Kate Fails Again
by
Jessie M. Adams
SMASHWORDS EDTION
*****
PUBLISHED BY:
Jessie M. Adams on Smashwords
Kate Fails Again
Copyright © 2011 by Jessie Adams
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She probably should have waited just a few more minutes, but patience had never been one of her virtues. So at exactly 4:13 pm, according to her Simpson’s wristwatch, she stood up, grabbed her coat and scarf, stuffed her gloves into her pocket, and left the coffee shop.
She buttoned her pea-coat and ducked her head against the wind as she jogged to her car. Where am I parked? Oh right, in front of that electric blue pick-up truck...how did I forget that? She examined her fingers as she pressed the unlock button, wishing she had gone to get a manicure this morning instead of staying home and reading another book. Her cuticles were overgrown. Her nails were short and ragged – she had never outgrown biting them.
Sliding into the driver's seat, she tried to remember if the book she had been reading was overdue yet. Hopefully it wasn't; she couldn't afford any more late fees, and pretty soon the library would freeze her account unless she paid. She had been inside for only twenty minutes, and yet frost had already begun to accumulate on her windshield. She silently cursed the winter and switched on the ignition, deciding to light a cigarette and wait for the car to heat up rather than climb out into the cold again to scrape the ice. It had snowed off and on all morning, and probably would continue to do so for the next four months or maybe forever. Why had she chosen to go to a New England university? The cold alone was enough to make you sob, and her mother called daily to complain that it wasn't right for a girl not even twenty-one yet to be living halfway across the country.
“Kate, it's ridiculous. I haven't seen you for nearly four months, and now you say you aren't even going to come home for Thanksgiving. What are you doing that's so important that you can't come home to see your family? Your sister misses you. I don't know how I'll even begin to tell...” She had dazed in and out during the rest of the lecture, but she vaguely recalled something about Uncle Steve threatening to visit her in Maine. That part had worried her. The last time she had seen him had been during the prior Christmas. She had brought her boyfriend to meet the family for the first time...Uncle Steve had a problem with musicians. They were “no good, lazy bastards” who “didn't know a thing about real life or financial accountability” or something of that nature. Anyway Rick hadn't lasted long; still, she didn't like the idea of her dear uncle coming and scaring off potential dates.
She started to chew her lip, realized what she was doing, and quit again, taking another a drag on her cigarette instead. She had come here today to meet one of those potentially lucky fellows.
She had met Brian in a music store, which was so stereotypical it almost hurt, but he had been cute and sort of charming – she remembered he had very clean fingernails. It hadn't been difficult finding the coffee house that afternoon; although, as Brian had mentioned, it was sort of easy to overlook. The building slumped between a pizza parlor and a used bookstore. Blue shutters hung jadedly from the windows and the red lettering on the front window was beginning to peel. It sort of looked like it could be a front for a drug cartel. Although, she wouldn’t really know what a front for a drug cartel would actually look like. Inside, it was cozy – the way coffee shops always are. The couches were deep maroon and overstuffed and there was a wood-burning stove in the corner. It looked exactly like a coffee shop should look, right down to the guy in glasses who had probably been working on his thesis. The coffee had been adequate, and cheap enough. She could see herself writing papers there. So at least she had found a place to study, even though he hadn't shown up.
That’s right, she had been stood up. Maybe he had been in a terrible car accident on the way. She pictured him driving to meet her: He pulls out onto the highway to come into town. He doesn’t see the car coming because it doesn’t have its headlights on. If they had been married, she would be waiting now for a phone call. She would rush to the hospital. The doctors would tell her there was nothing they could do. A man in scrubs puts his hand on her shoulders and tells her that they had found a note in Brian’s pocket. He gives it to her, and the note says that he was going to leave her -- that he had met someone else.
She frowned at her steering wheel, flicked the cigarette out the window, and began to search through her purse for extra change. After being stood up, a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream was a necessity along with a spectacularly depressing movie...Fluke or My Girl...something incredibly sappy and miserable. The guy at the movie rental place liked her. Chad...or whatever his name was...would probably give her a discount, and the ice cream would be about four dollars.
