Where We Begin

Chapter 37 - It's Past Tense

Nov 16th, 2002 - Busta

The following weekend I was back to work. My mom stuck to her punishment and I only saw Taylor at school all week. Hopefully in a couple days I would be in the clear. I got my phone back, so that was a good sign.

We were working at the Mt Blue Country Club today. It's our biggest job, the only non-residential account. I was laying mulch in the flower beds lining the paths around the pro-shop and clubhouse all morning. Even though the weather was still fair, the golf course wasn't nearly as busy in mid-November as it was over the summer. I had my headphones on, just jamming out all morning, enjoying the peace.

I couldn't hear anything, but at one point I got the feeling like someone was watching me. I looked back over my shoulder to see Kit sitting in a golf cart on the closest path. He was wearing these ridiculous plaid pants and a pastel yellow polo shirt, an outfit that I didn't think any dude would ever willingly want to wear in public. He was also looking at me with disdain. I suppose Kit couldn't fathom wearing what I was either, which was currently about half dirt and sweat.

I pulled my headphones down around my neck. "I know I'm still fairly new here, but this town is pretty big right? Big enough that I shouldn't have to see you every time I turn around?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just interested in seeing what it is you spend your free time doing." He reached into a cooler on the back of the cart and pulled out a can of Budweiser. "Keep going, like I'm not even here." 

I stood there and stared.

"What?" Kit asked. "Did you want a beer? I don't think that would fly. My family have pumped a lot money into this place, so I tend to get some perks, you know?"

"I don't want a beer, I want you to leave."

This time he was the one to stare. I flipped him off.

"So what's Taylor up to today? Does she get lonely on weekends?" Kit said with a smug look on his face.

"Didn't we talk about this already, that I don't care that you are still obsessed with us? You're only making yourself look more pathetic," I warned.

"Yeah, you look like you don't care," Kit chuckled. "Hey, question for you. Last time Taylor and I, you know, hung out, she was wearing this really killer red bra... at least for a little while. I'm sure you'd know what I'm talking about if you've seen it. You unhook in it the front instead the back, you know? Does she still wear that one?"

I was right next to that golf cart in an instant. "What the fuck are you trying to do?"

He shrugged. "We aren't at school, maybe it's time to finish what you started at Murphy's last summer."

I wasn't that smart, but I also wasn't that dumb. "No, but we are at a country club that you are a member of and I am a hired landscaper for. I'm sure if I took one swing at you, I'd not only be out of a job but probably in court."

Kit's eyes narrowed to slits.

"I'll say" I continued. "I didn't realize you hated me enough to take a hit, just to fuck me over. That's commitment, man."

"Remember, before you showed up here..."

"Yeah, you were with Taylor. It doesn't matter how many times you say it, it's past tense!" I exclaimed. 

He shook his head. "Wow, I can hear the frustration in your voice. Is it all because of me, or your frigid girlfriend? I can relate, you know."

I opened my mouth to respond and stopped. Be careful, I thought. Don't say anything stupid. It didn't matter though. I could see Kit studying me. I attempted to walk away, another bad call.

"Hang on, Peterson," he called. "What's with the silent treatment?"

I hoisted up my wheelbarrow, prepared to keep ignoring him, but suddenly I was shoved from behind. The mulch left in the wheelbarrow spilled out, mostly onto grass.

"Son of a bitch!" I screamed at Kit. "What is your issue?" 

He didn't flinch. "Are you and Taylor sleeping together?" 

I hesitated a second time. "That's none of your business."

Kit's nostrils flared and I could see his fists clench at his sides. I looked around, wishing for witnesses if he decided to deck me right now. He didn't, though. Instead he muttered to himself that he was "sick of this shit" and left.

A word of advice: riding off on a sputtering golf cart doesn't really help anyone take you seriously after a fight.

Thoroughly pissed off, I directed my attention to the mess Kit made. As I was struggling to clean it up, I kept replaying the exchange in my head. I didn't say anything wrong but he assumed, and it happened to be a very accurate assumption. One that didn't seem to make him very happy.

I thought about calling Taylor, but what would be the point? We already got past all this stuff as a couple. I didn't want to stir it up again, especially not by telling her how her ex still had feelings for her and may have figured out that we had sex. 

Maybe Kit would finally realize it's over and leave me alone this time. If not, I just had to keep playing it cool. It wouldn't be that hard, as long as he kept away from Taylor.