peephole before opening it and paying the delivery guy for our food.
“Chinese is here!” she cheers. “Let’s just table our feelings for now and eat, huh?”
Her smile is more than convincing and has me gravitating toward the counter where the wonky and rather unstable stools sit patiently waiting for our asses.
“God, I just love Crab Rangoon. You gotta try some!” she squeals while shoving a fried wanton-ish looking thing in my face.
“What is it?” I can’t help but make a face at the smell.
She pushes it farther in my direction while she shoves a piece into her mouth. Mumbling through the food, she explains, “It’s crab meat smothered in cream cheese and fried. It’s so good and creamy.”
Just the smile on her face has me reaching for the weird, star-shaped piece of food. I haven’t had a friend since I was a small child, but suddenly, I feel my heart opening up to her and wishing she would never leave. If I have to do what she says in order to make her happy, I’m willing. After all, what do I have to lose?
Just as I am sinking my teeth into the strange piece of food, Kat exclaims, “Do you have anything to play music on in here?”
I catch the pieces that fall from my mouth with my hand and look at her, wondering if she has some form of attention deficit disorder. She seems to change subjects faster than I can blink.
Regardless of the Chinese food, I can’t seem to satiate my hunger.
I need sustenance, and the thoughts going through my mind on how to get it could be considered disturbing by even the disturbed people on this earth.
- Writer
