A/N: So this has literally taken 7 months to complete. I didn't like it because I felt like Kate was wallowing for like, way too long, and I didn't know how to fix it. This is my attempt. As this goes right along with chapter 43, I strongly suggest re-reading it, because otherwise this makes no sense. Thank you for putting up with my flakiness!
I picked these for you
Life went on in the neighborhood. As Rick moved out, a new family moved in, this one with much younger kids. Kate offered to babysit. She brought over some of the instruments that Martha had given her, but the kids just weren't interested. They'd rather watch tv all day. Without the music and theatrics, it just seemed like the house lost it's life. She stopped babysitting.
When Kate started school, she found herself looking for him in the school newspaper office, even though she knew he wasn't there. Every once in a while, a head would turn a certain way and she swore it was him. Her friends even noticed a difference in her demeanor. They never mentioned him around her, it was like he had died. Which only made her want to talk to him even more.
A week into her sophomore year, while she was in the middle of her history homework, the phone on the table next to her rang. "Beckett residence, Kate speaking."
"I was starting to think you forgot about me." Her friend's voice on the other line had her grinning, and abandoning her homework. "How is life in suburbia?"
"Exactly as you left it. How is the city?"
He rambled on about how loud it was, his new school, and the opportunity he had to intern at the newspaper office at NYU. Kate told him about her first debate club meeting, and how she was thinking of joining field hockey. They talked about their favorite teachers, his new friends, babysitting the kids in his house, and college preparations. When the subject switched to his writing, Kate's eyes fell on the three ring binder that contained his manuscript. "I loved your story. The characterizations were spot on, and your imagery was stunning."
"Thanks! Could you tell who was who?" She could almost see him on the other line, his chest puffed out with bravado at her praise.
"Some of them. Devon was definitely Dylan Cummings." His affirmation had her continuing. "Sarah was Emily Byrne. And Jacob was Joshua Holmes."
"You're good at this game." He laughed, making her smile.
"Or it's just a small town." Things got boring in small towns. She envied him, and the chances he had in a larger city. "We know everyone."
"Yeah. I miss that though. I don't like that I don't know anyone." His voice trailed off, a hint of sadness creeping out, and she longed for him to be closer, just so he could spend some time with a familiar face.
"You're a friendly person. You'll have that whole school loving you in no time."
"Yeah, we'll see." He sighed, and she could hear his bed squeaking as he moved. "I have to do homework, though. Talk later?"
"Is that a question? Of course." She laughed, sitting back in her seat and staring at her ceiling. "I miss you, Rick."
"I miss you more." Her heart clenched at his words, and she choked back the feelings that were threatening to escape. "Make good choices."
She laughed. "Please. From you, that's rich. Bye, Rick." She hung up the phone, her head shaking as she thought back on the conversation. It brought her a sense of comfort only a conversation from a best friend could bring. It also brought her an inkling of longing. She missed him. Sometimes she wondered how their relationship would be different if he hadn't moved, if their ill-fated date hadn't ended like it had. She definitely would be spending more time in that treehouse, working on homework and making plans for their future. At these thoughts, her heart clenched, the loss of her friend becoming more and more real. She pushed the thoughts away and refocused on her history homework, Rick Rogers' blue eyes relegated to the furthest corner of her mind.
They talked once a week all year. He didn't make friends as easily as she had hoped. In fact, he sort of fell in with the wrong crowds. It wasn't long before she heard that he was going somewhere else. "Yeah, the kids and teachers there didn't appreciate me as much as I thought they would." That's what he told her at first. At the second school change in a year, he told her, "I was just trying to be funny." This time, his reputation for mischief followed him. People expected it from him. Kate had stopped asking him about school a long time ago.
It was in their junior year that they started talking about romance. "Kate, I need a woman's opinion."
In a way, his words disappointed her. Some part of her still imagined them getting together, even after two years without seeing him, their one night out together ending a different way than she imagined. But Rick was her friend, and freinds gave advice, so she ignored the clench in her gut and spoke. "Shoot."
"So I'm dating this girl, Lizzie, and we got into a fight about the dumbest thing. But I was wrong, and I want to apologize, and I'm just not sure the best way to go about it."
