Page 36 of The History in Us

Katie

I didn’t understand what we were doing. We weren’t dating. We were kissing. His apartment, the library, the museum. It all made no sense to me. He didn’t even want to be friends with me. Again, I was reminded of a dance, the push and pull of partners drawn together and then stepping apart. I didn’t want to dance, though. The struggle for his attention and the unknown of his intentions confused me. My skin yearned for his touch as his hands and mouth took my breasts, but my heart ached at the mixed signals. Then to learn details of his son, and have Levi blatantly shun my help, left me reeling in self-doubt. Leaving his apartment after his drunken breakdown, I had nothing but puzzle pieces that didn’t match.

“We’re less than friends.” Sidonia had asked me about Levi as I stood by the register, straightening and re-straightening notepads made of recycled paper that weren’t crooked. The irony struck me, that recycled paper had history, and my emotions felt as flimsy as the thin sheets.

“Did he say that?” Her green eyes narrowed on me, the weight heavy on me without having to look up to meet them.

“Practically, plus I felt…dismissed…when I left his apartment.”

“You were at his apartment?” Sidonia asked, her tone incredulous. My eyes drifted sheepishly up to hers to find double raised eyebrows and wrinkled skin on an otherwise smooth forehead.

“He called me, and I went to his place. He seemed…out of sorts.” How could I explain what I’d seen? A drunken father, drowning in more than screams of his child. A man defeated by the sound of a baby. What was wrong with him, I cursed, and then remembered his leg and the diagnosis of AJ.

“Did he kick you out?”

I shook my head. “I had to work, plus I sensed it was time for me to leave.”

Sidonia put down a stack of clothes she’d been sorting. “Katie Kat, you can’t make assumptions. If he didn’t say go, you stay.”

“But I couldn’t assume he wanted me to stay when he didn’t say go.” My eyes narrowed at her. “Besides, why does staying make me feel like some kind of love-sick puppy? Stay. Sit. Heel. I might have a serious crush on him, and my body wants all the feels, but I’m not rolling over to play dog for him.” My voice rose as I lifted a notepad and slapped it on top of the neatly stacked pile. The feel of his hands surrounding my breasts returned and my skin tingled. Internally, I cursed myself, knowing I would have willingly allowed Levi to take me, if that was what he needed earlier. His pain was palpable, and I would have given him everything to take it away from him.

“Your body wants all the feels? Do tell?” Sidonia shimmied toward me, holding out a vintage lingerie dress, silky and satiny, and shimmering in her hands as she walked with it pressed against her body. I laughed.

“We’ve…kissed. And maybe, a few other things…” My voice dropped thinking of his fingers pinching my nipples. “But I can’t be a friend-with-benefits. It’s just not me.” And apparently, Levi already had that type of fling, probably many times over, only the most recent one settled him a bit.

“He has a child with the last woman who played that role for him, and that won’t be me.” My head lifted defiantly. No, I would not be playing sex-girl to a sexy man, risking my heart and my body, for some hero worship I’d designed of Levi Walker. Not to mention, I understood his predicament. Levi felt trapped, and I imagine that’s how my mother felt. Stuck with a child she didn’t want, in a small town where she wanted to be set free. It was one of the reasons I came to Chicago. I didn’t want to be cemented to Elk Rapids, and I hoped I’d find my mother. It was a silly thought nagging at the back of my brain. In a city of three million people, finding one person was like searching for a needle in a haystack, hidden but ready at the wait to prick when found.

“Katie, have you ever considered he might like you, for you, but he doesn’t know how to show it?”

I laughed outright, without humor. Levi Walker like me? Doubtful. He had too much baggage to include me among the cases, and I didn’t want to be another bag filled with hopeless possibility. A hope-chest full of future things awaited me, and I sighed with my dreams. I was too idealistic, too naïve, and the saddest part, I knew it. I wanted to believe in happily-ever-after, and dreams-come-true, and figured why not me. My fingers combed through my loose hair and I shook my head.

“I just don’t see that as a possibility. He’s older, wiser, complicated, and I’m me.” I waved a hand down the front of me, dressed in jeans and Converse gym shoes.

“What I see is a beautiful girl discrediting herself.” Sidonia rose an eyebrow so high it wrinkled her otherwise smooth forehead. “And if he doesn’t like what he sees, he isn’t worthy of looking. Now, here. I want you to try this on.” Holding out the pale material, she dangled the dress side to side before me.

“When would I ever need to wear that?” I laughed.

“The scholarship ball.”

Another hefty sigh left me. I’d forgotten about the fall fundraiser, mandatory for scholarship recipients, as a way to mingle amongst donors and show our appreciation for their support of higher education. I internally cursed Sidonia for reminding me. Briskly swiping the soft material from her slender fingers, I stalked to the fitting room. It was more like a closet with a heavy curtain before the opening. Slipping out of my clothes with haste, and falling against the wall with a clatter, I eventually shimmied the dress over my skin, relishing the silky sensation slipping down my hips and abdomen.

“You can see all my lines through this thing,” I yelled as I observed myself in the mirror. The dress was a pale blue, almost white, and the color shifted with the movement of my body under the dim light. It highlighted the color of my eyes with correlating shade of blue.

“Take off your underwear and bra.” Sidonia’s voice carried, and I hoped we didn’t have any customers. I briefly shook my head. There was no way I could do such a thing, I thought admonishingly, but in my defiant mood, I slipped up the dress and pulled down my underwear. The material fell seductively down my naked hips, sinfully caressing my thighs. My legs pressed together as my core leapt with the sensual kiss on my skin. The spaghetti straps were delicate, and I was afraid of breaking them to remove my bra with the old-slip-in-and-tug-out trick. However, the move worked, and suddenly my breasts were free to play and peak against the fabulous fabric. My skin felt alive, prickling and tingling, hyperaware of each fine hair kissed by the material cascading over me. My hands smoothed down my narrow hips before slipping upward under the weight of achy breasts. I wasn’t too large to go without a bra, but some support might be better underneath the barely-there fabric. The material felt decadent and rich, and I felt otherworldly standing in it. I didn’t recognize myself. My hair wild from hastily tugging off my sweater. My eyes alight from the sexual hyperactivity between my thighs. My chest rose with ragged breaths from the soft tickle of the dress against the sensitive skin of my breasts.

“How’s it feel?” Sidonia’s voice startled me, its nearness proving she stood on the other side of the curtain. “Let me see.”

Without waiting for a response, she drew back the drapery. Her eyes met mine in the mirror and her breath caught.

“You look beautiful. A natural princess.” Her voice was low, her eyes appraising. The dress really wasn’t fluffy and regal, but sedate and seductive. Modern and sleek with its simple lines, it fit my subtle curves like it was made for me. “What do you think?” The smile in her voice grew as her eyes met mine in the reflective glass.

“I’d never be able to afford it.” My voice was small. Sidonia knew I was a struggling grad student, after all, that was the point of attending the scholarship dinner. The dress I wore might have been second-hand, but was most likely only worn once and by someone who could afford such lush material.

“It’s on me.” The pleasure in her tone warmed me and I blushed.

“I couldn’t possibly take this. You could easily get four hundred for it.”