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Friday, February 14, 2014

Kit stared at her phone, hoping for an indication that she’d received a new text message. Nothing. She tapped through the messages, ensuring once again that the message to Kevin had gone through. Of course it had. She sighed; rereading her request that he come over for dinner and wondering if she sounded like the overbearing girlfriend he so insistently demanded she not be. She thought it sounded okay, but Kevin’s idea of acceptable behaviour and Kit’s differed greatly.

She crossed her arms across her chest and let out a long sigh. Truthfully, spending Valentine’s Day with Kevin wasn’t what she wanted to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but her circumstances, thoughts of unworthiness and painful insecurities made it her only option. The only thing worse than not spending the day with the person she wanted to spend it with was spending it alone, so Kit had planned a traditional Sunday roast dinner for Kevin. She’d bustled around the kitchen, guiltily pretending she was cooking for Harry as she prepared dinner. Her Yorkshire puddings had risen beautifully, and she wished someone was around to appreciate them. Shed texted a picture to her mother, who replied with a nauseating picture of fuzzy red handcuffs – thankfully still in the box but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what antics Jim and Penny Carrington would be getting up to to celebrate the holiday.

With another sigh, Kit hesitated for a split second before hitting the call button, pressing the phone to her ear as she waited for Kevin to answer. The phone rang several times before he finally picked up, but it still took him a moment before he greeted her.

“… hey…” came Kevin’s voice, sounding distracted.

“Hey!” Kit greeted back, hoping she sounded nonchalant. “Uhm… did you see my text?” she asked, mentally kicking herself. Of course he had. Kevin was never one to be away from his phone for long. He was intentionally ignoring her.

“What?” he asked, sounding annoyed. The television noise in the background hindered his hearing, but Kit noticed the volume level didn’t fade.

“I said, did you get my text?” Kit tried again, talking louder this time. She withheld her sigh as she walked out of the kitchen, not wanting to look at the wasteful dinner any longer.

“What text?” Kevin asked. “Oh,” he continued before Kit could answer. “Yeah, no. I’m gonna pass.”

The fact that he didn’t even try to fake an excuse to her hurt Kit more than she thought it would. If he said his car wouldn’t start, or he wasn’t feeling well, she wouldn’t have believed him, but at least it would have shown that he was trying to appease her feelings. But he didn’t care about Kit’s feelings, not a bit.

But did she care about his?

“Oh… well… okay?” Kit answered, unable to keep the questioning tone from her voice. Didn’t he realise what day it was? “I mean… are you sure? I made a roast…” she added, realising she would have to throw the entire slab of meat into the garbage.

“Yeah, Kit! I said I’ll pass,” Kevin reiterated to her, his tone sounding annoyed. “Save me some, I’ll have it tomorrow.”

“I’m not… I have plans tomorrow night, remember?” Kit asked him. “With Hannah, from school?” she added, sheepish at how easy it was getting to lie about Harry.

“Sunday, then… whatever,” Kevin said exasperatedly. “I gotta go. Davey’s showing me this YouTube video of this guy lifting this fucking car. It’s sick.”

“I’ll bet,” answered Kit, though it sounded unimaginably boring. For a brief moment, she wondered if there was a reason Kevin would rather spend Valentine’s Day with Davey and not her. But, no. Kevin was straight as an arrow. He was just inconsiderate. “I, uh… guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow…” Kit added slowly, waiting for him to clue in as to why she was so eager to have dinner with him.

“Yeah, yeah… tomorrow…” Kevin agreed, still sounding distracted, and Kit wondered if he would even remember he talked to her. “Talk then. Bye.”

“Bye,” Kit echoed, though unnecessarily, as Kevin had ended the call before Kit said goodbye. She let the phone drop from her hands onto the counter, not caring if the screen cracked on her cheap Samsung. She knew Kevin wasn’t the romantic type, and that was okay, sometimes – at least that’s what she told herself. But it was Valentine’s Day – their first Valentine’s Day – and Kit wondered what she had done in order to make her boyfriend watch YouTube videos with his friend than spend the romantic holiday with his girlfriend.

It was an easy question to answer. Though Kevin was still in the dark as to how blurry the friendship line was with Harry and Kit, she knew her mind hadn’t been as focused on her relationship since that December night in Holmes Chapel as it should be. Had Kevin picked up on her unintentionally distracted mind? With her pile of secrets growing, maybe Kit didn’t deserve the romantic Valentine’s Day date she so hoped for.