She paused for a moment, fighting the urge to ask him what they fought about, and instead took the time to formulate her response. "Well, if the fight was really as trivial as you say, is there a reason you need more than just a sincere apology?"
He hesitated on the other line. "Well, no, not really. It's our first fight, and I want her to know I'm not angry or holding a grudge. And that I'm really sorry."
"Well if you go out of your way for some huge, romantic apology now, she's going to expect it every time. You should save the romantic stuff for the bigger fights."
"You're right. I knew there was a reason I missed you." She could almost hear his smile on the other end, and wished more than anything to see it in person. "Unrelated question, if I wanted to get her flowers one day, just because, what should I get her?"
"Lilies. I love Lilies." Kate answered without hesitation, her smile curling into her cheeks. "Of course, I always liked your hand picked bouquets best. No one does that for us anymore."
"Yeah well that's a little bit harder to do in the city. I don't have wildflowers growing in my backyard."
She laughed. "Well, that's a shame."
"Yeah, it's one of those things that I miss about the suburbs." He hesitated, and she took a moment to shift her position on her bed. "So, um, what about you? Seeing anyone?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"" She laughed, picturing his smirk at her answer, how his blue eyes would have studied her face for clues.
"Yeah, kind of. Not for nothing, Kate, but you're pretty extraordinary. Any guy would be lucky to have you."
She felt the heat rising to her cheeks, his words kinder than she expected. "Well, so far you're the only one who thinks that. No boys for me."
"I hope you find someone soon, Kate. You deserve to be happy."
His words warmed her heart and sent a tear down her cheek, as she longed for someone to see her the way he did. She shifted on her bed and her textbook fell on the ground, Making a loud thump and reorienting her to reality. "Sorry, Rick, I might have to cut this call short. I have tons of schoolwork."
"Of course, I understand. Don't be a stranger, Kate."
"I won't. I promise."
At first she kept that promise. They talked at least once a week. She knew when Lizzie broke up with him, and knew that it bothered him more than he let on. He knew about how Dylan Cummings started pursuing her, and teased her when she started to fall for it. She knew when he got kicked out of another school, and tried not to encourage it. She told him when she was kissed for the first time. She didn't tell him that it made her think for the first time in a year, that maybe she could find love with someone other than him.
But gradually the calls started decreasing. Usually just because it was hard to keep up. Sometimes it was because he was in trouble, and on a phone restriction. But really, as time wore on, she didn't feel the loss as as hard as she once did.
The summer between junior and senior year they lost touch entirely. Martha's show was on some world tour, and Rick was in all corners of the world. It made timing difficult, and after he had called them once at three in the morning because of a bad calculation, he never called again. And it never quite picked up the same way once school started again. She knew he was trying to study English at some small private school upstate, and he was the first person she called about her acceptance to Stanford, but their phone calls had reduced to once a month.
"I'm inviting you to my graduation party. The open invitation for you to stay at or loft is still open." He told her one day right before graduation.
"And I'll invite you to mine. We've always had that spare bedroom, you know."
"I know. I miss it there. It's the only place I've ever really considered home." His breath on the other end was steady as he reminisced, and she could see his blue eyes staring off in the distance in her mind's eye. "I wouldn't miss your party for the world."
Of course, they planned their parties on the same day. Even miles away they thought the same, and worked against each other. They laughed about it over the phone and made half-hearted apologies on the phone. But she started wondering if it was all ever meant to be.
Maddie kept telling her to let go. "Friends fade away sometimes. It's not the end of the world." The blonde told her at her party, leaning back in a lawn chair. "You're moving to California. You need people in your life that live in your zip code."
"Maddie. We've known each other since we were in diapers. I don't want to lose him."
"You won't. A bond like that is heard to break off completely. But you need to give others the chance to be in your life like that. If you need him, he'll still be there."
"I know." He would still be there for the good news. He would still invite her to his place in the city with open arms. He would still be a part of her life, even if most of that part was in the past. She would never truly lose him.
She left him a message a few days before she moved, with her new phone number in Stanford and new address. When she was settled across the country she tried again. Martha's number had been disconnected. She had somehow lost track of him. For the first time in her life, she was all alone.
