JANUARY 2012 (continued)
It's happened. I know it's happened. I'm sure it's happened. But I feel the need to retrace the sequence.
Something is missing for me to fully comprehend, fully grasp how we got there. How we allowed ourselves to get there. To open the door.
At Henrietta's again, writing, these words with a brand new Lamy fountain pen. I love how it slides on my Moleskine notebook page. Complete with my cappuccino this is utter luxury. Although this has become my late Saturday morning ritual, today is different, it feels like a celebration really, I m just the only guest.
When Sadie brought my cappuccino to the table just now, I realized I had been writing with my index pressed right there where Caroline's lips were yesterday. My lips feel bruised somehow, bitten by the warm want I tasted there. Burnt by the soft caress of her thumb where our lips had joined, and where her eyes rested, right after it ended. Before the school bell rung. Before it brought us both back to the surface. Back from the deep deafening wave we had sunk into. Where I could only hear the noise or my heart pounding, and then the soft brushing of our lips, and then, as our kiss deepened, after the initial shock of the unbearable softness there, then the faint cry of our mingling saliva as our mouths opened and pulsed rhythmically against each other, softly.
How the bell brought all the sounds rushing, back to my ears, the voices of the students and their loud footsteps in the corridors. And how my body fell right back into motion. But how my mind has staid there, since then. How it willingly lingers. Marvels at the dizziness each time it goes, tries to go over it. The fall, the dip my senses take each time.
Reading the entry I wrote before this one again, right after the phone call I'm reminded of how hopelessly tentative the whole process felt before, how painfully clumsy. And now, one kiss later, a mere contraction of compact seconds later, it seems as if everything has lead to this, gently, smoothly.
I did dare. I did. Ironically, her date with Gavin's pal, whatever his name is, ended up pushing it out of me, when the cowardice just had put a nice lid on everything. Helped me put a stop to the farce. Helped me change the record. Accept that the thirst had been there. At least for me, and I am almost sure, for her. Avoiding her every chance I got, her and the heavy longing of our stares, wasn't hiding anymore. It was the pull of the water before the wave comes crashing on freshly soaked sand. The pull before the release, knowing it was coming. It had to come. Knowing that I would make us both look at it no matter how oblivious of it we had both been, and still wanted to be. But knowing I couldn't afford it anymore. Knowing that it was time to acknowledge it, the growing thirst for each other. In between the hesitation, and the hiding, not visible at all times but there nonetheless. Welling up, in the quiet uneasiness of our silences. In the stolen looks on each other's bodies, cleavage, legs, lips, eyes, backs. Above all, paradoxically, in our shared avoidance of each other's touch. The thrilling heaviness of it.
I let all of this wash away, kept myself far from it, suddenly angry at her, and at myself, I let the bitterness simmer.
And sure enough she came to me. Yesterday, right before my last class towards the end of my free period. Ready to pretend. Or rather, ready to pick the song up where we had left it. As we had left it.
She had this questioning look in her eyes I had rarely if ever, seen before.
She was tucked in that black skirt that falls lower under her knee than the other ones, and I remember that she pulled on her belt nervously as she walked in.
And that s when I did, as gently as possible, to my own surprise, change our tune.
When I answered that I was happy her date was horrible, after she told me it was, she laughed right away. She seemed unaware of the change of mode in my voice yet. She laughed her high-pitched almost girly laugh. Seemed relieved then, like she was happy that we could still do that together, go there, that we still had that, that it hadn' t been lost in that gap that had formed between us since the phone call.
When the laughter died out, I felt her try to ignite it again, she said it'll serve her well, that she did dump her only friend for a stupid blind date after all.
I waited. I could taste the bitterness in my mouth. I looked at her, not flinching, not apologizing, not hesitating. I said « Is that what happened? Is that the lesson? » She looked at me, visibly startled. I remember that she said « Yes, well I am sorry about that Kate it was …silly» like only she can say these things, with just as much utter contempt as sincere regret.
I remember my voice, still in this new mode, maybe Dorian if I had to pick, when I added «I don't think so, Caroline, I don't think that's what happened at all ».
She looked at me, now in full Dr. Elliot mode, invisible soldiers inside her mind already leveling the walls of the fortress, I knew that time was of the essence then, that soon enough, all entrance would be shut. That's when I did tell her " I don't think it was silly. I think you were happy to cancel on your "only friend" for a more acceptable date.» The words shot through my mouth, fast, even, measured, the mode, becoming more and more familiar now although still unheard between us before. Her face completely froze, she asked « What do you mean?» I saw fear in her eyes, all of a sudden. I said « Never mind Caroline! » And I just started leaving the room. Turning my back on her. I took a few steps and then realized that I was going to do this. Claim this, for myself, for us. Even if I could still hear all the reasons why I shouldn't, at that moment it was just a distant clamour. Even if it meant risking it all between us, jumping off that cliff.
I turned back.
It felt like I was driven, somehow, by this instinct, rather than in full control. I remember avoiding her questioning stare and just aiming for her lips, but I have no idea how I ended up cupping my hands around her face, when, exactly. But I did. They were still there when the school bell rang although I know I let them go as soon as I felt her kiss me back, respond. As soon as I felt her join me in the wave.
When the bell did ring, and my heart skipped, and she swiftly removed her thumb from my lips; seconds before the first students stormed into the room, I remember that, although I kept trying, I couldn't wipe away the smile from my face. She left; the shock of her heals even harsher on the floor than usual. She had her back to me and I don t know if it was there too. If like me she just couldn't wipe her smile away. But it heard it, flickering in her voice when she called, five minutes after my last class. She asked directly, no hesitation, in this new, now shared, mode of ours. " Kate, are you doing anything tomorrow night? "