Where We Begin

Chapter 38 - Can I Help You?

Nov 16, 2002 - Taylor

It was a good Saturday. I had spent the morning in the chem lab at school finishing my midterm project a week early. Afterwards, I decided to treat myself to trip to the mall, where I found the cutest black ankle boots and a Coach clutch for half off. Best of all, Barnes & Noble finally got in copies of Freud's "The Ego and The Id" and "Beyond The Pleasure Principle". I had been asking about them for a few weeks, but I think the employees didn't take me seriously the first couple times. 

I drove home, my backseat crowded with bags full of new accessories and hardcore psychological analysis, feeling very accomplished. 

As I pulled into my driveway, I was shocked to see a black Audi. Leaning against it was it's owner, the last person I expected to see waiting for me. I parked in my spot, next to my unwanted guest and took a moment. My hands were shaking. I didn't like surprises like this.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I got out.

Kit glared at me from across the top of my car. "That's a stupid question."

I cocked my head. "It's really not. We aren't dating. We aren't friends. If it were up to me, we wouldn't speak anymore, but here you are. What do you want?" Kit walked around my car to me. "Hey, whoa, stay there!"

Kit stopped where he was and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to attack you or anything." 

"Yeah, because that's never happened before..."

"That was Susie, not me," Kit snapped. "This is fucking dumb, I don't know why I came here." 

"Bullshit." I scoffed. I knew I should have let him leave. Part of me felt guilty for kind of caring, but I couldn't help my morbid curiosity. It's not like anything about this was romantic. It was nostalgic in the worst way possible. "We've been broken up for months, we are both with new people, and you show up in my driveway out of the blue? Don't try and tell me you were just in the neighborhood." 

He took a step toward me and I felt my pulse quicken. "How long are you going to keep this up? This whole act with the boyfriend from the wrong side of the tracks? It's such a cliche, Taylor. You are a cliche."

I was trembling all over. "You are an asshole."

"Why, because I'm the only person who ever tells you the truth about yourself?" Kit replied. "That kid is a joke and he's really bringing down your real estate value. Your dad should understand that. Tell me, how exactly does Peterson fit into Princess Taylor's world?"

"Perfectly, not that it's any of your business. My family loves him." I was so angry, my vision was going fuzzy. "I love him."

His icy eyes somehow looked colder than I'd ever seen them. "No. You like him because he depends on you. He doesn't challenge you. He is beneath you, just like half your friends, I might add."

I stood my ground as he closed the gap between us. "Why do you care so much, Kit?"

"Don't you miss what we had? You and me, we're equals." His expression softened as he raised a hand to my cheek. "I'd still give you a second chance."

I recoiled, jumping back out of his reach. "What the hell!?" I yelled. "Are you insane!?"

Kit looked furious again.  "It's a generous offer, when you consider I'm willing to overlook that you spent months giving me blue balls. Peterson doesn't get that treatment though, huh? How could a moron like that possibly know what do with a girl like you?"

My head was spinning. Did he know? I didn't really have time to care, since he was currently losing his mind in my driveway. I spoke quickly and sternly. "So, what? You heard something, and thought you'd come over here and see if you could get in on the action? Perhaps you think I retroactively owe you something and it wouldn't hurt to try?" 

"Fuck off," Kit practically whined. 

"Don't tell me to fuck off! You know what you were trying to do. Did you think I would really cheat on Busta?"

"No, I'd rather you leave him." He clenched his jaw, eyes dropping to ground.

I felt nothing but embarrassment for him. "You should go."

"You should think about the fact that it actually did hurt for me to try." In that moment, I felt a flicker of honesty. "Because now you have plenty of ammo, huh? Are you going to wait until Monday to try to destroy my life or start making calls now?"

"Why would I try to destroy your life?"

"I did it to you." Kit shrugged. That was the closest thing to an apology I ever got from him. 

A smile crept across my face. "You didn't destroy my life. I used to think that, and if this were a few months ago, yes, I would've single-handedly dismantled your social life and danced on the ashes. Now? I should thank you, because now I really have a loving, equal relationship and I am happier than I have ever been. Ever. All because of you, Kit, and your inability to keep it in your pants." 

Without any hesitation, he marched back to his car. Ignition, reverse, turn, gone. I had just done all the damage I ever needed to do. No need to bring anyone else into it. 

I went inside, finally. It didn't seem like anyone was home. It's hard to tell sometimes with 4 people sharing close to 5,000 square feet, but there were definitely no witnesses to the bizarre disagreement out front. Unless some lucky neighbor overheard any juicy bits.

As I sorted through my new items in my room, I began to think about how Kit even knew to bring up those juicy bits. One of my friends must have told someone, but none of them would be talking to Kit, so the news must be spreading around. 

I reached for my phone, ready to call all three girls. It was just a matter of order. Should I go alphabetically and start with Amber? Youngest, with Kiki? Or shortest, with Brandy? 

I put down my phone. Was I was being dramatic? I looked down at my new Freud texts and thought about his letters to Wilhelm Fliess on psychological projection. Kit never actually said anything about sex, so maybe this was just my insecurities coming back up. At this point, if the whole school knows, I'll certainly hear about it Monday. Maybe I should wait before interrogating all my best friends. 

I reached for my phone again, this time to call Busta. I should tell him about what happened. He was probably done with work by now. But... if I tell him, we will both be worried about it. Busta could be angry about it too. Actually, he'd probably want to kill Kit if he knew what he did today.

I put down my phone again, one more deciding not to fan this flame. At least for the time being.