Dear diary,
Why is nothing ever stable? I finally am able to talk with K; I mean really talk with her then Lauren moves out. Lauren hasn't actually moved out as much as returned to the person she was when she first moved in, angry, bitchy and overly suspicious. She glared at K, and mocked her being drunk last night.
K was horrified. Glaring at Lauren didn't help so our last breakfast (so I thought) ended in silence. Mom let me use the car to drive K back, only we got as far as the Shipleys before she stopped and asked the question my guilty face kept saying; what happened? This is why I really hate Lauren sometimes. She has the sensitivity of those racing camels' daddy talked about while in Dubai. Just stomping around oblivious to anything. The moment there is a loud noise off they go, pounding sand to rock.
So I tell K that she woke me up with a kiss. I act like I am ok with it meaning nothing because of what we have just been through. Its tearing me up inside because I KNOW it means something. I KNOW more now than ever that K feels inside the same way I do. That she is lying to herself when she says 'she is straight' to anyone.
What I didn't tell K is what else happened. That when I woke up, she was on top of me, with one hand down 'there' and another on my cheek like Reagan used to do. I let K continue until she fell back to sleep, her warmth saturating me. K's head lying on my chest, I'm inhaling her lilac shampoo feeling totally guilty but so desperate. It is unbearable. I woke up yesterday having forgotten the rest but the kiss until Lauren's comment 'You can tell me when it's over, if the high was worth the pain'.
Telling Shane got nowhere. He was proud of me until he realized what I meant, then he sat, shocked and bemused. He reminded me about the Hester Halloween party and what happens there. Just then Tom walked up to our table at the Brew and Chew. He looked up at him, smiling in his own way. Tom looked back, laughing before pulling up a chair.
Tom drives me crazy. He's just like daddy in that he will just appear when the mood strikes him and vanish just like that. Oh, and Tom, to be clear, diary is Tom Istan, the Olympic gold medal winning swimmer in the 10k in London. He's buff and tall and has piercing black eyes. Totally infuriating because I've known him since I was 6. He appeared at K's one day knowing Lucas. He doesn't talk about the connection either.
Yet every time Tom appears, first time he does is want to see my neck. This time it's 'do you know where 'my favorite fan', his name for K, is?' Apparently, he discovered that she was upset over the summer and he's here now with a package and one of the ocean sticks. Shane looks suddenly surprised, connecting the dots as to who he is. He asks how I know him. I explain. Tom nods and says that he needs to get back to business. He hands a glossy of himself wearing Kobalt sunshades pre autographed to Shane. Getting up, he stares at me, and says 'slow down. She will catch up to you.' As he walks away, he turns back and grins wickedly, 'unless you want to accelerate the process with a swim'.
Shane's befuddled look is precious but I know exactly want Tom meant. Some secret club he wants K and me by extension to join. Something to do with both Lucas and Molly's family. He drives me crazy with it. Still, whenever he shows, problems vanish and I feel good all day.
Looking at the gift box, I open it. It's all the Saw scripts neatly packages in order, with a prop key and wax covered mini-cassette on top. He knows me too well. All this is a beautiful distraction so I don't freak about K and the dream.
We are soul mates, K and I, so I needed to talk to her. Shane takes us there still curious about the Ocean stick. It's a wax sealed blue metal tube filled with ocean water in which wet green paper sits. The paper has gold writing on it usually talking about K's family history. Tom says she's related to the Oannes. That means nothing to me but it always makes her smile.
All this brings me back to today and the talk, I get five words out and K's uncomfortable, changing the subject. So I give her the stick. K lights up. Peels open the seal and pours out the note.
Spreading it out on the kitchen table, I stare at the ornate swirls, slashes and curls of the calligraphy beneath the words. It's basically a permission slip to enter a club in NYC or a house in Lafayette. With a white pearl in amongst it.
That's my life right now. The struggle has never been more real. I must have offended some god because the more I fight it the more my life turns into a romantic movie. I hate them so much. Of course, he/she/it knows and probably will send someone to kiss me and make this even more complicated.