Throwing herself into her studies was the easiest way to get over it. And pre-law was tougher than public school in a small town. They wanted her to read more than what was possible each night. She joined study groups, where she was responsible for two readings and summaries of those readings. It cut the caseload a bit, but she still had to know those summaries like the back of her hand. She got a job at a coffee shop, mostly for the employee discount. There wasn't much time for socializing. Her roommate was pre-med, and loved finding the grossest diseases to research and tell Kate all about, one new one each week. She wouldn't have had time to talk on the phone anyway. She barely called her parents as it was.
That summer she didn't go home. Keeping her job was important, and getting to know the locals was something she thought might help her feel more at home. It didn't have that small town feel like she was used to, but in the end it all worked out. She liked the bustle of a city, the way it breathed, ebbed, and flowed. There was always something to do, no matter where you were in life. She made friends outside of school, friends who still thought she was cool even though they hadn't known her from the time she was born. And while she was homesick, she didn't want to leave.
One day her phone rang as she was on her way out the door. She snatched it from the wall, and pressed it between her ear and her shoulder. "Hello, Kate speaking."
"Katie!" Her mother's voice on the other end was two decibels higher than normal. "He did it, he really did it."
Kate groaned, tugging on her shoes. "Mom, I'm gonna be late for work. Who did what?"
"Ricky. Ricky wrote a book, Katie."
Her mother's words had her stopping in her tracks, her work apron falling to the ground. "He did?" She felt her chest swelling up with a sense of pride, thinking back to the days when he was just getting started. The fact that he had managed to do it after only one year in college was another amazing feat. "What is it called? I'll pick it up on the way to work."
"In a Hail of Bullets. I've just started reading it, it's really good."
"I know, Mom, I used to proofread his stories. He's always had talent." She glanced at the clock and snatched her apron off the floor. "I'm running late though, and now I have another stop to make. I'll call you later."
"Okay. Love you."
"Love you too, Mom." She didn't even check to see if the phone went back on the hook before she was out the door.
The small bookstore on the way to work had the book on it's own little table, six books across and about four or five books high. The sign declared it a new release. The cover didn't leave much to the imagination, just tan block letters on a brown background, a few silver bullets on the bottom right corner. The name at the top was foreign to her, Richard Castle, and for a moment she worried that her mother had been mistaken. That was, until she opened the front cover, and saw her oldest friend smirking on the flap, his blue eyes as mischievous as ever. Richard Castle got his start writing for school newspapers in college and High School. He won the Despoy Literary Award at NYU for his collection of short stories, and was the only first year in two decades to be honored in such a way. He lives in New York City with his girlfriend, Kyra. In his spare time he enjoys watching science fiction shows, spending time with his friends, and exploring the city's landmarks. It was the most she had heard about him in a year.
Turning a few more pages, she came across a few sentences that stopped her heart. To KB, who inspired me to chase my dreams. I hope that life treats you kindly. You deserve it. Clutching the novel to her chest, she carried it to the check-out, no longer worried about being late.
The book sat out on her coffee table like it was her most prized possession. Unfortunately, she never did read much of it past the first three chapters. It was amazing, and when she read it she could hear it in his voice, but she just didn't have time for reading. Especially once school started up again. Between schoolwork, her job, and any sort of appearance of a social life, reading for pleasure was low on her list of priorities.
When she finished the semester with honors, she decided she needed a break from her responsibilities. She booked a trip home for all of winter break. It was surprising to her how little the town had changed in the last year. The old bridge over the water still creaked when they drove over it. The factory was still running, but looked run-down and abandoned. The High School looked the same, except for the new benches out front that must have been donated by the class after her. But they had added a few stop signs at some dangerous intersections, so at least there was progress.
When they pulled into her Dad's cabin, she felt at home for the first time in a year. It had always been one of her favorite places. The cabin was smaller than their house, cozier, with a fireplace, and a wide open area great for exchanging gifts. In her room were two beds that almost touched, one for her and a friend (or her cousin Sofia) with matching purple and green quilts. Her parents slept in the next room over, and the couch in the living room pulled out for family members. It wasn't Christmas without a trip to the lake.