With another dismal sigh, Kit blew her hair out of her face and surveyed her dinner attempts strewn about the tiny kitchen. She knew she couldn’t throw the meal in the garbage, but she didn’t want to face the task of organizing leftovers. She wanted to curl up on the couch and pity herself for being alone on Valentine’s Day.

She’d just changed into a ratty pair of sweatpants and an old Manchester United t-shirt when she heard the intercom buzzing. For a fleeting moment, she thought it would be Kevin coming to surprise her. But when the buzzing stopped at just one polite ring, rather than the impatient multiple rings Kevin was known for, she knew it wasn’t him.

Huffing out another self-deprecating sigh, Kit pressed the talk button, wondering who in the world had nothing better to do on Valentine’s Day than to pay a visit to her. “Hello?” she questioned into the intercom.

“I’ve got a delivery for someone called Kit?” came the voice. Kit was fairly certain the voice belonged to a boy, but as the person sounded as though they hadn’t hit puberty yet, she couldn’t be sure.

“A delivery?” Kit repeated, her brow furrowing with confusion. She knew she hadn’t made any late night Amazon orders recently, and as her favourite Chinese restaurant was just a block away, she tended to pick it up herself. There had to be a mistake. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, lady,” the boy answered, sounding impatient. “It’s bloody heavy, too. Can you open the door?”

Heavy? Kit thought to herself, her curiosity incredibly piqued. “The door’s broken, just give me a minute,” Kit told the boy, releasing the talk button before stepping out of her flat and bolting down the stairs. As the main door came into her view, Kit’s pace slowed. She couldn’t see the person she’d just been talking to behind the massive vase of flowers he was holding. Her eyes widened at the sight – surely the gorgeous bouquet couldn’t be for her.

“Sign here,” the boy greeted Kit as she opened the door, awkwardly managing to hand her a clipboard without dropping the delivery. It took Kit a moment to peel her eyes away from the beautiful arrangement to sign her name. As she handed the clipboard back, the boy shoved the vase into Kit’s hands. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was heavy.

“Oomph… who’s this from, anyway?” Kit asked, not immediately seeing a card stuck among the petals. The boy shrugged in response.

“They said they didn’t want a card,” he told her. “See ya,” he added, tucking the clipboard under his arm before sauntering back down the street, leaving Kit to deal with the oversized bouquet on her own.

As quickly as the heavy parcel would allow her, Kit bolted back into her flat, locking the door behind her and placing the vase on the table. She rested her elbows on the table, chin in her hands as she stared at the flowers. No card meant Kit couldn’t be certain the flowers were from Harry, but there was no way they could be from Kevin. Could they? But if they were from Harry, what was she to do? Didn’t he know by now that he could do far, far better than her? And if they were from Kevin, what was she doing continuing to harbour feelings for Harry?

Kit didn’t know how long she’d sat motionless at the table, staring at the flowers as she tried to figure out what boy sent them to her. She didn’t think she would ever be the girl who didn’t know who sent her flowers, but here she was. As she ran through the scenarios in her mind, she was surprised to realise that while she was almost convinced the flowers were from Harry, she wanted them to be from Kevin. How easy would it be, to have a beautiful gift from her boyfriend, rather than from the boy who deserved so much more than she could offer to him.

Hearing the jingle of keys at the front door, Kit looked up, meeting Charlotte’s eyes as she entered the apartment. Charlotte’s eyes quickly darted to the bouquet on the table, widening as she took in the massive arrangement taking up most of the small table.

“Holy shit,” she commented, dropping her purse on the bench beside the door. “Guess there’s no flowers left in the whole city now…” She reached out, carefully touching one of the petals and whistling quietly under her breath. “Good job, Kevin…” she commented, an incredulous snicker following.

“I know, right?” Kit replied, hoping her voice sounded like that of an excited girlfriend and not a confused two-timer. Charlotte didn’t need to know about Kit’s internal battle, though Kit was desperate to talk her emotions through with someone, anyone. But she wasn’t sure if she could trust Charlotte to keep Kit’s secret close to her chest like she needed her to do.

“Where’s the card?” Charlotte questioned, poking around the bouquet.

Kit shrugged. “The delivery guy said he didn’t want to leave one,” Kit told Charlotte, her hands wringing together. She stood up, not wanting to look at or answer questions about the bouquet anymore. It was too confusing. She walked into the kitchen, facing the task of cleaning up the would-be dinner.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “I mean… Kevin wants recognition when puts his plate in the sink,” Charlotte told Kit. “He doesn’t want recognition over this? I’d have thought he’d be wanting it for years,” she said, gesturing to the flowers incredulously.

