Match This! (The UnSocial Dater#1) (7 page)

“I love you,” I told him for the first time. “I love you Owen, and I know you're right, but please don’t ask me to walk out into the light or some crap. This, you and me, this is enough.”

“For how long, Katherine,” he asked edging closer.

“As long as —”

“Say forever and you will make me the happiest man in the world.”

“If that’s how long you can make me feel the way you do, then I guess, forever it is.”

He threw the history textbook off my lap and onto the floor and made love to me, right there on the living room floor.

We were a week from winter break and he gave me an envelope.

"What’s this?”

“A week at White Face Mountain. Tell your parents you are going with friends. It can be me, and you for a whole week.”

“I don’t know what they’ll say,” I whisper honestly.

“Just try for me Katherine. Please.”

I could never tell him no when he said please like that, never. It was a plea, and that plea was for me, his Katherine, his love. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

He hugged me and carried me into the bedroom, where he made slow, sweet love to me.

The last week of class and I get a note in my student e-mail to meet him in his office. He had mentioned a fantasy of his, he wanted me sprawled out on his desk while he sat in his chair eating me.

I wondered if maybe this was what the note was all about.

I walked down the corridor towards his office and notice no one else is there. I wonder if they were doing the little holiday party within the History and Lit departments. He said he was avoiding it.

I knocked lightly on his door and he didn’t answer. It was locked. Weird.

I sent him a text and he didn’t reply. This too was odd.

After about fifteen minutes the door opens and I stand smiling at him. He is turned facing in his office and he is tucking in his shirt.

I hear a female voice, “I’m gonna miss our office fucks, Professor Owen.”

Mortified I turn quickly and hear him say, “There’s always break and next semester. I can’t get enough of you. Never could, you know that.”

I make my way around the corner and slide into the faculty bathroom.

The pressure on my heart pushes out a quiet sob and quickly I cover my mouth.

I walk into one of the stalls to grab toilet paper to wipe the damn tears away, and hear the door open. Quietly I close the door and I hear a woman humming. I immediately wonder if it’s the woman from his office. I crouch on the toilet seat so I am not seen.

I hear heels click on the marbled floor and the door to the stall next to me closes.

I don’t have to wonder long if she’s the one Owen was with, “Men,” she mumbles, “Such stupid creatures.”

I see black heels, about four inches and black stockings with a line up the side.

‘
Women
,’ I think to myself, ‘
Such stupid fucking whores
.’

****

Once inside my dorm I get a text from him, saying he has that poetry slam tonight with the faculty. He asks if I can stop over later, because he is already missing me.

Fuck you,
I type and delete.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!
I try to push send but I can’t.

Why would he ask me to come to his office, then send me this message? What the hell was wrong with him!

I stopped by your office as requested via email.

Send.

He replied.

- I didn’t send you an e-mail Katherine.

Apparently you did

Send.

He replied.

- What time?

Half an hour ago.

Send.

He replied.

- I wasn’t there. Sorry. I have no idea, must have been something I left in my draft messages. I should delete those. Sorry Katherine.

Sorry Katherine? Sorry Katherine!

He sends me another text.

- I love you Katherine. We’ll chat tonight. Phones dying. I’m going to charge it now. See you tonight, my love.

****

“Are you going to behave?” Cecilia laughs.

I cross my fingers and put them behind my back, “Yes.”

“Are you sure you want to go to that place again? I mean what if they recognize you?”

“You think there’s a wanted poster hanging up in the post office, ‘Wanted, the Clapper’?” I smile.

It’s not fake or forced either. I actually love these girls. Like real love, the kind that doesn’t kill you, or make you wish you were dead.

****

When we walk in there is no line, I timed it perfectly, without even trying. Huh, works for me.

We sit near the stage and I focus my attention forward, although I can feel his eyes on me. He doesn’t get a glance. He gets nothing except the closure he so begged for that was wrapped in a pretty little lie of a promise.

They ask if anyone has anything before they give the stage over to tonight’s scheduled poetry slam.