When they arrived, she helped her Dad set up the tree, and helped make a list of the things they needed from the store. While her mother shopped and her father measured the thickness of the ice, Kate curled up on the couch in the living room with Rick's book. It was easy to fall into, the imagery clear, and the situations realistic enough. And she found herself falling a bit for Detective David McAllister, the rugged cop with the piercing blue eyes, who was racing to solve the murder and save his own life.
"Please don't tell me you're just reading that now." Her mother's voice snapped her to reality, and she wondered just how long it had been since she last looked up. "It's been out for months."
"I know, and I have been swamped." Taking a moment to mark her page, Kate rose to help with the groceries. "I work full time and go to school."
"You don't have to work full time." Her mother rebuffed, organizing the canned goods. "Your father and I could help you out, you know. It's too much."
Kate threw the meat and eggs into the refrigerator, leaving out the chicken for dinner that night. "You already help me out. You pay half my rent. You're paying for school. I need money for my half of rent and some way to blow off steam with my friends. I don't want to give up my job."
Johanna stopped what she was doing to face her daughter, cupping Kate's face in her hands. "I just worry. I don't want you to burn out."
Kate leaned into her mother's caress. "That's ridiculous. I'm fine." Johanna's hands fell, and she returned to the bags, searching for things that belonged in the cabinet she had open. "Besides, I'm the product of you and Dad. I'm gonna be a workaholic."
This had her mother laughing. "Oh please, Kate. You'll only get so much enjoyment from that. Don't aspire to be like us."
As Kate left to bring her book to her bedroom, she stopped to kiss her mother's cheek. "Too late." She could hear her mother giggling all the way down to her room.
It was nice after such a long time away to spend time with her family. Sofia told stories about traveling in Paris that had the travel bug inside her yearning for more. Aunt Theresa caught Kate up on what she had missed in the boyfriend-from-hell story. Her Nona cooked pancakes on Christmas Eve morning that were better than anything she could make on her own. Her Cousin Timothy ate her dust on the ice. All in all, it was a great visit.
Her favorite part of the holidays was when her Mother would pull out a guitar, and they would all sing Christmas Carols. The chords were lively, and everyone had fun, regardless of their skill level. Silent Night was always her favorite, and the cue that the party was over. Johanna and Sofia sang the top part, their melody bright. Aunt Theresa had taught Kate the alto part when she was a child, and now it just came natural to her, their voices complementing the melody but never overpowering it. It was the song the boys usually stayed out of, just to listen to the four of them sing. When they hit their final chord, Johanna packed up the guitar, and Kate kissed her family goodbye. She only stayed up a little bit later with her parents before slinking off to bed, her body weary.
Winter break was over quicker than she thought it would be. A month seemed like plenty of time to catch up with old friends, but in practice it was over before she had much of a chance to hang out. Before she knew it, it was time to have that last dinner with her parents before jetting off to California again.
Jim drove her to dinner, dressed in his best suit and tie, and even held the doors open for her. He'd always tried to show her how she should be treated by a man, and she loved that he was still keeping that tradition up. He listened quietly as she told him all about her friends in California, and how her classes were going. He offered advice about how to study cases and keeping their details straight. At one point he looked over at her and grinned, his smile tender as it always is. "You know, when you were little, I never imagined you would be where you are. I mean, you always see your kids graduating, and imagine what they'll be like, but you're going to Stanford. The real Stanford. And you're kicking asses there just like I knew you always could. I just want you to know that I'm proud."
His words had her blushing and sitting up taller. She looked at him as he stared ahead. "Thanks, Dad."
They got to the restaurant before her Mom, who was finishing some work in the city. Jim ordered her some champagne for whenever she would arrive, and they looked over the menu. An hour passed with no word from Johanna, and Kate's stomach began to growl. The waiter brought another basket of bread. Her Father's face twitched in annoyance as he looked over the menu once more. At some point she watched as his annoyance turned to concern. He looked at his watch several times a minute and kept staring at the door. Kate didn't know what to talk about, so they sat in silence. After another half hour, they ordered. "Mom's loss." her Dad joked, but his laugh wasn't joyful, it was nervous.