Kit shrugged, her back to Charlotte. She agreed wholeheartedly – Kevin lived for praise and accolades. Not only were the flowers out of character for him, but leaving no indication that the beautiful gesture was from him was completely non-canonical. Because of this, there was no question in Kit’s mind that the flowers were from Harry – or, at the very least, not from Kevin – but she kept mum.

“And you made supper for him?” Charlotte continued, peering over Kit’s shoulder at the Yorkies. “And he’s not here to see you get the flowers? Where is he, anyway?”

“With Davey,” Kit answered simply, as though it was completely normal for her boyfriend to be with his best friend and not her on Valentine’s Day.

Charlotte’s eyes squinted with confusion, nearly closing as she tried to make sense out of Kit’s comments. “That makes no sense whatsoever,” she told Kit, shaking her head. “Are you sure they’re from Kevin?”

Kit exhaled loudly. “No,” she admitted, keeping her head down. “I mean… I really want them to be from him!” she told Charlotte. “But… I don’t think they are,” she whispered, immediately regretting confessing her thoughts to Charlotte.

Charlotte sat back down at the table, examining the bouquet. “Who else would spend this kind of coin on someone who isn’t their girlfriend?” she asked, looking back at Kit. “Harry,” she added after a moment, answering her own question. “They’re from Harry, aren’t they?”

Kit braced her hands on the counter, dropping her head guiltily. “I… think they are…” she admitted, her voice quiet. She wished she hadn’t begun telling her thoughts to Charlotte. Now she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop, and she didn’t trust Charlotte to not tell Kevin.

Charlotte crossed her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow at Kit. “What kind of ideas are you giving to him that he would think some monstrosity like this is okay to send to a friend… a taken friend, mind you… on Valentine’s Day?” she asked her, huffing the words out angrily at her roommate.

“Nothing!” Kit quickly assured Charlotte, her angry tone keeping Kit from divulging anything about their embraces, near kisses, hand-holding and confessions. “I mean… he’s a nice guy, and he’s rich. I’m sure he’s done this for all of his friends,” she added, though realising she hoped he didn’t. Internally, she shook her head at herself. How selfish she could be.

Charlotte scoffed at Kit with disbelief. “You need to get this kid back into the friendzone he’s trying to crawl out of,” she told her, standing up. “And get rid of these. Imagine how Kevin would feel if he saw this. If Harry’s not going to respect your relationship, the least you could do is respect it yourself,” she added, her voice tight.

Kit nodded, keeping her head down as she methodically wrapped the Yorkshire puddings in cellophane. “I do… I do respect it,” she told Charlotte, taking one more shot at convincing her roommate the flowers meant nothing, that Harry meant nothing… even though it was all a lie.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

“It just seems weird that they wouldn’t try to find the right house before leaving that gross, huge vase behind,” Kevin commented, leaning against the bathroom door jamb, plate of leftovers in his hand. He chewed loudly, watching Kit attempt to make her hair look like something other than a scarecrow’s coif. “It’s gotta be worth few hundred dollars. Seems dumb to me.”

Kit shrugged, wishing Kevin would stop asking her questions about the lie she told about the flowers. She couldn’t bear to throw them away, and with Charlotte away for the remainder of the weekend, Kit came up with a ridiculous lie about the delivery boy coming to the wrong house. Kit told Kevin she insisted to the boy he had the wrong house, but he argued that he was right and left the flowers anyway. Kevin had seemed skeptical of her story from the start, and his incessant questions only ceased while he had his mouth full.

“I don’t know,” Kit told Kevin again, tugging a wide toothed comb through her hair and wishing Kevin wasn’t watching her get ready for her night out. The guilty pangs in her stomach were already emphatically prodding at her conscience; she didn’t need his watchful eye adding to the shameful feeling.

Kevin met Kit’s eyes through the mirror reflection, taking a big bite of potatoes. “Since when do you spend so much time trying to look good, anyway?” he wondered, small pieces of food spitting out of his mouth as he spoke.

Kit hesitated for an unnoticeable moment, watching Kevin’s face through the mirror. He didn’t look upset or suspicious, though he wasn’t always the easiest person to read. “I just… thought it would be fun,” Kit told him, hoping she sounded convincing. “You always say I should try harder, and… you’re right…” she added with another shrug.

“I know I am,” Kevin told her haughtily. “You look better when you comb your hair. That looks alright, too,” he added, tapping his lips but indicating to Kit’s before turning towards the kitchen. “Don’t see why you don’t do it all the time,” he called over his shoulder to her, dropping his plate on the counter beside the sink.

