To Make Up For Lost Time
Kat's POV
"Where are you taking me?" I asked. I had one hand covering my eyes and the other one grasped tightly onto his right hand. My feet fell steadily on rocky terrain. I tripped forward on the uneven ground, bumping into him on numerous occasions.
"You'll see," Patrick said. His voice had a teasing lilt to it.
I could imagine the daring smirk on his face, the way that the bottoms of his teeth would poke through the slight gap in his lips. How she could visualize the way those very same teeth would be dragging on her skin later. The way that his rough hands, now holding mine, would later be gliding over the same skin, smooth and hungry and waiting for my command.
Patrick was good at that - listening. He could listen and then put it into immediate action. If I told him to the left, he would go left. If I told him up, he'd go up. If I told him to pull my hair a bit, he'd pull my hair. In the same way, it wasn't like he was completely whipped and submissive, but he took what I had to say and put it into action - put it to use in order to turn me on. He did it to satisfy me, which in turn, I believe allowed him to feel satisfied. Not many guys are like that in high school. Not many guys are like that in adult life.
If Patrick would trust me in what I know, then I trusted him dragging me through unfamiliar territory.
"Is it somewhere romantic?" I asked, a certain giddiness taking over the words.
"Hmm... Not really." He gave my hand a squeeze. "But I think you'll still appreciate it."
I mulled over it. He thinks I'll appreciate it? What kind of stuff do I even like? Uh, feminist ideals, female power bands, museums. I also like dancing and competition. Which one of those could he have possibly included to fit into an after-school activity?
"We're almost here." His voice was slightly above a whisper. The way his thumb roamed over the outside of my thumb, I knew it was an act of reassurance. Whether if it was for him or me, I truly didn't know. Either way, I was happy with the contact.
His pace slowed and his grip on my hand remained constant. I was tempted to remove the hand over my eyes and peek at whatever he had in front of me. I could feel the importance of it in the air around us. The way that it fell upon his shoulders, heavy and without much else to bear with it. This was something that clearly meant a lot to him, and he was willing to share that with me. I took a step closer to him.
He let out a breath. "You can open your eyes."
I slowly lowered my hand, taking in the brightness of the afternoon. I cast my eyes down to the ground and noticed the dusty brown of mother earth. There were patches of dried, yellow grass with the occasional clump of lopsided green. Everything else was covered in dust, a thin film coating my canvas shoes as well as his motorcycle boots. The contrast of my white shoes and his black boots was really something to admire.
But Patrick didn't drag me there in order to look at my shoes. So I lifted my head and sucked in a breath. I couldn't quite grasp why Patrick had taken me to this place, but the worn stones that stacked upon each other and the failing wooden roof seemed to give it age. The support beams were still standing, lifting the half-gone sunroof over the porch halfheartedly into the air. The window frames were bleached from the powerful sun and the doors that sat on either side of them were either completely gone or tattered and hanging by its last hinge.
"What is this place?"
I could feel Patrick's gaze on my face. The way he was looking over my expression, taking in my probably too-big eyes and the clear question on my face. His presence made me hyper-aware. I hadn't been like this in years.
"This is the place that I want to share with you some day."
"What?" My voice came out like a gasp.
"I just know that you're the person for me, Kat. I knew from that first time we met and you spit those nasty, complicated words in my face. I just knew that your wit was something that I needed in your life. I knew your accusations and clear thinking would constantly keep me on my toes. I just knew... I just knew it was you. And I've been thinking about it for some time now, and my mom brought up the other day about how our grandparents used to have a cottage just hanging out in the woods. Something that was long forgotten that we still had the deeds to.
"I'm not saying that I'm excellent in construction, but I can learn, and I can damn well try. There's so much that I want to do for you, Katrina. I want to love you in the way that no one ever will. I want to love in a way that you will never forget."
My breath was caught in my throat. Where was this coming from? What was I supposed to say to something like that?
"I know you're freaking out." Patrick turned towards me. His eyebrows drawn together in a way that looked more serious and less constipated. In a way that he wanted to convey exactly what was going on in his head. "But don't necessarily think of this as an extreme commitment. I just want you to know that I'm thinking about us.. I'm thinking about our future."
I let out a couple of deep breaths. It didn't seem like I could get enough of the oxygen around me. Oh God. He was still looking at me with those intense eyes that made it seem like he was reading deeply into my soul. Like he could read every inch of every emotion that I was feeling. Oh God. Were the walls closing in around us? Was the world getting smaller?
"Hey, I'm sorry." His voice was soothing and my shoulders immediately relaxed as soon as his hand rested gently on my shoulder. "This wasn't supposed to be stressful. I wasn't trying to freak you out, babe."
"No, you're okay. I feel the same way, I just..." I gulped down whatever nerves were rising in my throat. "I just wan't expecting it, is all."
"Well, I wanted it to be a surprise," Patrick teased. "But I guess that didn't end up being the case."
"I'm not so good with surprises," I said. My tone was bashful and I couldn't help but feel my face heat up. I didn't want mean to ruin his surprise with my anxiety.
He chuckled. " I noticed. But don't worry so much about it."
"Okay."
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in closer. He placed a kiss on my forehead and I couldn't help but melt into his sides. While the thought of us having a future really freaked me out, I also couldn't help but feel comforted in the fact that it would be the two of us. Together. Forever. In his head.
— x —
Cameron's POV
"You know what is so crazy about what's going on right now? I just can't wrap my head around the thought of global warming. I mean, the world just goes in a circle around the Sun, right? And if we keep going round and round at the same speed, it's not like we're getting any closer to the Sun. So how does it even get hotter?"
I looked up at her. She was sitting comfortably on my living room chair, just ranting away about whatever had caused her head to hurt earlier. It was probably the topic in her science class. Lord knows she never grasps that kind of stuff. To be fair, she can't really grasp English or math or just about anything, really. It seemed like she was always behind or complaining about something.
"And polar bears? They can totally swim. Why are we so worried about them anyway? Honestly, what do they really do for the ecosystem? I just don't understand the combination of the two. How can the water levels and the general temperature and the freaking polar bears all be effected by global warming? I mean, it's freaking cold in the winter. It's not like people don't get snow. How does that even work? If it's getting so freaking hot, then how can we say that we still have winter or snow or anything like that?"
She looked at me, an exasperated expression on her face, as if to say, "Aren't I right, Cameron?"
"Jennifer." It sounded like a sigh. I knew it did. I also knew what I was going to say next wasn't going to get pretty results. "I think you should get out."
"What?" she asked.
"I think you should get out. I think we ought to break up."
"What?" her voice gained an octave.
"Yeah, no, we should definitely break up."
"What the fuck, Cameron?"
"Trust me on this one. We're both better off without each other."
She got up in a huff. She had this look in her eyes like she wanted to say something, like the wanted to slap me or something. Instead, she grabbed her book pack and threw it over her shoulder.
"Fine. If that's the way you want it, fine. But don't come freakin' crawling back to me when Bianca doesn't want you."
I stared after her as she stormed out. How could I argue with that?
I heard the door slam behind her. I let the silence settle for a moment, and of course, though of my reply too quick.
"I wouldn't want you back anyway, bitch."
