Title: Girl Next Door
Summary: Kane's dreary existence completely changes when a pretty girl named Katie moves in across the street. We all know how the story ends, but this is how it started. Kane/Katie
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Unlike everyone else in the world, though, I was actually pretty amused by the Katie Vick story line. That's probably because I'm a crass and immature.
Chapter 1
Oak Ridge Street was puddled with rain and the bare-limbed trees that lined the curbs shivered in the cool, autumn breeze. It was not completely dark yet, but the sky had been an ominous gray all afternoon, threatening to downpour at the slightest provocation. From a broken down house on the very end of the street, a pretty girl stepped onto her porch and pressed a cigarette against her chapped lips. Her long sleeved white T-shirt was a poor defense against the chill, and she absently rubbed her free hand over her shoulder as she smoked.
Her green eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she gazed across the street. She lived across from what was easily the ugliest, most poorly kept house on the block. The grass had grown to seed, obscuring the rotting baseboards of a dark brown house with green shudders. She pulled the cigarette away from her lips and breathed out the smoke in a lop-sided ring, wondering if he would emerge or not. The stormy sky must have suited his mood, because she hadn't been standing outside long before he lumbered around from the back, looking for all the world like a serial killer coming onto a movie set or something. Her lips quirked into a smile.
He was a tall guy, and it was hard for her to believe he was as young as he claimed to be. Nineteen-year-olds shouldn't be built like tanks. Upon first glance, he was repulsive. His curly, long brown hair was greasy and unevenly cut, hanging about his face awkwardly. He hid behind the dark curtain of hair and very rarely showed her his mismatched eyes. He wore a green military shirt with the sleeves and the name tag ripped off, and she'd never seen him dressed in anything else. The garment smelled horrible, and it was dotted with grease stains and grime. His skin looked strange, as some patches and swathes were especially pale and shiny while the rest of it was a healthy, normal color. She'd learned this was because he'd been burned as a child. Despite her initial fear of him, since moving onto the block with her parents a few months previously, she'd come to enjoy his company.
Not pausing to look both ways before he crossed, he was soon standing on the porch beside her.
"You want a coke or something?" she asked. He shook his head no. She'd never heard him speak without a small device that he pressed against his throat. After she hadn't chased him off with a pitchfork, and they'd gotten to know each other a bit, he'd told her his larynx was damaged in the fire that marred his skin. It was hard for him to speak without aid, though he told her he could do it if he had to. She knew it was a strain on him, though. It was surprising how much he managed to convey without speaking at all.
"Your dad come home yet?" she asked. Kane watched her tuck a wayward strand of her dirty blonde hair behind the delicate curve of her ear before he answered, pulling his speech aid out of his pocket to reply.
"He sent some cash," Kane said. Katie frowned slightly, not even able to imagine how hard Kane's existence was. He'd dropped out of high school and had been in and out of hospitals and institutions all his life. His dad was a huge, creepy guy that left him alone most of the time, only rarely dropping in to give him money to survive. Self-conscious about his burns and his limited speech ability, he never ventured far from his house, buying all his groceries at the gas station near the entrance to the neighborhood. If his father went too long without sending money, he simply went without food and lived without electricity or running water. Kane told her this had only happened twice, but he hadn't forgotten the hunger pains and the fear that he was going to simply rot away and nobody would ever know. He'd been twelve the last time it happened. Overhearing this story, Katie's soft-hearted mother had nearly cried, and made Kane promise he would come over and eat dinner with them, and not to hesitate to ask if he ever needed anything.
"I'm going out tonight, and on my way home I can get you some actual groceries. You eat too much junk food. It's not good for you, ya know?" she said. He grimaced, and his intense gaze flashed to her cigarette from behind his curtain of hair. When he pressed his box against his throat, his voice was especially slow and pointed.
"And you'll end up talking with one of these if you keep smoking," Kane replied. She smirked, and to appease him she snuffed the cigarette out on the porch railing.
"Do you want me to get you some groceries or not?" she repeated. Kane considered the idea and then nodded. The last time she'd shopped for him, he'd eaten like a king for weeks. Pop tarts and greasy gas station food got disgusting pretty quickly. She'd even used some of the groceries to cook meals for him.
"You should come to dinner tonight, too. My mom will be all alone and she hates that." The massive teen nodded. Katie shivered again and wished she'd put on a jacket before she came outside. She'd have to wear sleeves under her cheer uniform at the game later that night.
"I finally made a friend on the squad. She reminds me of a girl I used to know back home," she commented absently. Kane leaned against her house and simply listened. "Community college sucks. I don't know why I thought it would be any different from high school. My dad might get to come see me cheer sometime next week, though." Katie's dad was a truck driver, and he was hardly ever home. He loved football, and he'd come to most of Katie's games throughout high school. He also loved to see his daughter cheer, because she was good at it, and he liked seeing her so happy and full of life. Thinking of her dad made Katie glance up at Kane, wondering if he'd ever been to a football game.