He drove home going five miles over the speed limit the whole way. Not enough to be panicked, but enough that it worried Kate. Her stomach began to turn and her hair stood up on end as she watched him mutter under his breath. When they saw a police cruiser sitting outside of their house, her stomach dropped out from under her, and her vision tunnelled. Now Jim was muttering obscenities, his hands gripping the steering wheel so his knuckles turned white. The officer standing on their front step began to approach. Kate knew it wasn't good, but had no idea how much her world was about to change.
She had never see her father cry before that day, and she was so far gone she couldn't even console him. Her Mother had been murdered, taken from her by someone else for selfish reasons that they didn't even know yet. And suddenly, she felt all alone in the world.
The next few days were a blur. They had to go into the city to identify her body. They had to arrange to pick up her remains, once the autopsy was complete. They planned a funeral together. Kate watched her father sink deeper into the bottle every day. And none of her friends knew how to react.
Her professors at least were understanding when she withdrew from school, no longer looking forward to being far from her Father. Her landlord wasn't as understanding, as he demanded the rest of the money for her lease. Her roommate figured out a way to sublet, and started slowly shipping Kate's belongings back. On a whim, Kate called the number she had for Rick and Martha, a young child speaking a foreign language answering instead of the man she wanted to talk to. Now that he was somewhat famous, his number wouldn't be listed. The one person she would have found comfort with was nowhere to be found. It broke her even more.
It was almost a month after the funeral that she pulled out his book again. She was only halfway through. Part of her wanted to ignore it, to avoid any mention of the word "murder". But she remembered how familiar it was. How she could hear Rick reading it to her in her head. So she sank down on her bed and opened to the marked page, picking up where she left off, and letting the words of her best friend comfort her.
A year later, when Death of a Prom Queen hit bookstore shelves, she was first in line to buy a copy. Between working two jobs to help pay bills and searching for a rehab center for her Father, she discovered that she still found comfort in the words of her friend. It was like he was still there with her, telling her stories in that old treehouse, helping her forget about whatever was bothering her. It made her feel young again.
He went to the town next door to sign books. When it was announced, she rejoiced. Finally, a chance to reunite with her childhood best friend. She requested the day off in advance. The well worn copies of her books were on her nightstand, a felt tip marker on top, all ready for signatures. She was more than ready to see Rick again.
Her stupid boss didn't give her the day off. Instead, he expected her to work a double. "A lot of the seniors are graduating, and I'm already short staffed. I'm sorry Kate, you can meet him another time." It must have been a sign from the universe.
When Derrick Storm came out, she felt like she had something to look forward to. He was great, refusing to give up when the case got too difficult, and following every lead that was available to him no matter how strange it seemed. He was daring and handsome, and everything she hoped a detective would be. One morning she found herself discussing the book with her father. "Derrick Storm would have found Mom's killer by now." Three years later and they weren't any closer, Kate would guarantee they hadn't opened it in the last year or so.
"Derrick Storm isn't real, Katie." Her Dad grunted, his face falling. "Murder books are great. The evidence always falls in just the right way so it all makes sense. Real life isn't the same."
"Dad. They called it 'gang violence' and never tried to solve it. Don't you think Mom deserves someone who will make her case a priority?"
"Don't you think there are thousands of people with murdered family members thinking exactly like you are? There just isn't enough manpower, Katie." Part of her wished she hadn't brought it up. She saw how it still broke him, how hard it was without the alcohol to soften his fall. "I would love every cop to be more like Derrick Storm. It's just not the reality, honey, and I'm sorry."
Her shoulders slumped as she returned to her meal. But the pancakes didn't taste as sweet with the wheels running in her head. They went over and over the conversation again as they both sat in silence. As her Father got up from the table, she looked up, meeting his eye. "What if I wanted to be a cop?"
This had him sitting again, his face turning white. "What?"
"I could be a cop. I could be one that cares about every case that falls in my lap. I could save lives. I could encourage others to do the same. Maybe it would do some good."
Her dad just sat across from her, his mouth open like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. It took him a while to gather his thoughts, and Kate's heart beat steadily as she waited. "I know if I tell you I don't approve, you'll just do it anyway. But I find myself worrying that you're doing this all for the wrong reasons." He sighed, meeting her eyes, his gaze soft and comforting. "I'll support you Katie, in whatever you choose to do. Just please search your heart and make sure you're doing it for the right reasons."