I stand and hear Cecilia gasp in shock and Josie mumble, she’s gonna get us stoned.

I don’t wait for an invitation I simply walk up and stand at the mic. I look at Josie and smile. She seems relieved, maybe she has come to the conclusion there will be no ‘stoning’ since the old Harvard faculty was here.

“I am Kat and this is titled 'Closure'.” I briefly glance to Owen, who is looking at me speculatively. Next to him professor Trammel seems to be standing a little too close to him, it seems to make him uncomfortable. I look down and immediately recognize the shoes, the stockings, the fucking whore.

“Come on Kat!” Cecilia cheers and then whistles.

The only thing stopping me from crying is knowing I am making him uncomfortable. His eyes are doing that pleading thing, but this time, I don’t give a damn.

I start,

Closure

“Do you know who you are? All you people out there.

I assume that’s a no, with your I don’t give a fuck, under your five-day scruff, your messy hair.

Check the mirror, check yourself. Who are you today?

A hippie, a non-conformist, a socialist you say?

You snap your fingers ‘cause you’re cool, too good to clap for me?

Not true motherfuckers, I’m cool girl number three.”

I hold up three fingers and smile at my roommates, then look towards Owen and the whore.

“Look around fucking clowns, with your fakeness and lies.

Expect nothing from me. No words or wasteful goodbyes.

The way I see it you simply suck.

Like your lies on the duck.”

I look at the crowd.

“Truth be told I was naïve, but I’m not anymore.

So all you snappers, you cynics, why not go fuck your whore?”

I look back at them and it hits me, if he didn’t send the e-mail, I bet she did. Fucking snatch!

“Turns out I was right to turn it all off for you.

I fucked him, he fucked you, so I fucked you too.

Katherine you whisper, with a shake of your head.

Trying to figure me out is nonsensical, that part is dead.

I’m not Katherine. I’m not yours, never was, so snap that.

My name isn’t Katherine, motherfucker. I am just Kat.”

I drop the mic, hold up both hands and give them all two fingers before walking off stage, through the silenced crowd, to the hallway and out the door.

I look behind me and Josie, and Cecilia are hot on my tail.

I just want to be alone. “Just leave me alone.”

“Kat,” Josie says when she catches up to me. “What can I do to help you?”

“Get me the fuck out of here.”

Cecilia is on my heels. “Tomorrow Kat. We’ll sleep tonight and tomorrow we all go home.”

“Home,” I laugh emotions building to boiling point.

“Yes, home,” she grabs my hand. “No more snapping.”

“No more snapping.” Josie takes my other hand.

My heart is ready to explode and I feel tears rolling down my face.

“What did he do to you?” Josie whispers.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie crossing my fingers.

“Okay,” she says squeezing my hand.

“This place is absurd,” Cecilia guffaws. “Socks with Sandals? Who does that?”

I laugh, “You probably want to get home more than I do.”

She looks at me and nods. Her finger comes up and swipes across my cheek. “I was foolish to think Harvard was going to be like the Upper East Side.”

“What? Wealth, ambition, and laxity aren’t alive enough here for you?”

“It’ll work for now,” she squeezes my hand as we walk even faster towards the yard.

“She isn’t Darth Vader yet,” I say to Josie loud enough for Cecilia to hear. “If we get her back to Manhattan quick, she could still be Anakin.”

“And she’s making jokes,” Cecilia laughs. “A good sign she’ll live.”

“The cost of the rings alone is sickening to me. Let’s say the happy, yet delusional couple, waits until they finish college. They are more than likely in debt up to their eyeballs with student loans already. Then they go buy a ring that they can’t afford to start their ‘new lives' together, forever.’

“BUT WAIT, that’s not enough. Throw a last hoorah with all of their friends in Vegas with booze and strippers. I mean what says undying, everlasting love and faithfulness like lap dances and used up snatch picking $20 bills off someone’s face?

“Then all of the sudden they wake up the next day and are never going to want it again? Yeah, right. Let me ask you, when is the last time you ate just one double stuff Oreo cookie?