"You wanna see the cheer I've been learning?" she asked. Kane didn't reply, but she caught the small grin on his face. "Okay, but it's not perfect yet so don't be too harsh a critic." Wanting to get warm from the exercise, she jogged out into her front yard and did a few quick stretches. Kane crossed his big forearms over his chest and she knew she had his complete attention. She moved into the routine fluidly, tumbling and cartwheeling with ease despite the slippery grass. When she finished, she wiped her slick hands off on her pants and ducked out of the sprinkling rain that had started. Her chin-length hair was damp, and her cheeks were flushed with color. Kane could see the outline of her bra through the damp, thin material of her shirt, but he was careful not to stare directly. He pressed his box to his throat.
"You're really good," he complimented. She smiled up at him, pleased with the praise.
"My coach says I could probably get hired as a cheerleader for an actual sports team when I finish my associates degree. I mean, it would just be the minor leagues, but it would still be a really fun job." Katie was currently getting her license to be a nurse's assistant, but the idea of cheering for a living seemed so much more appealing.
"You wanna work on the truck?" she asked. Her father had taken a liking to Kane, and he'd given him an old truck he'd been planning on fixing up but had never gotten around to working on. Her dad said Kane was smart—he'd picked up on how to do the repairs like a natural and he'd clearly read the old repair manual that her dad had loaned him from cover to cover. Katie didn't know much about cars, but she liked to sit in the truck and talk while Kane worked on the old piece of junk. She liked it best when her dad was home to help them, but it was fun when it was just her and Kane, too.
Kane obviously had nothing better to do and liked her suggestion.
"Just let me grab a jacket first. It's getting cold out here. I'll meet you out in the garage, okay?" she said. She popped inside long enough to grab a hoodie and then told her mother that she and Kane would be outside.
"Tell him to come to dinner tonight," her mother said from her spot on the couch. She was watching a cooking show.
"I already did," Katie replied, as she headed out the back door. Kane had pushed the garage door open to reveal the rusty blue truck and her father's disorganized collection of tools and other random junk. Kane knew exactly where he'd left off, and after a few seconds of choosing his tools, he was tinkering away under the hood. Katie sat on a barstool nearby, just watching him work.
"You have any plans Kane? Like, for what you want to do with your life?" Katie asked curiously. The fact didn't escape her that lately, she'd been spending more and more of her time hanging out with Kane in her garage, just talking, or doing her homework, or eating dinner with him and her family. She hadn't bothered to make any new friends in college. A few guys had asked her to come to their parties and she'd gone, and she was slowly warming up to another girl on her squad, but she was nothing like the social butterfly she'd been in high school. Since moving to Texas with her parents, she'd turned into a regular homebody.
It was kind of weird how much time she was spending with Kane. It was almost like they were dating. She usually dated guys from the football team, who tended to be attractive and not much else. They never listened to her like Kane did, and they were never satisfied with just spending time together.
Kane stopped what he was doing under the hood to reply to her.
"I'm going to be a wrestler," he said. She arched her eyebrows in surprise.
"Wow. Didn't expect that one. How exactly do you plan on doing that?" she asked, intrigued.
"That's what my dad does. He manages wrestlers. He's going to find me a trainer soon."
Katie was surprised to learn what Kane's father did for a living. He drove a hearse, so she had just assumed he worked for a funeral parlor or something. If he was in the funeral business, though, he probably would have been home more. Now the guy just seemed even freakier for driving a hearse when he didn't actually need it for his job.
"That's really cool, Kane. You'd make a badass wrestler," she said, keeping her thoughts on Kane's father to herself. "How soon is soon, though? You aren't going to bail on me here, are you? I mean, who am I going to spend all my time with if you go off to become a big star?" Kane didn't reply, and Katie wondered if her words had been to flirtatious. She knew he had feelings for her, perhaps very deep feelings. Joking about no longer seeing each other would only upset him. She smiled fondly at his hunched back, guessing at the direction his thoughts were heading. He was the kind of guy that would stick around as long as she asked him to, no matter what it meant he had to give up.
"I guess I'll just have to come and see you wrestle," she laughed, an amusing idea occurring to her, "Once you're making the big bucks, you can hire me to be your cheerleader," she finished, smiling. He turned, staring at her directly for once. He had a small, almost boyish smile on his face. He didn't say anything, he just smiled at her.
She found herself blushing under his stare, and she nervously messed with her hair so that she'd have something to do with her hands. Finally, he turned back to the engine. She changed the subject to her classes, and about how she needed to find a part-time job soon.
After an hour, it was time for her to get ready to go. Kane wiped the grease off his hands with an already dirtied towel and left the garage with her. She said goodbye to him, reminding him to come back over for dinner later, and then went inside to get ready.
A/N: This story is already finished, and I'll post the rest if I get reviews. I'm joking. But seriously, review me, mkay? Reviews make me almost as happy as seeing Kane on television! (Almost) Oh, I should also mention that I was one of the few that didn't think the Katie Vick story line was lame. It was offensive and immature, but funny, so it balanced out. I actually thought it had interesting possibilities, as this existence of this story shows.
