Page 27 of The History in Us

“You always say that. You work too hard. Study too much. Where is my carefree Katie Kat?” I stared at my friend. Carefree did not describe me. Hard worker, dedicated to my studies, loyal to my family—but never carefree. I feared consequences. In many ways, I feared a relapse. If I was punished, I’d fall back into a silent me.

I laughed loudly to break the growing tension. Penelope knew me better than most people, and she’d be the first to agree I was not the spontaneous type. Only once. No, twice, had I acted without thought, and both times the after-effects knocked the breath out of me. The risk wasn’t worth the torture, but then I thought of Levi’s mouth on mine. I’d been reckless three times, actually, and each of them had included him. Each kiss worth taking. Each second after heartbreaking.

“Do you have a date?” Penelope squealed like a cheerleader, bouncing up on her toes. Her hands clapped rapidly.

“No,” I snorted as my face heated.

“You were going all pink, but now you’re bright red. You do have a date,” she pressed.

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

“What, are you both five?” Tuck giggled. “Penelope, leave her be. Can’t you see she doesn’t want to share?” She winked at me.

“I wouldn’t share either if Sexy Walker was interested in me.” After disappearing for a full day on Saturday, I had to tell my roommates where I’d been. Penelope stared at me open-mouthed the entire time, but Tuck gave me a knowing smile.

“He is not,” I choked.

“Heis,” Penelope replied dragging out the active verb.

“Okay children, let’s be nice. Katie can’t date Sexy…I mean, Levi.” Tuck leveled me with a stare, knowing that I’d already kissed him, but not sharing those details with Penelope. On the other hand, Penelope knew I’d kissed him long ago, a fact Levi Walker hadn’t mentioned remembering.

“All right, but next time, there will be no next time,” Penelope said lavishly, swirling her hand in the air to accentuate her meaning. “Oh, by the way, there’s a letter on your bed for you. I didn’t mean to open it but the envelope was blank.”

I stared at my roommate, my heart rate accelerating. My feet wished to race, but I took slow measured steps to my room before closing my door and lunging for my bed.

K –

The zoo reminds me of you–wild and reckless and caged when all you want to be is set free.

̴ L

I stared at the words: caged. Did he understand I wanted to be set free? That a gnawing, clawing emotion existed inside me, remaining quiet yet hopeful. These emotions included my mother. The one person who should have loved me unconditionally and left me behind. There were times I’d fantasize she’d return for me, or at least find me, give me an explanation for abandoning me. Lost was the feeling to describe me. The unending, drowning sense of being a small fish in a pond too large to swim overwhelmed me. The city was the perfect simile to the glistening lake, filled with hundreds of lost fish. A pond of numerous souls all swimming upstream, waiting to be rescued from the self-torture. I felt like a farce as well as a failure, open to self-doubt at all that I didn’t have at twenty-three.

Levi exposed the same void in me. I never understood why he didn’t search for me, write to me, come find me. But his life proved he had other things on his mind than a silly girl standing in an alley taking a chance and kissing a man. I sighed as I added the letter to the first one, remembering I’d forgotten to ask Levi about the original invitation. If only I could believe such romantic letters were really intended for me, hinting at his true feelings, but I strangely sensed the notes were a case of mistaken identity. No secret admirer pined for me. It was I who secretly pined for someone who didn’t remember me.

* * *

“Is this the writing workshop?”

Startled, I looked up to see Levi peeking into the small study room. My traitorous heart leapt at the sight of him, but my thoughts tampered the excitement. His ignoring me most of the week proved his feelings. The kiss had been a mistake. Our day together had been…I didn’t even know what. He hadn’t mentioned either and a war battled inside me.

“This is a private session,” Nate barked, overly aggressive for a tutoring session. It wasn’t a date. What he said wasn’t exactly true, either, as Emma Christie, a girl from our class, was also present, thankfully making this time less private. Levi invited himself into the closed space and set his bag on the ground. He helped himself to a seat at my right and bent to retrieve his laptop.

“Dude,” Nate snapped, eying Levi and drifting his eyes in my direction. I lowered my head, biting my lip, my cheeks pinking, thinking this couldn’t be a pissing contest. This was a writing session.