“Maybe I will,” Kit mused, though she couldn’t see herself spending this much time in the bathroom on a regular basis.

Kevin leaned against the wall again, looking at his phone. “Davey’s almost here,” he told her. “Think I might get him to cruise out to my parent’s house. Mom said she wasn’t feeling well today. Wanna see if she’s okay,” he told Kit, his voice resembling that of a scared little boy as he spoke about his mother, though he tried to appear nonchalant.

The guilty pangs in Kit’s stomach were almost excruciatingly painful at Kevin’s words. Here she was, getting dolled up for a boy who wasn’t her boyfriend, while her boyfriend’s sweet mother was suffering from some ailment. Kevin needed to come first, not Harry, and this news made that more apparent.

“Really?” Kit asked, turning to face Kevin, a concerned look on her face. “I can cancel… and come with you?” she added, sheepishly hoping Kevin refused her offer. She knew she would cancel in a heartbeat, for Cynthia, but also knew she desperately wanted to see Harry.

Kevin shrugged, shaking his head dismissively. “Nah,” he answered. “I’m sure she’s just got a cold or something. Plus, you talk too much… it tires her out,” Kevin added, unintentionally hurting Kit’s feelings. She adored Cynthia and wouldn’t want to do anything to contribute to her conditions. She always assumed Cynthia liked Kit’s chatty persona and her lengthy stories. Maybe Kit had been mistaken. Cynthia did seem tired an awful lot when Kit was around. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror, wishing she wasn’t such an annoying brat all of the time.

“Okay…” Kit answered slowly, tugging on the ends of her hair. “Well… give her a hug for me, and tell her I hope she feels better soon…” Kit told Kevin as his phone beeped again, signaling Davey’s arrival. Her words sounded so weak, but Kevin nodded in agreement.

“Will do,” he told her. “See ya later,” he added, forgoing a farewell kiss or hug, as usual, before heading out of Kit’s flat, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Bracing her hands on the bathroom counter, Kit blew her hair from her face, staring at her guilt-ridden reflection. She knew the easiest solution to her tremendous guilt would be to cancel on Harry. He may be hurt, but if he truly was her friend, he would understand. If she was a good girlfriend, she would chase after Kevin and insist she come with him, not taking no for an answer. If she was a good person, she would stop seeing Harry and focus her attention on Kevin and her relationship. But, seeing as she was a bad girlfriend and a bad person, she knew there was no way she would be canceling on Harry.

~*~*~*~

Harry’s stomach tumbled nervously as he pulled up outside of Kit’s apartment. He’d been expecting to hear from her after he’d sent her the massive bouquet of flowers – surely she knew they were from him – but she hadn’t texted him at all. When he didn’t hear from her regarding the flowers, he was convinced she was displeased and would cancel on their evening. When he didn’t hear from her to cancel, he assumed they were still on and made the trek across the city to pick her up.

He wished he could shake her. He wished he could stop thinking about her, stop wanting to be with her. He was pining over someone completely out of reach, and he didn’t know how much more of not having her he could take. But when she smiled at him, and looked at him as though he was her favourite person in the world, he knew he couldn’t have a life without Kit in it.

He exhaled loudly, shutting off his car before gazing at the apartment building. He couldn’t wait to see Kit, but each time her saw her, it became more difficult to just be her friend. Since Kit confessed to wanting to kiss Harry, he knew she was having a hard time just being his friend as well, and Harry couldn’t fathom why she didn’t just end it with Kevin and be with him. She didn’t realise how much she deserved, and it killed him. In Harry’s mind, Kit deserved the moon, and more.

He fumbled with the door latch before stepping out of his car and making his way across the street to Kit’s apartment. He was just about to walk up the steps to the front door when it opened, Kit appearing in the doorway. Harry stopped short, watching her. In his mind, Kit always looked beautiful, but he could tell she’d put an effort into getting ready for the night. Her hair was down, long and wavy, though somehow not a mess of flyaways. She had a light spattering of makeup on – Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen her with anything but lip balm on – and looked adorable but sexy in a pair of ripped jeans and tall boots, her winter coat hiding the rest of her outfit. She took his breath away.

“Hi, Kit-Kat,” Harry greeted her, his voice soft as he smiled. He knew it wasn’t a date – it couldn’t be. But it felt like one for him. He wondered if it did for Kit.