She dumped the contents of her purse onto the passenger seat beside her. Some make-up which badly needed replaced, a few gum wrappers, and several scraps of paper with tiny notes scrawled on them settled into a mass. She sifted through everything as though she were searching for gold, thinking about how she should have cleaned out her purse before she came today. Yeah, right after I got that manicure. She laughed out loud and kept looking.
A crumpled five dollar bill and a nickel were all the cash she could find, and the urge to weep threatened to overwhelm her. She chocked back a sob, and made a sort of strangled chortling sound instead. The rent would be due in a few weeks, and her parents hadn't wired money yet. As much as she hated to admit it, they wouldn't be out of her life for about three more years. She still needed their help, or at least enjoyed eating enough that she could still accept it. She was just some broke student pretending to be a musician. What was it her father had said about New England? Probably something about the snow, but she hadn't cared much then.
As always she had been desperate for change. Ohio. Enough said. Her parents wanted her to settle for Ohio. But she couldn’t really blame them. They had settled for things all their lives, and she supposed it came to the point that they no longer even realized they were doing it. The small towns and farmland, although somewhat comforting in their familiarity, in the end, had proven inadequate for their Katie, and one morning they came home to her frantically waving an acceptance letter in their faces.
She rested her head on the steering wheel. The cold felt nice on her forehead. She wondered how much Charlie at the movie store liked her, and whether she should rent the movie first or go buy the ice cream...which did she want more?
A dull thud sounded against her window. She shrieked and bruised her knee on the steering wheel. Peering out into the dusk, she saw Brian, not recognizing him at first and then vaguely wondering why he was there. He hunched over to look at her with a huge crooked smile and bright green eyes. Oh well, it seemed he hadn't stood her up after all. She really should have waited longer.
He stood back so she could open her door and climb out. She did, slowly, cursing the wind and wishing she had worn a hat. She could feel strands of hair flying out of her ponytail holder and tried to brush them back without looking to awkward. She could see he was noticing. What had he been saying? It was something about the weather.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, looking very serious, probably seeing her trying to guess at the best way to respond. She shook her head and tried to give an apologetic smile, which was probably more of a grimace because she couldn't feel her face much now. He grinned again, revealing a slight distance between his two front teeth and a single dimple on his left cheek. They were off-balance, lending a boyish quality to his face. “I said let's get inside. My hands are so numb they might fall off.” He laughed at himself while she nodded and attempted to think of something witty to say, but the moment passed and they headed toward the door. “I'm glad I caught you,” he continued. “I tried to call to tell you I was running late, but you weren't answering your cell phone.
An image of her phone screaming angrily to an empty apartment flashed through her mind, and her face began to flush. That was another bill her parents were paying. Then she realized she hadn't said anything to him yet and tried to think of a response. “Yeah, I must have left it at home.” Yeah, genius he probably figured that one out already. She giggled at herself, but was embarrassed when he didn’t laugh with her. He seemed not to mind though, and continued talking, taking her by the elbow as they walked and steering her toward the entrance.
“The roads were awful today weren't they? I guess I'm just not used to the snow though. I swear God was having a bad day when he invented snow.” He chuckled and prattled on, but that comment had caught her off guard. Hmmm...God references. She wondered how he would react if she told him she was a Wiccan bisexual – not that she actually was, but sometimes she liked to mess with people. He realized she had spaced out again and began to frown. “Tell me about your-self,” he tried. “How long have you been here?” She considered this for a moment.
“A year, I guess. I moved here from Ohio last summer to go to college.” She wondered if she should say anything else, but thought that was probably enough. He nodded and for a second she thought he was reading her mind, but then she realized he was waiting for her to continue. Maybe she should say something about school, or perhaps she should tell him about her music. “I passed that music store on my way into town the first night, and I went to check it out the next day. I go pretty regularly...I'm surprised I haven't seen you there before.” He started to respond, but quit as they reached the counter. A young woman waited impatiently for them to order. She was about their age, and had really big boobs. She wondered if it was weird to notice that. The woman recognized her from before and arched an over-plucked eyebrow, smirking to herself as she rested a pink hand on her hips.
