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Anyway, this is shit in my head and now on a small page you’ll never see…I think of you way too often for someone who is supposed to be fake. How is it that the rest of my life now feels fake and you’re the only real thing? How the hell did you do that Harpy? Ancient rune spell? Did you slip something into my mushroom tea in Utah?
I stop and sip my pint and tuck away my notes and ramblings for another day. And wonder what she’s doing right now.
Chapter 44
Small Step Towards Bravery
KAT
India
The fight was a little hollow, random pixels on a screen don’t quite cut it this morning. Everything is flat yet even between us. Even the multiverse musings were just that. Musings.
With the exception of our sniping at each other. All posts have been more courtly love than Courtney Love. Nothing particularly erotic, and it’s kind of all we really have. And the sex was really good. I might think about that more than the hike. Nah. I tap the side pocket of my camera bag where I know the dried flowers are.
Joy pours out of all the pinkish spaces. Grabbing joy where I can seems to be my new hobby. I’m scrolling through my photos today while Porter and Courtney are going over tomorrow’s itinerary and can’t stop thinking about sucking Zane’s cock. It’s not all I think about but today I can’t stop. It’s like I’m a walking pervert.
There’s a man at the other end of the lounge car whose cigarette smoke curls up from the ashtray in a spiral towards the gold-leaf ceiling making the rich red curtains look as if they’re straight from a Hollywood set. I put my phone up and snap a picture. I’ve taken a million of this train, and the people are fascinating. I’ve done a few portraits along the way but only if they tell the story of the location.
Courtney smiles at me and gestures for my phone. “Amazing.” She hands it back and it still feels strange to take pictures in front of people as if I’m the expert or that I’m actually a photographer. But neither of them even blink as I do it. She kisses me on the head and lightly slaps the back of Porter’s and his hat falls forward. He’s relaxed but not sloppy drunk. There’s a dopey smile on my brother’s face.
“Night. I have a little work to do. I mean some of us can’t just laze around.” She wiggles her fingers as she goes and every man turns their head to watch her. The epitome of cute. It’s Court’s curse and blessing. She’s so much more significant than cute.
I sip some water, the weight of the day, week and month pushing down on me and alcohol isn’t clearing anything up.
“Hit me with it.” Porter rolls his hands toward himself.
“With what? Oh, shit. Are you about to lawyer me?”
“I prefer cross-examine. Why are you taking pictures? You did as a kid but they weren’t especially good like what you did today. What the hell were you doing at that magazine? Why are we in India, although not complaining because bucket list for me. But why are you pretending that you’re pretending to like your fiancé? I think he’s a good hang but your eyes crinkle at the mention of him. What the hell is that about? Also can I just say for the record you women are exhausting. Fake this, pretend that, accidental this, running amok in an RV. You and your women need to get it together.”
I put my hands up in front of me. “Slow it down, counselor. This is me. That’s the problem. I kept this person tamped down to, I don’t know, to fit in. I mean everyone loves Courtney. You’ve never been out of step with anything in life. Mom and Dad have everything figured out, all the time, I just went with it and found it easier to ride the middle.”
He almost gags on his drink he laughs so hard. “You think you’ve been riding the middle this whole time? Maybe with that insufferable Chad or your mindless job but to me...” He raises his glass to me. “You’re the only one of us who has their shit together. Only one of us completely comfortable in your skinned knees and beverage-stained shirts. The only one who knows exactly who they are.”
And the wind is knocked out of me like when I saw the Temple today. An instant tear trips down my face and I wipe it quickly. If that’s true how did I get so lost? I want to say so many things right now but oddly, I want to say them to Zane. Zane who sees me as murky as I see myself right now.
Porter eases back into his chair and sighs. “Kat, the rest of us are faking it until we make it and except for you defending your relationship with Chad, you’ve never faked a thing in your life. So what is all this about with Zane? Do I need to kick his ass?”
“Stand down there, bro. It’s a game right now.”
But it’s not. It’s pretending for them and not so much for us, and it’s a tricky place my head doesn’t know how to deal with. I tell my brother a version of what’s swirling.
“It’s nice to have someone to-” I put up air quotes, “talk to who, and I’m aware how weird this sounds, doesn’t judge me. It’s easy. No pressure, just this fake ass engagement to buy us both time and sharing our days.” I don’t mention I’m the key to his bank account. Which I still feel guilt about but that’s his family drama to deal with.
“Does he know you’re on this trip?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because for the first time in my life, I need it to be just about me. Even though it’s his path, it’s my trip. My step forward. I don’t know, whatever, it’s stupid.”
“Yes.”
I wad up a cocktail napkin and throw it at him. He dodges it and doesn’t spill a drop of his elaborate drink.
“You know why I love being a dad?”