“Hi, Harry-Canary,” Kit greeted back, matching Harry’s smile as she tugged the door closed behind her. All of her guilt-ridden thoughts seemed to vanish from the moment she saw him and his smile – which should have made her feel more guilty, but all she could think about was how handsome Harry looked and how excited she was to spend the entire evening with him. It was like a date. It couldn’t be a date, but… it was almost a date.

As Kit descended the stairs, Harry stepped closer, enveloping his arms around her and tugging her against him. He’d told himself he would try to keep his hands off Kit, but seeing her made him forget any promises he’d made to himself about her. She smelled at good as she looked and he had to remind himself to inhale and then exhale.

“You look lovely,” Harry added, breaking their embrace after a moment and finding Kit’s hand. The action was involuntary, but even once he realised their fingers were intertwined, he made no motion to separate. Surprisingly, neither did Kit.

“Thank you,” Kit answered with a smile, the softness of Harry’s hand against hers sending shivers through her body. As was commonplace whenever she was with Harry, she quickly reminded herself about Kevin, and after a few beats had passed, grudgingly pulled her hand from Harry’s. “Thanks for coming to get me, also,” Kit added as the two of them looked down the street before stepping off the sidewalk. “I know it’s quite out of the way…” Kevin had her well-trained to apologise for being a nuisance, which she assumed she often was.

Harry scoffed, casting a sideways glance at Kit. “It’s not at all, I promise,” he assured her, touching her back lightly as they crossed the quiet street. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, even when he tried. He opened the passenger door for Kit and held it open for her as she slid in. She met his eyes and gave him a smile, his knees nearly buckling under him at her sweet beam. Why was she not his yet?

Kit fiddled with the cuff of her jacket, keeping her head down as Harry walked around the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. She wanted to ask him about the flowers, but what if she was mistaken? They could have been from her father, or her brother. The thought of either of those men anonymously sending Kit flowers was admittedly laughable, but it was always a possibility.

No. It was a stretch, and Kit knew it. Keeping her head down and avoiding Harry’s eyes, she shyly began speaking. “Harry?” she asked, her voice quiet. “Did you…”

“Did I what?” Harry asked, a small smile playing on his face as he assumed she was going to ask him about the flowers. He hoped she liked them, and selfishly hoped Kevin had completely faltered in the Valentine’s Day gift department.

“Did you… send me flowers?” Kit asked him, a short laugh following her words, as though the notion was entirely too preposterous to be taken seriously. She glanced up at Harry for a brief moment before looking down again, an embarrassed flush coating her cheeks.

Harry loved when Kit blushed. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any more adorable, the red hue of chagrin would rise up from her neck and she would look down, awkwardly letting her fingers fiddle with her hair or her jacket. He would never intentionally embarrass her, just to see her blush, but it was one of his favourite things about her. She was extraordinary.

“I did,” Harry confirmed, glancing sideways at Kit in an attempt to read her face. He noticed the slight tickle of a smile on her lips but she kept her head down.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Kit let out a quiet huff, looking up at him. “Harry…” she said, using his name to urge him into telling her why he felt the need to unnecessarily spend hundreds of dollars on her when he wasn’t getting anything out of it.

“Because I wanted to!” Harry interrupted with a laugh. He looked at Kit again, a smirk on his face. “It was Valentine’s Day, and…” He trailed off, a slight feeling of discomfort rising over him. He wanted to tell her that he knew that idiot boyfriend of hers wouldn’t have done a thing for her, and Kit was too special to be forgotten on Valentine’s Day – or any day, for that matter. He wanted to tell her that he should have been her Valentine, not Kevin, and Kevin was a loser in the relationship game Harry so desperately wanted to win. But insulting Kevin wasn’t the way to Kit’s heart, so instead, Harry just shrugged again.

“I wanted to,” he repeated, hoping Kit could be satisfied by his simple answer. “I wanted to do something nice… for you…” he added, his own cheeks darkening at the confession. He looked at Kit and she met his eyes, a smile on her face.

“They really are lovely,” Kit told him, her tummy tingling. She felt her face get hot again but kept her gaze on Harry. “I…” She laughed at herself, her gaze dropping to her hands as she heard the words in her mind she was about to speak. “I’ve never… got flowers before,” she confessed quietly, feeling silly at the admission. She chuckled once more before looking up at Harry, smiling shyly at him. “Thank you.”

Unable to stop himself, Harry reached over and took Kit’s hand in his, squeezing gently. “You’re welcome,” he told her, knowing there was no way it was the first or last time Kit would receive flowers from him. Roadside wildflowers or extravagant roses, he was going to make sure she got it all.

Notes