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Luckily, I have an egg to beat, so I start whisking it extra, extra hard.
I can sense her awaiting some sort of response from me, so after I pour in a little vanilla extract I begin. “I like Mitch and I like his stupid house, and being here makes me even like his stupid son. I’m so mad at myself because I’m a strong feminist, and yet whenever I see him my body is likeno you’re not. This is why it’s so bad that I’m here – it’s likeLost. You put a bunchof people on an island together and in two days they’re falling in love. Only here, I already had feelings in the past so now they’re rekindling with a vengeance, and he… he’s acting…” I search for the most appropriate word, and the best that I come up with is, “Perfect. He’s acting perfect. He’s sixteen again and he’s trying to give me the princess treatment, but I know that it must be an act, because how can someone perfect also be capable of doing something so terrible?”
In the time it has taken for me to finish my rant Kit has managed to eat seven pieces of chocolate from one of the bars that I left on the table, although she still manages to look attentive and thoughtful.
“Hmm,” she says finally.
Okay, I take back the “attentive and thoughtful”.
“That’s a lot to take in,” she continues. She sets the bar down and folds the re-sealable tab, running her finger across it until it looks like it was never opened in the first place. “I think we’re very hard on ourselves, as girls,” she says slowly, as if she’s choosing every word very carefully. I slow my mixing until I fully stop. “I think maybe you should allow yourself the right to be selfish, and maybe you should make some decisions that serve your needs right now, based on the circumstance that you’ve been forced into. Like I said,” she reiterates, “you’ll be at college soon, and the life your mom is making here doesn’t have to be yours. But if you experiment as you please right now… I think it will be good to give yourself some options. You’ll be able to literally run away from everything if you want to next Fall. Maybe you just need to-” And then she leans across the table, scooping sugar cookie mix onto her pinkie, and sticks it in her mouth. She swallows it down and gives me a small smile. “Indulge,” she finishes.
I blink at her like I’ve just had a lesson in the ways of the Jedi. Kit Kenobi. Who would have thought.
And then we’re both snapped out of our trance by the sound of a motorcycle revving up the driveway.
She gives me a look and I know exactly what it says.
It saystime to indulge.
*
Tate remained in the garage until Kit went home. I set the tray in the oven, we watched a holiday movie, and then, under the glow of a couple black pillar candles, we “decorated” the cookies. For some reason all of Kit’s cookies have smiley faces with little vampire fangs. Even the Christmas trees.
Once Kit is gone I put on a little music like I used to at my mom’s house and start washing the bowls and utensils I’d been soaking. I’m not going to lie, it is not pretty music. It’s an aggressive cover song by Three Days Grace, but I’ve got it on so quietly that you can’t tell at first.
I hear him enter the room but I don’t turn around. I’m very focused on scrubbing every millimetre of sugar cookie batter off the mixing spoon, even when I feel him settle against the counter behind me, eyes burning into the back of my head. My stupid, traitorous head.
“Do you want some help with that?” he asks quietly.
Darn it. We haven’t been completely mute these past two weeks but I have been mainly keeping up the pretence of silent-treatmenting him. It’s times like now where that comes to bite me in the butt.
He breathes a laugh and comes to stand right behind my back. I swear he secretes heat like an animal. He rests his left hand next to my torso beside the sink, so I deliberately get extra splashy with my rinsing.
“I wanted to tell you,” he says, and my veins instantly tighten with nerves.What the hell do you want to tell me, Tate?“Your mom is going away this next week, but she doesn’t know about itbecause it’s a Christmas gift from my dad. They’re going to stay at a cabin at Pine Hills. I didn’t know if he would have told you yet but I wanted to let you know because…”
He trails off and I feel the shift as he rubs at his neck or his shoulders with his right hand. It drops back so that it’s next to my waist again and my stomach flutters at the proximity.
“It means that you’ll have the house to yourself,” he finishes.
This time when I slosh the water out of the sink it’s not deliberate. It makes a huge wet patch on the front of my school trousers, causing me to jump backwards because the water is burning hot, and I smack right into the planes of Tate’s chest. He steadies me, and then I reposition myself so that I’m facing him.
He’s giving me a wary smile, like he’s nervous about how I’m going to respond. He should be.
“And?” I practically shout the word. I really need to calm to fuck down. Regardless of what happened between us I need to start being more level-headed about everything. I can’t change the past but I can change how I respond to it. “What are you implying?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow. “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
He drops his eyes to the floor between us and he shakes his head, his breathing unsteady. He mutters something that sounds a lot like “not presumptuous, I’ve been praying” but I don’t think he was saying it for my ears. He keeps his head tilted down but he lifts his eyes to mine, and they’re burning with the unspoken things that he’s obviously dying to say. “My dad told me not to come over whilst they’re gone,” he explains, his voice deep and controlled. “And I won’t.” He pauses momentarily as his eyes search mine. Then he finishes, “Unless you want me to.”
I’m angry with him for suggesting it, but I’m angrier with myself for wanting it. Hell,Iwas the one who suggested it in the first place. Even though part of me wants to kick him out of the door and tell him to stay away from me until I leave for college,another side of me wants to get him tolockthat door and forbid him from leaving until our parents return from their vacation.
Tate’s behaviour right now doesn’t align with the person I grew to hate – instead, it’s completely in sync with the boy I was falling in love with. Can people change? Can they have moments that are so perverse and bad, but it’s just a moment of insanity that they never slip back into? I have never believed that people change. Their behaviours only alter if there’s something in it for them, which takes me back to the original thought that triggered my sadistic sex agenda: Tate wants my body, and my ability to provide or deprive it will be the screw in his neck.
But is that the case? Maybe I completely misunderstoodeverything. I hate second-guessing myself because it feels like I’m betraying my intuition, but not every thought that passes my mind is going to be right or true. Maybe Tate’s motives weren’t what they seemed at the time – and maybe, like Kit suggested, I can allow myself to indulge in his goodness whilst it’s being offered up to me.
I scroll my eyes down the tan skin of his neck, over his tensed pectorals and stomach, and all the way down his denim-clad thighs until I’m looking at his huge black biker boots.If this was three years ago…
Just as I’m about to open my mouth Tate shifts slightly and lifts me out of my appraisal.
“Are those candles bleeding?” he asks, his eyebrows pinched together in… I’m going to say concern.