“Hey, back already?” the girl said in an overly friendly tone. Instead, of replying she ordered herself another caramel macchiato and then graciously waited for Brian to pay. He didn't drink coffee himself, he told her, but he loved the chai tea they served here. She nodded and started to ramble about her coffee addiction, but stopped when she saw his eyes start to glaze over. What had he said to her at the music store? He liked some band a lot... probably a better topic than coffee.
He started steering her again, starting towards the couches but luckily they were all full. She hated the awkwardness of sitting next to someone on the first date, wondering if you were too close, hoping he wouldn't put his arm around you or unintentionally knock over your drink. In fact she really hated all first dates, and this one wasn't going so well. Why had she been so stupid? He obviously wasn't her type. She inspected his khaki cargo pants and striped polo shirt suspiciously, but she couldn't exactly pin down what she didn't like about him. He was cute; he seemed like a really genuine guy, and the gap between his two front teeth was slightly adorable. How long will it take to drink my coffee and leave? She should have gotten something smaller, but she really was addicted to coffee. Damn, whoever gave me that first mocha...no, I always do this. She cursed herself and promised herself she would try some more. He probably wasn't so bad, and they hadn't even really begun talking yet. “So who was it you were asking about before? Some local band right?” She tried. At least they were both interested in music she mused, and gallantly attempted to listen to his answer this time.
“Yeah, they're called Emune. The vocalist is a good friend of mine. I was wondering if you had heard them before.”
“Oh right.” She remembered now, not clearly, but still it was a start. He had come up to her while she was debating between Queens of the Stone Age and Cat Power...which had she chosen? Damn, now she couldn't remember which CD she had bought. She tried to picture the album cover. She saw herself unwrapping the plastic but couldn’t get a clear view... Oh, he's talking again isn't he...
“--and I might end up being manager for them.” Ding, ding, ding. He was a manager. He managed things. So that's what was bothering her. He was probably in a fraternity and interned at a radio station somewhere. He'd grow up, get married, have three kids, a dog, a red SUV, and every night he and his wife would fall asleep watching “Everybody Loves Raymond.” She never could find time for someone like that. Her mother called her a free spirit, and her father pretended he was only frowning at his newspaper.
She hoped she wasn't being too obvious about checking out the moody guy in the corner. Is he reading Faulkner? Would coming to this place for a third time just to talk to him be a bad idea? She tried not to be visibly disappointed when she saw him stand up and leave.
“That band...is it any good then?” She focused on his mouth, hoping that would translate into focus on the conversation, but she seemed to be failing miserably. The truth was most local bands around here weren't any good. She wondered if her ex had stumbled into another new band. Emune sounded like something he would come up with. Damn, I'm spacing.
“They still need some work, but I could see them making it.” Of course he could. You can always see the local talent making it. They'd probably all end up middle aged and fat on their misery, drinking themselves into a stupor...“This is to the old days.” Then it would just be some big joke really. Why did I come? Normally she would have turned this kind of guy down in a heartbeat. Maybe she was craving something different, something not quite like getting her heart stomped on and being sung about in some ridiculously corny love song. Well, if she wanted a change, then this was it. He did have beautiful eyes...I guess I could learn to love you. Just don't be boring anymore.
But he was boring. Her coffee kept her occupied for a while, and when it was gone she tried not to squirm in her chair too much. Finally, the conversation lagged, him running out of things to say, and her wanting to be anywhere else. He walked with her to her car, not steering her this time. He gave a quick, “I'll call you,” and headed off. She hoped he didn't.
Sitting in her car, feeling slightly disappointed and extremely hungry, she clutched the crumpled five-dollar bill in her hands. After a bad date, a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a sappy, miserable movie were essential. She wondered how cheap Chase...Chad…Charlie? at the movie store would rent The Horse Whisperer to her. Smiling at this she turned on the car, giving a silent cheer as it sputtered to life, and backed into the electric blue pick-up truck behind her.