She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into her chair. "Thank you. I'm doing it for Mom, there couldn't be a better reason."
That night she looked up Criminal Justice programs in New York City. When she visited the campus a week later, she couldn't help but be on the lookout for her favorite author. She did the same when she enrolled for classes and found an apartment. Somehow the newspaper always found him before she did, and he was long gone by the time she showed up. Leave it to them, even in the same place at the same time, they weren't on the same page. After two months in the City, she stopped looking, deciding that it wasn't worth the struggle. It was keeping her from meeting new friends, and living her life.
She found him one day in the most unlikely of places. Sitting on her Father's front steps when she went home for a visit. He looked different, more grown up. His chin sported some scruff that wasn't there yet when they were younger, and he had filled out a lot, his shoulders becoming broader, and arms looking more muscular. But it was still him, with that boyish grin and bright blue eyes. The same blue eyes that lit up when he saw the surprised reaction on her face. He accepted her hug with open arms, squeezing her back with matched fervor. "Ricky Rogers, what in the world are you doing here?" She asked through laughter and tears of joy.
"The High School is trying to claim me as an alumni. Most of the other schools that try I ignore, but this one is the only one I've ever truly belonged at, so I came to listen. I thought I would check up on the old neighborhood on my way out." He pulled away to look at her, his blue eyes taking it all in. "God, Kate, you are just as gorgeous as the day I left."
She blushed, stepping further away from him. "Shut up." Her mind drifted to her unsigned books sitting on her nightstand back in the city. "And look at you, Mr. published author. How does it feel?"
"It's a lot of fun. I'm glad I am one of those people that loves my job, you know? Especially at my age."
"That's great." She pulled him toward the steps so they could sit. "The books are great. I could definitely tell it was you."
His proud grin was hard to suppress, though he tried, and he attempted to come off nonchalantly. "You've read my books?"
"Of course. I was in California when my mother called me, all proud, and told me I had to go out and buy it."
His face fell at her words, his hands reaching for hers. "Your mother. Kate, I just heard, and I'm so sorry. I would have called, or come to the funeral, or helped you in whatever way you needed, you know that, right?" His eyes glistened as he stared at her, his grip tightening around her fingers. "She was like a second Mom to me for a long time."
She squeezed his hand back and offered a reassuring smile. "I know. I would have told you, too. But somewhere along the lines I think we lost each other's contact information, and by that time you were famous and your number wasn't listed."
"Yeah, I learned that lesson the hard way." He laughed, his body relaxing.
"Yes, well it makes it hard to reconnect."
He grinned. "That's why I'm so glad I caught you." He glanced down at his watch. "Listen, I have a meeting with my publisher in about an hour. But let's say we catch up after, maybe go out to dinner? We have years of telephone calls to make up for." The offer made her heart beat faster, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep a straight face.
She didn't try. "I'd love that," she answered, a wide grin creeping across her face.
He hopped up, grabbing her hands and pulling her with him. "Great. It's a date." He reached out to shake her hand awkwardly. "I'll see you here at six."
"I can't wait." She grinned, pulling him in for a hug, before running in her house to update her Father.
Finding the perfect outfit was a challenge. It was one of those times that she could have used her best girl friend, but she was back in New York City studying business. Besides, she rarely made her way back to the suburbs. And considering her Father thought she looked great in everything, Kate had to fend for herself. She settled on a dark blue blouse with white and blue specks on it, and a pair of black slacks. Something casual, but still nicer than the sweatpants she rolled up to her house in. While waiting, she finished her reading for her classes in the kitchen, and began reviewing her group mates' reports.
The knock on her door made her jump up, a flurry of excitement as she ran to greet him at the door. He stood much like he did about seven years earlier, with a bouquet of hand picked wildflowers, his smile wide as she met his eye. "I picked these for you." He told her as he thrust them toward her, his other hand behind his back.
She took them, remembering back to their conversation on the phone, but also remembering him as a child, picking them on the way home from school. "Thank you. They are beautiful." She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, looking for a vase in the kitchen.
