Never Been Kissed(5)

By: C.M Kars



“Hell yeah, I have a bottle opener. I’ve been waiting for this night all week.” Turning from her, I move to the drawer that holds my target. Coming back to the counter, I find Katie standing on my side, and not the side of the living room’s. Her right ear gets closer to her shoulder, as she tilts her head at me. Her eyes are warm and just as bright as mine were a second ago.

Katie moves in and hugs me. Katie gives the best hugs. I think it’s ‘cause she’s not really a touchy-feely kinda person. You have to earn one of her hugs by being important to her. She’s just...good. It’s all I can say about her, but it’s the only word that fits. She brightens up a room by laughing at even the corniest of jokes, and never lets anything really bother her. I wish I was more like her. Enjoying reality instead of escaping to the make-believe that fictional characters provide me. I’m weaker than Katie is, but even if she knows it, she’ll never disrespect me by saying it to my face.

So I lose it.

I sob into her shoulder, dropping the bottle-opener, clawing my hands into her shirt and squeezing so hard around her ribcage, I might cause damage to her lungs. I give her the kind of hug a dying person gives a living one, hoping to absorb some life into their decaying body. I’m trying to absorb some of her happiness into myself, her bravery, her strength.

What’s even better? Katie squeezes her arms around me just as hard. And I sob harder, breaking in front of her and trusting her to help me pick up the pieces later.



***



“How do you do this? It’s like magic.” I’m eating chicken marsala. I don’t know what marsala is, but this brown sauce on my chicken is the shit. Katie even made a potato salad using fingerling potatoes. They’re like really small, and there’s even a purple one! Say what? The dressing is oil, vinegar and green onions. All the flavours cause an orgasm in my mouth.

“Buddy, you saw everything I did. It’s not hard. You just have to be calm about it is all,” Katie says, taking a delicate sip from her wine glass.

“I’m Dirty Harry calm, and I know I can’t make a fine meal like this.” I shove potatoes in my mouth and take a slurp of some wine. The fifty-eighth food-induced mouth orgasm of the night. Bloody hell, this is awesome.

“Are we gonna talk about before?” she asks.

I swallow the wine-soaked potatoes and cut up some more chicken, drenching the meat in the brown sauce of amazingness. “If you mean to imply that we should talk about my little show of hysteria, then we are most definitely not. I’ve got all the Rookie Blue and Flashpoint episodes of the week PVR’d for you, and Jeopardy is going to be on in fifteen minutes.Hysteria takes a backseat to TV. You know this.”

“Please tell me. How can I help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?” I stare through the glass of my living room table, checking out my Green Lantern socks.

“There’s nothing really to talk about. It’s been a hard couple of weeks. Hey, I got a promotion! Take a swig of wine to that!” I toss back the last bit in my glass, and bang it on the table, so a glass-on-glass chime fills the room. We both stare at each other and shriek “ANOTHER!” and snort-chuckle-laugh while I try not to choke around the piece of chicken I’m still chewing.

“Oh, yeah? What’s your position now?”

I grimace. “I’m the supervisor’s assistant. Paygrade goes up ten percent and the benefits are outstanding. Pretty pleased.” Not really.

Katie taps her lips with her glass. “So, the tears before were tears of joy?”

“Exactly! See? Nothing to talk about. I was overwhelmed by my pride and it just so happened it brimmed over into tears.”

She gives me a glare with the intensity of a laser beam.“It’ll help if you talk it out, I swear.”

I smirk. “All it does is make me sound like I’m complaining all the time. I hate that. Being whiny. What am I? A snotty rich kid that hasn’t got the latest designer jeans? Bloody hell.”

“I really wish you’d stop speaking British. And you do it to annoy your parents. You’re Greek.” she says, gathering up her fork, knife and plate. I follow with my own.

“I only do it so I don’t swear as much. There’s just something about cussing that soothes me. Also, it makes me feel closer to Tom Hiddleston.”

Katie snorts. “Riiiiiiiiiiight.” She opens my dishwasher and starts putting her plate into it. My dishwasher is so awesome, I don’t have to rinse squat. “Speaking of the demons, what happened now?”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it. Not tonight. Tonight is me and my best bud doing our own thing. I got last night’s fight taped, too, if you wanna watch that first.”

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