“Don’t kid yourself that eating just the cream inside isn’t cheating, eating is cheating.

“The next time you see a stripper pole, or hell any pole for that matter, tell yourself you aren’t going to remember the single most exciting night of your life.

“The same ‘happy’ couple gets ass raped for hosting an elaborate soiree to celebrate a marriage that will end up failing. Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s fact. You know damn well they’re fighting over the details of the damn wedding too. Can you feel the love? Me either.

“After the ass fucking, without lube, they spend a mint on a honeymoon where they spent ninety-percent of the time shit faced and fucking, seldom leaving their resort suite, yet it cost a grand a night.

“Now they have spent a minimum of ten grand themselves and that’s if they didn’t have to pay for the damn party celebrating their ‘union’. Hell, I can celebrate a union with a fucking Happy Meal and a bottle of Jack. He brings his own condoms, now it’s a fucking party.

“Kat?” Josie sighs.

“You asked how I felt about weddings. You know damn well I’m not going to hold back.”

“What I was trying to ask is how you felt about mine. Blaine asked me to marry him last night. I want you and Cecilia to be in the wedding. I want you to be my maid of honor,” she says as sweet as Josie is.

Fighting the urge to bash my head against the counter until I knock myself completely out, I answer the only way I can, “I would be honored.”

She giggles. “Sure you would.”

I bare my teeth trying my best not to growl. “You and Blaine are different.”

She laughs. “How so?”

“His parents are loaded. I will assume you aren’t paying for the wedding. I’m sure the ring isn’t on plastic, you won’t start out that way,” I pause and try my best to dig myself out of the hole I’ve dug. This isn’t easy for me; I normally don’t give a shit if I offend. “Besides, you’ve been together four years now.”

“Five, we graduated last year,” she says.

“Right, well then, yours will be smooth sailing.”

“We’re moving about an hour from you,” she says with a big smile, I don’t even have to see her, I can hear it.

“That’s so cool. I am off Sundays and Mondays every week. We’ll get together.”

“I’d love to, and maybe meet some of your friends?”

“Josie, I promise, I have real friends.” I laugh knowing she worries about me, even though she knows I can take care of myself.

“No she doesn’t,” Ricco says walking out from the back of the shop.

“Jesus!” I jump covering my heart with my hand.

“Kat, why are you even trying to cover your heart, we all know you don’t have one,” he says and winks.

“Who was that?” Josie gasps.

“Who, Ricco? He’s the jackass I hang out with here at the shop,” I say as I flip him off.

“He has a very, very, nice voice,” she whispers.

“He does not sound like the Taco Bell dog, Josie,” I say to piss him off and embarrass her.

“I didn’t say that,” she gasps.

Ricco laughs and shakes his head. “I’m heading out.”

“Jerry Springer call?”

He turns around. “I hope you get vaginal warts.”

“Well, I hope you get three chicks knocked up and they all come after you at once,” I pause, “Oh wait, you did already.”

“Much love to you too, Kitty Kat.” He flips me off and walks out the door.

I shake my head as I watch him swing his big old leg over
One and Only
, his Harley. Yes, that’s its name.

“Sorry,” I laugh.

“His voice, is…” she pauses and then whispers, “sexy.”

I can’t help but laugh. “There’s a line that goes down the block to get inked by him. I can give you a ‘jump-the-line’ pass if you’re interested in one last hoorah before your nuptials.”

“Is there really?” she whispers.

“Apparently he’s a hot commodity around here. Six-foot-three of inked, pierced, testosterone, who evidently has the stamina of twenty men, or so he says.”

“So you haven’t—”

“Oh hells no! Are you serious, the guy is an STI waiting to happen. He gets paternity suits delivered to him like a funeral home gets flowers.”

She laughs. “How many kids does he have?”

“One for sure, two or three now just waiting to find out.” I laugh. “It’s almost comical. I have no idea what his aversion is to sane women, condoms, or just tossing his own meat. I mean really—”

Her laugh interrupts my rant. “Boy or girl?”