Her Dad was waiting for them in there. He watched in amusement as Kate found the old vase, and Rick looked around at everything that hadn't changed. "Well Rick, long time no see. How is New York treating you?"
"Fine, sir. It may have done me well." He looked up above at the knick knacks that lined the tops of the cabinets. "To be honest, I always liked it better here." His eyes drifted over to Kate, who was filling the vase with water. "I left my best friend behind, and I didn't like that."
"Well, she missed you too. Especially after that disaster of a date."
This had Kate whirling around, her face turning red. "DAD!"
He threw his hands up in the air, his head shrinking into his shoulders. "I'm sorry, was I not supposed to say anything?"
She hid her face behind her head as it shook back and forth. "No. Please. I think we're just going to go." She grabbed a hold of Rick's wrists and pulled him toward the door, afraid to look at him to see his reaction. She waved at her Father without looking back. "I'll see you tonight, Dad."
Outside, she let out a nervous laugh as she fell into step beside Rick. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. My Mother has done worse." He offered her a hand as they walked down the street, which she accepted, lacing her fingers in with his like they did as children. "I had a girl over working on a Latin project. Mom loudly told me where the condoms were. I think I turned about four different shades of red."
Kate laughed, suddenly feeling not so bad about her father's antics. "Oh, that's awful. I'm sorry."
"It gets worse." He teased, his free hand running through his hair. "The girl called back, 'I'm not into dudes, so he won't be needing those. But thanks.'"
Kate's head fell back as she laughed, her arm roping around his like it always had. "That's mortifying."
Rick shrugged, a cocky grin on his face. "At least she was comfortable enough with herself to admit that. Not everyone is so open about that stuff."
"True." She tightened her rip around his arm, amazed at how familiar it still seemed. "So what is in the cards for tonight?"
"Well, I think I owe you a re-do of that terrible date."
"We really don't have to relive that. We can do something else." Her grip loosened on his arm as she remembered that night, his uncharacteristic quietness, their almost kiss. "Besides, I don't even know if the treehouse still exists."
"It does. And I already got permission from the new owners to do some reminiscing tonight. Unless, you don't want to?"
She bit the bottom of her lip as she grinned, happy that he wanted to make things right. "I think I might like to see the old place again."
He grinned that boyish grin, his hand clasping around her as he quickened the pace. "Perfect! Off to Anne's we go!"
He remembered her ice cream order, down to her favorite toppings and type of waffle cone. He escorted her to a table in the corner of the field, close to a streetlight that had just turned on. They talked about their favorite places in the city, exchanged addresses and correct phone numbers. She told him all about her classes and her professors, and everything she wanted to do in memory of her mother. His chest puffed out with pride as she told him how Derrick Storm inspired her. He talked about traveling, and his books, about how fame had changed him. When his ice cream was gone, he leaned forward, his voice a whisper. "Did you read the dedication in my first novel?"
Kate's heart flipped as she thought back to that bookstore in Stanford, his words making her feel closer to home. "I did. I loved it. Thank you."
"Funny story. My girlfriend at the time, Kyra, thought it was dedicated to her. Kyra Blaine. I didn't have the heart to tell her it was for my best friend that I hadn't seen in years."
"Girlfriend at the time, huh? She must be kicking herself for giving you up, Mr. New York Times bestseller." She punctuated her statement with a lick of her ice cream cone, the coffee ice cream running down her fingers.
Rick shrugged, handing her a napkin. "I don't know. Her Father never thought I could provide for her. Her mother didn't think I had the right character, money was never the issue. She asked for time to think, got on a train, and never came back."
She reached her clean hand out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. "I'm sorry they couldn't see you."
He squeezed her hand back. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be." He gave her a small smile, with a twinkle in his eye, and although she could still see the hope that had always been there, now she saw wisdom too. He took in a deep breath and gave her hand a soft pat. "Take that to go. I want to see what's changed."
Together, they walked to the common. The band wasn't playing that night, but that didn't prevent them from stopping. Kate shoved the dirty napkin in her pocket and allowed him to sweep her into a dance, him humming a melody she didn't recognize while she laughed as they twirled. The night grew darker but she didn't care. They danced around that gazeebo like the morning wasn't coming, and no one was watching. When they slowed, slow dancing near the sidewalk, she wondered if he could feel her heart beating in her chest. If the pull of her body into his was deliberate. If he'd had any idea that this was how this night would go. She pulled away slightly, leaning up to look at him. The soft smile on his face, the way his eyes locked with hers, how he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. And just as she was gathering up the courage to lean forward and finally meet his lips like she meant to all those years ago, he dropped his arms and moved slightly away. "Not yet. I still have one more spot on my list." At the roll of her eyes, he continued. "If we want to re-do this date, we have to do it right."
"You're impossible." She laughed as she fell in step next to him, walking back toward their street.
"Always. It's part of my charm." He threaded her arm through his as they walked, telling old jokes and new funny stories, each getting more caught up with the other one's life. She didn't even blink when he opened the gate to his old house, and she ran down the once familiar path that was now overgrown. She reached the treehouse before him.
It had been updated a bit. The rope ladder now had red vinyl rope instead of brown, but the structure on top still looked the same. Rick nudged his way in front of her, grabbing onto a rung. "I should go first. Make sure it's safe."
"Forever the brave knight," Kate laughed, letting him go ahead of her.
"Please," he called down as he climbed, "you rescued yourself. Or told me how to rescue you better."
As she followed him up the ladder, she called out, "and now you're a pro at rescuing princesses. It could come in handy someday." Rick didn't answer her. He had stopped in his tracks just beyond the entryway, hunched over so he wouldn't hit his head on the ceiling. It didn't take her long to figure out why.
Most of their artwork was gone. It got scrubbed away by someone who wanted their own kids to make their own memories. Kate could only make out a faint outline of her princess' crown in the moonlight. The bookcases had been moved around, and were empty now. The family that owned the house had grown kids who didn't care for treehouses. Across from the big window, in the same spot Rick had put some almost a decade ago, there were pillows. It seemed like no matter who was up there, they liked watching things from the window. Kate pulled him down with her, and rested against him as she stared out at the sky. "You always knew all the constellations."
"Mythology is cool. I liked knowing the stories that went along with the constellations."
"I always thought it made you look smart."
He laughed. "God, I always wished to hear you say that." He ran his hand up and down her arm. "I'm sorry that things got so out of hand the last time we were here."
"You know, I've thought about it a lot, and I don't know how I would have dropped that bomb either." She moved to look him in the eye. "I don't think I would have invented a date, but I don't know how I would have done it."
He laughed, shaking his head. "You were just so excited, and I didn't want to disappoint you. But then you went in for that kiss, and I couldn't tell you after that, so I panicked and blurted and ruined the whole night." His hand came up to cup her cheek. "I regret that, you know. That I never got to kiss you. I had been dreaming of it for over a year, and I ruined it." He turned to face the wall, in the space right under where her princess would have been, and ran his hands over the wood. In the moonlight she could just make out the words etched into the wood, the only thing that would have stayed no matter how many times the walls were washed. I SHOULD HAVE KISSED YOU HERE. "I'm sorry I played with your emotions that night."
Kate's heart was racing as she reached up to cup his face. "Could you please stop blaming yourself so we can make up for lost time?" His expression changed from somber to puzzled, but she didn't let him speak before pushing forward, latching her lips onto his and melting into the side of him. His hand made it's way into her hair, and she moaned as he closed the distance between them. She grinned into it as she pushed ahead, her hands on his shoulders as she reveled in his noises of appreciation and his hands running over her ribs. She almost didn't stop herself, but she broke their contact, biting her bottom lip and leaning next to his ear. "Not that I don't want to continue this in the very near future, but may I remind you that this treehouse belongs to neither of us, and I don't want to overstay our welcome."
"Right." It came out breathy, which made her chuckle.
"But you have a nice hotel room nearby and we both have apartments in the city."
He nodded. "All good things. But for now, I want to watch the stars. Make up for lost time."
She stole another quick kiss, just short enough to quench her thirst but not make her long for more, and settled back against him. He told her constellation love stories, pointing out the patterns with his finger in the air. She wasn't really watching. She was too busy looking at his face, wondering when their story would merit pictures in the sky.
